Tuesday, January 19, 2016

The Boy Who Made Tracks

There are two major elements in the blood of George Williams: trains and the town of Junee where he was born. Inspired by his father’s infectious love of trains, George joined the NSW Government Railways at the age of fourteen, only to find himself scrubbing the toilet compartments. And from there he worked for the next forty-nine years, having dust and dirt blown in his face, feeling the shudder of the carriage, the thump, thump of the 38 class engine, rattling along between stations, the wind whipping up a musical tune, chugging from one destination to another while always looking forward to the most important destination of all, his home in Junee. For George, Junee is real country Australia, a place which was all dirt roads and sulkies, and where he grew up. He was an adventurous tyke always looking for trouble, climbing (and falling from) telegraph poles, stringing rope between trees to sweep off the hat of the local squatter as he trotted by on his thoroughbred, and searching for ghosts in the said-to-be-haunted Monte Christo House. And one day while he was stepping on to a train he bumped into a woman stepping off. His beloved trains had brought him face to face with someone who was to be the joy of his life.

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