Reminiscence
AN AUSiRALIAN EPISODE ADRIAN JOHNSON, F.R.A.C.P.
sand sheep. The water was warm, stagnant and sometimes green. He was left tucker (food) for 2 weeks, a water bag, 2 mules and a horse. He baked damper (an unleavened bread of flour and baking soda): it tasted like the water. During his stay at Cordillo Downs he never had a roof over his head — no tent — and on many days it was 125° F in the shade, if any. He slept in a staked-out mosquito net on blankets on the ground, as a protection against the hordes of flies and ants. He suffered from barcoo rot (desert sores in which avitaminosis plays a part). His job consisted of riding along the miles of fence keeping them in repair against dingoes (wild dogs), rescuing sheep caught in the wire, and keeping himself alive. The only reading material he got his hands on were the old newspaper wrappings of the ketchup bottles and tins of jam that were part of the tucker he rode in to get at the main station, 35 miles away, once every 2 weeks. In contrast to his lack of desire to read at Harvard, he got so hungry for the printed word that he would read the yellow, crumpled bits of paper over and over, including ads, partial articles and sentences. The only man he met who had ever heard of Harvard was a horse and mule breaker, who may have been a political fugitive from Ireland and whose " w i f e " was an aborigine. He was an educated, cultured and poetic man who quoted Dante Gabriel Rosetti to Sulzberger and discoursed on philosophy.
From the Department of Dermatology, Royal Prince Albert Hospital, Sydney, Australia
It is not generally known that Marion Sulzberger spent a sizable portion of his youth in Australia, not as a leader of world dermatology, but as a boundary rider on the frontier of what even in these days can be a harsh world. It seemingly was a reaction against the life style of a rich man's son which prompted him to leave an unsettled freshman's life at Harvard and embark on such an experience, independent from his family and its support. I am able to write with some authority of the area as my brother-in-law is a senior executive of what is now the Elder Smith Company, which is in the top group of Australian national companies, although obviously I have "pumped" Sulzberger for details. Boundary Rider Marion got a job from Elder Smith Company to go to Cordillo Downs station (ranch) in Central Australia, as a boundary rider. It took 2 days and a night from the rail head to get there by stagecoach. He was taken to a waterhole with 3 fenced paddocks, each 30 miles in circumference and providing grazing for several thouAddress for reprints: Adrian Johnson, F.R.A.C.P., Dorchester House, 149 Macquarie Street, Sydney, Australia.
426
No. 5
AUSTRALIA
lohnson
427
Fig. 1. A camel train carrying vvooi to the rail head in the Central Australian desert at the turn of the century.
Other Jobs Eventually, the breaker asked him to be his helper. The pay was more than twice the pound per week of a boundary rider and the tucker was better at the main station of Cordillo Downs where he was billeted. After having been thrown and dragged by the bucking animals, and noting that his boss had to press back his double hernias every night, he got a new job. This was to help the cook of one of the mustering gangs that went from one part of the station to another. At the end of about 8 months, he joined a shearing team and helped pack the wool in bales which were carried down on camels, one bale on each side. The camel caravan was owned and driven by Afghans. The 25 or 30 camels went single file, with the nose plug of each camel attached by rope to some part of the saddle of the camel ahead (Fig. 1). He was one of the men who kept running up and down each side of
the camel file to see that the bales were in balance. It took them several days to reach the railroad head and deliver the wool. Sydney and World War I He still had a few pounds left when he arrived in Sydney. He got a job in the kitchen of a German ship about to sail for California. Knowing he would be fed and berthed on her, he figured he would spend all his money. A day before he was to sail. World War I broke out. The ship sailed within 24 hours; all the nonGerman nationals were fired. Then began a mean time for him; he was penniless and jobs were not available because of the uncertainty caused by the war. He froze, starved, sold even his razor to buy some food, was shaved a couple of times at barber's schools, slept in the Domain (the "Central Park" of Sydney) with newspapers as blankets, and kept looking for work. After a few
428
INTERNATIONAL JOURNAL OF DERMATOLOCY
weeks he got a job as a navvy (laborer) extending the railroad from Dunedoo to Coonabarabran. The work was tough pick and shovel work, but he was tough. The workers lived in tents along the railroad cutting. He ate at a boarding house run by the blacksmith and his wife. Toward the end of the first week, the blacksmith, a big, burly man with a large bald head, presented him with the bill for his meals. Marion told him he would settle as soon as he got his first pay. The smith bellowed "Pay me, now!" Marion said, "I can't." Again the smith yelled "Pay me now," rushed at Marion with flailing fists and butted him on the chin with his head. Marion struck back at him as hard as he could. It was a lucky punch, for the big man went down and lay at his feet. Many of the gang had watched this match and he became a hero. After that the men helped him every way they could, calling
June 1977
Vol. 16
him each morning from the hillside tents "Get up, Yanko!" Going Home Back in Sydney, with enough money to hang on, he got a job as a coal trimmer on a British ship Willochra. The ships were slowly daring to sail again. After a few days they put in at Wellington, New Zealand. The owners decided not to risk the Pacific crossing with the Willochra. Everyone was transferred to a smaller, much older ship, the Maitai. At the end of a stormy passage, they reached the California 3-mile coastal safety zone — just in time — for off on the horizon they saw the smoke of what they learned was one of the German raiders, perhaps the Scharnhorst or the Leipzig. This reads like a romance, but it is all true, and perhaps a lesson for the young men of today who expect and find things very easy.
Untitled photograph by Anthony N. Domonkos, M.D., New York, NY. Second place, photography category, in the 1975 Art Exhibif of fbe American Academy of Dermatology.
AN AUSiRALIAN EPISODE ADRIAN JOHNSON, F.R.A.C.P.
sand sheep. The water was warm, stagnant and sometimes green. He was left tucker (food) for 2 weeks, a water bag, 2 mules and a horse. He baked damper (an unleavened bread of flour and baking soda): it tasted like the water. During his stay at Cordillo Downs he never had a roof over his head — no tent — and on many days it was 125° F in the shade, if any. He slept in a staked-out mosquito net on blankets on the ground, as a protection against the hordes of flies and ants. He suffered from barcoo rot (desert sores in which avitaminosis plays a part). His job consisted of riding along the miles of fence keeping them in repair against dingoes (wild dogs), rescuing sheep caught in the wire, and keeping himself alive. The only reading material he got his hands on were the old newspaper wrappings of the ketchup bottles and tins of jam that were part of the tucker he rode in to get at the main station, 35 miles away, once every 2 weeks. In contrast to his lack of desire to read at Harvard, he got so hungry for the printed word that he would read the yellow, crumpled bits of paper over and over, including ads, partial articles and sentences. The only man he met who had ever heard of Harvard was a horse and mule breaker, who may have been a political fugitive from Ireland and whose " w i f e " was an aborigine. He was an educated, cultured and poetic man who quoted Dante Gabriel Rosetti to Sulzberger and discoursed on philosophy.
From the Department of Dermatology, Royal Prince Albert Hospital, Sydney, Australia
It is not generally known that Marion Sulzberger spent a sizable portion of his youth in Australia, not as a leader of world dermatology, but as a boundary rider on the frontier of what even in these days can be a harsh world. It seemingly was a reaction against the life style of a rich man's son which prompted him to leave an unsettled freshman's life at Harvard and embark on such an experience, independent from his family and its support. I am able to write with some authority of the area as my brother-in-law is a senior executive of what is now the Elder Smith Company, which is in the top group of Australian national companies, although obviously I have "pumped" Sulzberger for details. Boundary Rider Marion got a job from Elder Smith Company to go to Cordillo Downs station (ranch) in Central Australia, as a boundary rider. It took 2 days and a night from the rail head to get there by stagecoach. He was taken to a waterhole with 3 fenced paddocks, each 30 miles in circumference and providing grazing for several thouAddress for reprints: Adrian Johnson, F.R.A.C.P., Dorchester House, 149 Macquarie Street, Sydney, Australia.
426
No. 5
AUSTRALIA
lohnson
427
Fig. 1. A camel train carrying vvooi to the rail head in the Central Australian desert at the turn of the century.
Other Jobs Eventually, the breaker asked him to be his helper. The pay was more than twice the pound per week of a boundary rider and the tucker was better at the main station of Cordillo Downs where he was billeted. After having been thrown and dragged by the bucking animals, and noting that his boss had to press back his double hernias every night, he got a new job. This was to help the cook of one of the mustering gangs that went from one part of the station to another. At the end of about 8 months, he joined a shearing team and helped pack the wool in bales which were carried down on camels, one bale on each side. The camel caravan was owned and driven by Afghans. The 25 or 30 camels went single file, with the nose plug of each camel attached by rope to some part of the saddle of the camel ahead (Fig. 1). He was one of the men who kept running up and down each side of
the camel file to see that the bales were in balance. It took them several days to reach the railroad head and deliver the wool. Sydney and World War I He still had a few pounds left when he arrived in Sydney. He got a job in the kitchen of a German ship about to sail for California. Knowing he would be fed and berthed on her, he figured he would spend all his money. A day before he was to sail. World War I broke out. The ship sailed within 24 hours; all the nonGerman nationals were fired. Then began a mean time for him; he was penniless and jobs were not available because of the uncertainty caused by the war. He froze, starved, sold even his razor to buy some food, was shaved a couple of times at barber's schools, slept in the Domain (the "Central Park" of Sydney) with newspapers as blankets, and kept looking for work. After a few
428
INTERNATIONAL JOURNAL OF DERMATOLOCY
weeks he got a job as a navvy (laborer) extending the railroad from Dunedoo to Coonabarabran. The work was tough pick and shovel work, but he was tough. The workers lived in tents along the railroad cutting. He ate at a boarding house run by the blacksmith and his wife. Toward the end of the first week, the blacksmith, a big, burly man with a large bald head, presented him with the bill for his meals. Marion told him he would settle as soon as he got his first pay. The smith bellowed "Pay me, now!" Marion said, "I can't." Again the smith yelled "Pay me now," rushed at Marion with flailing fists and butted him on the chin with his head. Marion struck back at him as hard as he could. It was a lucky punch, for the big man went down and lay at his feet. Many of the gang had watched this match and he became a hero. After that the men helped him every way they could, calling
June 1977
Vol. 16
him each morning from the hillside tents "Get up, Yanko!" Going Home Back in Sydney, with enough money to hang on, he got a job as a coal trimmer on a British ship Willochra. The ships were slowly daring to sail again. After a few days they put in at Wellington, New Zealand. The owners decided not to risk the Pacific crossing with the Willochra. Everyone was transferred to a smaller, much older ship, the Maitai. At the end of a stormy passage, they reached the California 3-mile coastal safety zone — just in time — for off on the horizon they saw the smoke of what they learned was one of the German raiders, perhaps the Scharnhorst or the Leipzig. This reads like a romance, but it is all true, and perhaps a lesson for the young men of today who expect and find things very easy.
Untitled photograph by Anthony N. Domonkos, M.D., New York, NY. Second place, photography category, in the 1975 Art Exhibif of fbe American Academy of Dermatology.
