Working for a small town newspaper

Waimarino Bulletin, Volume 6, Issue 260, 25 October 1988, Page 12

Working for a small town newspaper

This history article was written by Stewart Kinross and first appeared in the Timaru Herald in Juiy 1985. It was brought to our attention by another ex-Ohakune resident and newspaper worker, Alan Knowles, who is a former editor of the Ruapehu Guardian as well as one-time owner of the Lovin' Spoonful restaurant, once housed in the Bulletin's present offices.

At one time every small township had its paper, its Sentinel or Guardian, not often a daily, but usually better than a weekly, appearing, say, on Tuesdays and Thursdays with a monster edition on Saturdays. These small papcrs, gave a township a scnse of having really creatcd a civilisation in the wilderness, somcthing that wasn't achieved by the hotel, the railway station, the school or the courthouse. If a place had its Bulletin or Chronicle it was a community; if it didn't it was mcrcly a collcction of houses and shops on the way to somcwhcre elsc. Sixty-five ycars ago I played a vital part in the production of one of these little papers, the Ohakune Times, wilh a circulation of about 450 all told. Staff of One The Ohakune Times had a paid staff of one, a man of many parts named Mulvihill; a remarkable veteran of all the journalistic crafts. Mulvihill was an Australian, who sccmed to have workcd on every major paper in Australia. He was known in Ohakune as Mulga Bill, or Mulga, for short. His talcs of Australian journalism held my attention on many an aftcrnoon. The Times was owned by a family callcd Nation, who resided in Raetihi and there publishcd another small paper. The plant in Raetihi must have posscssed a linotypc machinc, and thrcc times a wcck Mulga would mcet the train from Raetihi and collcct a couple of

formes, which had been used in printing the Raetihi paper the day before. But the Ohakune pages were Mulga's own. He collected news and advertising, and set everything by hand, standing before a sloping bench with open cases of individual type, lower and upper case, italic and numerals. Mulga would carry on an animated conversation, as his right hand flew from the type cases to a metal box he called a stick, in his lcft hand. And so he set the type for the local news and advertising, the notices, the lelters to the editor, the reports of meetings, dances, f o o t b a 1 1 matches, wcddings and funerals. And whcn all was set in type, and the type fixed in formers, and the formes locked in the press, Mulga took his post at the front door and awaited his victim. For the press rcquircd two operators, one, Mulga, to feed in the pages of newsprint, and a sccond for the much more strenuous job of turning the large driving wheel. Mulga's prey I was in my first teaching job then, and since by not very late aftemoon I was usually frce, I was Mulga's destincd prey. For a couple of years, then, unpaid, I was the motive power behind most issues of the Ohakune Times. I grcw to love the little paper, its glorious gaffcs and misprints, and I grcw to admire Mulga's skill at his many crafts and his

gentle humour as a rcporter. When our fullback, Bill Stevens, got the sack at the mill and decided to try' his luck harvesting, there it was in the Times: "We understand Bill Stevens has severed his connection with Carter and Co. Bill left yesterday for an extended tour of the agricultural districts of the South Island." That was Mulga's gentle style. Draper feud He had his hates, though, and feuded for over a year with staid John Bishop, one o f our drapers, and the leader of the Prohibition Party in Ohakune. Prohibition was a burning issue in those days and had actually been carried in the electoral poll of the year before, though the result was overturned when the votes of troops still overseas were included. Prohibition was anathema to Mulga who, as I turned the handle of the press, was fond of declaiming large chunks of the Rubaiyat: Come fill the cup,

what boots it to repeat How time is slipping underneath our feet Or, and much more aptly, And much as wine has play'd the infidel, And robb'd me of my robe of honour - well, I often wonder what the vintners buy One half so precious as the goods they sell. This was certainly

apt, for every so often Mulga would head off to Taihape to the nearest hotels and would go on a bender; a habit which probably explained his descent from Australian city papers to the Ohakune Times. In his absence a single sheet of Raetihi news would appear under the Ohakune Times banner. That Wowser' John Bishop, the draper, invariably referred to by Mulga inconversation as That Wowser, would submit long letters on the evils of strong drink and the virtues of a healthy diet and abstemious living

among other things he had a passionate belief in the health-giving properties of the onion - and Mulga would cut these letters down by half, editing out the most telling points. Bishop f i n a 1 1 y protested to the proprietor, Mr Nation, and Mulga, to his disgust, was ordered to print all Bishop's letters in full. Soon another letter arrived condemning the evils of atcohol and the joys to be found in upright living, and Mulga saw his chance. The letter concluded: "In our house we have no need for doctors. All who wish to lead similar healthy lives should avoid alcohol in all its

forms, and adopt one of our own guiding rules, onions at least once every day." Mulga printed the letter in full as ordered, but managed a misprint of onions, with a "u". Ohakune in those days was a pretty primitive and crude community. It roared its appreciation. It may be laughing yet. But I doubt it. We've all become very proper since then, and vulgar laughter has become the first of the deadly sins of the modern world. When was the last time you heard a real belly laugh? Those little papcrs gave us plcnty of them.

Stewarl

' Kinross