This is a collection of raw material dating back to the 1950s by journalist John Stapleton. It incorporates photographs, old diary notes, published stories of a more personal nature, unpublished manuscripts and the daily blogs which began in 2004 and have formed the source material for a number of books. Photographs by the author. For a full chronological order refer to or merge with the collection of his journalism found here: https://thejournalismofjohnstapleton.blogspot.com.au/
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Sunday, 3 September 2006
Father's Day
It was Father's Day yesterday in Australia. Funny the twists and turns life takes; and that because of the station I had suddenly become a public spokesman for fatherhood. Children weren't exactly on the cards in the early days. I was taunted in the playground, a hundred kids gathered around; hit me with your handbag, hit me with your handbag. These were some of the most awful, most shameful, most embarrassing days of my life. I was smashed to the ground. The kids kept chanting, hit me with your handbag, hit me with your handbag. They were capable of any cruelty. I squirmed on the ground. The leader of the pack was a handsome boy, Terry comes to mind but I don't think that was his name. The teachers were miles off and in no rush to interfere, those were the days before bullying became the latest fashionable no no to have propaganda and government resources thrown at it.
Later I was to discover that Terry was getting blow jobs after school from the same bloke I was. That was John Hay, who in a way was my first sugar daddy. Virtually the minute I could drive he gave me a smart little GST Torana, a sports version of the Torana which was very cool in its day. I whizzed around town like the it boy of the season. He was fat and rather plain looking, and that was why he was prepared to pay for it. Funny to think now that he died at the age of 26, and we had considered him enormously old; certainly old enough to demand cash for favours. How obsessive he was, how cruel I was. Perhaps this is the wrong post to dwell on these things; the beautiful house overlooking the bay, I would return only when it suited me; everything was done only when it suited me. He descended into a quagmire of pills and alcohols and suicided - all of 26. He had been a very talented businessman. I had worked in one of his reading colleges for a brief spell, a go at straight jobs. How sad it all was.
From all of this, I wandered out of the storm, well out of a detox anyway, and into the arms of Suzy; who was pregnant before we barely knew each other. I remember, I will always remember, standing on the balcony of that beautiful apartment in Victoria Street, overlooking Woolloomoolloo Bay with the city as a backdrop, and saying: "I've always wanted to have children". It was the following week, maybe ten days later, anyway it wasn't very long, when she declared she was pregnant. That baby miscarred, but by that time we were living together, the couple, and our paths were set. She miscarried, distressed, that anguished look on her face; not the same face you see today; and got pregnant again promptly, probably the next time we bonked. By that time I had moved from that wonderful apartment in Victoria Street; down to her more down to earth flat at Bondi Beach, and my life had taken a different course. In sickness and in health; through all the different paths.
In the course of work yesterday, a general reporting shift, I met the First Lady of East Timor, Kirsty Sword, who was completely charming, decent, intelligent and impressive and is much loved by the media who deal with her; and Jana Wendt, the first lady of Australian television, who was holding a farewell party at the Three Weeds Hotel in Rozelle. With thoughts turning to retirement, it's funny to think of long days when nobody could care less who you were or where you are from. I look forward to it, but will miss the casual drama and the easy access.
NEWS:
Australia, UN Hunt East Timor Rebel Leader After Jail Break
By Ed Johnson
Aug. 31 (Bloomberg) -- Australian-led peacekeepers and United Nations police are hunting for 57 escaped prisoners in East Timor, including rebel leader Major Alfredo Reinado, after a breakout that may further destabilize the Pacific Ocean state.
Forces were searching the nation's capital, Dili, and surrounding areas today after the escape from Becora Prison late yesterday, the UN's Acting Police Commissioner Antero Lopes said in a statement.
Reinado, an Australian-trained former military police commander, led a group of rebel soldiers who refused to lay down their arms after former Prime Minister Mari Alkatiri dismissed around a third of the country's armed forces for deserting.
The sackings in March provoked clashes between security forces and escalated into fighting between armed gangs. The violence resulted in the deployment of 2,500 peacekeepers from Australia, New Zealand, Portugal and Malaysia in May.
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