Uncle John

\Jack Williamson was appointed O/C late 1966 and he came up from Conical Hills Forest where he was in charge of post production - for the uninitiated, that's felling trees to be cut into fence posts, or larger - telephone/power poles.
Old Jack had done his time, starting at Hanmer Forest, working in the bush and had seen the evolution from horses, tractors, bulldozers & skidders to extract the logs.

I was asked to 'look after' Jack as this was his last assignment before he was to retire and from our first meeting we knew we were going to have a good relationship.
Jack was a wiry, balding man with a large nose and a warm smile. His bones were stiffening because of the work he had done and the cold conditions he had worked in. The reason I was asked to look after him was that he had not been trained in a managerial role so I was asked to help him with the nuts and bolts that was involved there. Things like yearly estimates - budgets.

Quite quickly we three in the office became a team - Albert, Jack and myself. We had some adventures that may now never be known - suffice to say 'we were good mates'.

Jack always kept a store of Oddfellows, large peppermints on hand and his main delicacy was a thick slice of fruit cake (baked by his good wife) that he ate daily. He didn't eat much else and I suspect his health was not that good, but he never really shared that with us. He took his responsibilities seriously but generally left me to do the day to day running of the forest.

The forest workers soon came to know him and he was well liked. We all called him 'Uncle John' and never hid the fact.
I could always tell if there was a problem, or if he was upset because he would hum and perhaps rub his forehead. I would try to read him, figure out the problem as he saw it and address it as best I could.

One day at the top of Hoods Creek we were siting a water tank as a quick-fill for the Wajax tankers. Skippy drove the Waitaki Transport truck loaded with the tank, but the site we had chosen was too difficult for him to get to without the danger of the concrete tank slipping off. We had a number of men there and they all had their suggestions of what should be done. Mick was there too with the D6.
Old Jack began to hum and rub his head, not sure of what should be done.
I told the men to have an early smoko, but told Mick to stay. Instead of the original position, I suggested we level a closer site with the D6. Make it like a loading bank so the truck could back into it, put a strop around the tank and pull it into position using posts as rollers. Jack was happy there was a solution and left us to it. Well it worked fine and the tank was soon in operation.

From time to time we held a Forestry Ball in the Herbert Hall and these were attended by the locals. We used to enjoy it when Jack, encouraged by a couple of whiskeys, would sing for us. This embarrassed his wife, but actually he was very good. He used to sing at our end of year drinking sessions as well.
'Old faithful.' was one of his favorites followed usually by 'Take my books off when I die.'

Old Jack was very sheepish when the day after we had been burning off on the Fraser's Block, he showed the D.fir plantings below the Headquarters was burnt out!
He and Albert had decided that it was such a good day for burning that they would burn off the cut gorse on the area that later became a picnic area. It was a good day for burning all right! The fire quickly became out of control and of course we had all the fire suppression gear with us at the proper fire! Actually once the cut gorse and the D.fir area were burnt, there was nowhere else for it to go so it simply burnt itself out. It took the pair a long time to live that down.
Jack enjoyed the Headquarters site and teamed with Albert they carried out a lot of the development and planting over perhaps 10 acres.

The day of Jack's retirement function showed the esteem he was held in because the 'Big Noises'
from District and Conservancy offices as well as O/Cs from other forests attended. They gave me a budget to buy drinks, but I had coerced the forest workers to bring food and we had hired a tent.
Oh well, the visitors wanted a tour of the forest didn't they? This left the forest workers with two hours to fill in - and there was all that food and drink! Spencer King's mother had make a huge bacon & egg pie 3" thick! It was gone by the time we came back. The keg was three parts empty and during the speeches a beer-fueled, Herbie complained to the visitors that this forest did not receive the resources it should. Three times I tried to shut him up and pull him away but each time he gave me a gentle shove, saying he had not finished yet.
They took it in good humor though and at least we could offer them a cup of tea!

I'll not forget Jack, he was one of God's gentlemen.