Joh Petersen as I knew him

I had two or three close and exciting years with Johannes Bjelke Petersen when he first became Premier, an “accidental Premier” following the sudden death of decent competent Jack Pizzey. Joh as the almost unknown but well-liked Deputy was catapulted into the big job.

It’s 40 years or so ago – for me it’s as memorable as yesterday.

Liberal Leader Gordon Chalk, as Acting Premier wanted the lot. favoured The Courier Mail. Joh was, in truth, a bit weird politically in the Queensland of the day – he didn’t drink, didn’t bet, didn’t go to the races, went to church without fail, and taught Sunday School.

He – and the Country Party – were at sea. I was hired as Joh’s Media Adviser and what a ride it turned out to be.

I want to remember Joh as the softly-spoken caring farmer and family man, the man of quiet aspiration, I first came to know. A man who dearly loved Queensland and its bushies.

And a man who, astonishingly, on the many trips around Queensland we did together held packed meeting almost spellbound when he quietly recounted stories of his childhood (he was born in Dannevirke, NZ), his family’s coming to the South Burnett, his deep Lutheran beliefs, the care his sisters gave him, his invention of the Burnett’s first mechanical peanut harvester and how he slept under it in his swag when harvest contracting, and emotionally his recent trip to Denmark’s historically magic Copenhagen - anything and everything but hard political messages.

What went wrong …

Now, I don’t want to wallow on all those things that went haywire’ like:
>> His abysmal lack of knowledge of constitutional practice, his ignorance of the required separation of Executive Government, Parliament, Justice system, Police and Public Service.
>> His growing contempt for the media – “feeding the chooks” – as he learned bit by bit to manage the news agenda.
>> His reliance on the wrong men.
>> His increasing bursts of bad temper – his distancing from Sir Robert Sparkes, the most intelligent in the Country Party hierarchy
>> The stuff-up of the Joh for Canberra push.

These are the things I want to remember:
>> My first luncheon with him in the Premier’s suite dining room – handsome room, superb table setting with immaculate silver ware and magnificent tureens. Just Joh and Me! The Chef paraded in with a splendid bowl full of steamed potatoes and pumpkin, beautifully presented. Joh’s favourite! Followed by a delicious mango fruit salad. And Waterford crystal glasses of Perrier Water. Joh was a remarkable host!
>> The week or so I spent at “Bethany”, getting to know Florence, his daughters and son, young John. Delving into the carefully kept family photo albums – where I got a picture of the “unknown” Johannes Bjelke-Petersen. These impressions formed the basis of the “Real Jo Petersen” advertising campaign I ran to blunt the malicious, almost racist, negativity launched against him. The Courier never referred to him as other than Johannes Bjelke Petersen, emphasising the ‘foreignness’.
>> There were the so far unknown photos of Joh working on his harvesters, driving the massive war surplus bulldozers he linked with chains to clear brigalow, and piloting the retired bombers he equipped and flew for brigalow aerial spraying. And surrounded by smiling Sunday School kids. The complete Jo Petersen.
>> Flo was the sharp-minded warm and comfy “Earth Mother” and always Joh’s closest advisor and encourager. The kids were the happiest, freest, most adventurous of bush kids. Their father stressed to them the importance of “The School of Life” and the hard knocks of life. Good lessons.
>> I recall Joh taking me for a flight around the district in his little Piper Cub – with the airstrip near the house, taking off downhill and landing uphill which seemed a very good idea to me. He loved flying, a meticulous pilot.
>> I remember big likeable Bert, Joh’s chauffeur, and how amazed he was one late Friday when Joh said, “Bert, I need the car this weekend. You can hitch a ride home to Brisbane.”

Surrounded by BIG men

>> Joh, slender, a little stooped, and not so tall, was surrounded by really big men – among them Russ Hinze, Ernie Evans, Vic Sullivan, Bill Lonergan, Ron Camm, Bill Gunn and Wally Rae. Joh wasn’t the least intimidated and ruled increasingly with iron.
>> I remember being on tour with Russ and his then wife, wise and funny little Helen. Russ seemed to me to be getting huger by the way – I was sitting next to him many times - and I asked Helen whether she ever worried about his weight. Yes, she said laughing, and I take out another hundred thousand on his life insurance.”
>> Despite the attacks on his environmental credentials, Joh was a conservationist farmer – with purpose. I remember the handsome stand of hardwoods near the house. He was very proud of them. It was both environment and commercial pride.

This could go on forever. I liked Joh immensely then. We got along. I was distraught to see him change.

Next column I’ll tell you about how together we covered Queensland in “Black Hand Traffic Radar Warning signs” and why – and how the ALP tried to trap John in Bedourie, way out there in the far west, with only one telephone line in and out.

And, helped by Rae Wear’s splendid biography – The Lord’s Premier” (University of Queensland Press) - all the things that went wrong. The How and the Why.