Legend Rob Powell.

Photo: Rob and Wendy Powell. Rob Powell was born at Semaphore on 2 January,1943 to parents Horrie and Del Powell. Horrie who was a required worker during WWII played footy at full back for West Adelaide and South Australia and was a life member of the SANFL.
Rob attended Grange Primary School, Findon High School and the Printing Trades School. His first print office was Bowden Printing. After Bowden’s he moved to Mitchell Press in the City and then to Bird Printers at Port Adelaide.
In 1966, Rob, along with his three brothers went to Darwin and he spent the next four years at the N.T. Government Printing Office. Arriving back in Adelaide he had a short time at Robinson’s before being interviewed by George Sparnon for a Jobbing position at the Guv.
At Netley, Rob worked in Jobbing, Monotype Keyboard and the Reading Room and like many others before him was told to “slow down” by the Comp Room Mafia.
He managed to get involved with the Office Association and the Social Club. He organised a very weird train trip to the Barossa Valley, but had much more success with the Kids Christmas parties, Netley Cabarets and Office Picnics.
Rob and an unknown person took up bootlegging with Hamilton Winery and they passed off White Diamond Rum as Bacardi at the Guv Cabarets.
In fitter days he played amateur footy for Henley Footy Club where he was known as “Gus” and umpired in Adelaide and Darwin.
Rob and Wendy have two children, Jayne in Cairns and Ben in Canberra. After ten years at the Guv he and Wendy had a brief stint in Darwin and then 20 enjoyable years in Canberra with Rob working in Government Publications.
Rob and Wendy have been back in Adelaide for quite some time and like most rich people have had some enjoyable world cruises.
In Canberra, Wendy (who was an important public servant in Canberra) had a moment of horror when she was pushed into shaking the hand of the then Prime Minister little Johnnie Howard. Sadly, a True Story.
Rob Powell you are indeed an Old Guv Legend.

“Lest We Forget” – George Bonney.

bonney_george_edward_lowresStudio portrait of 44 Private (Pte) George Edward Bonney, 32nd Battalion, of Unley, South Australia.
George Bonney was born on 23 August, 1876 at Unley.
He was the son of William Bonney and Eliza Powell.
George married Florence Connor on 24 January, 1900 in Adelaide.
Originally a Printing Machinist with the Government Printing Office in Adelaide, South Australia, Private Bonney at age 39 years enlisted in May 1915 and embarked for Europe on 18th November, 1915, with A company, 32nd Battalion.
Soon after arriving in France for service on the Western Front, Private Bonney became one of the first Australians killed during the horrific Battle of Fromelles in World War I when he was shot at Fleurbaix, soon after going over a parapet on 19th July, 1916.
He was buried at Fromelles in France.
Lest We Forget

Bruce Watts Lockier.

Photograph: Bruce and Joan Lockier.
Bruce was born on 24 June 1928 to parents John and Lilian Lockier at a Maternity House in Maylands.
His twin sister Nancy was born half an hour before him. Thank goodness she was a twin sister and not a brother.
Bruce began his education at Magill Primary School and later attended Norwood Tech where he gained his Technical Certificate after two years which included subjects in woodwork and sheet metal work.
At 15 years of age Bruce arrived at The Old Guv in May 1943 and started out as a “shit” boy in the Comp Room, sweeping the pavement, filling the wash basins in the ladies rest rooms, filling enamelled jugs with clean water for the overseer and foreman.
On completion of his apprenticeship Bruce worked as a compositor, linotype operator, a Hansard proof reader and at times acted as a clicker.
Bruce played a major role in the decoration of the Old Guv building during the Queen’s Royal Visit in 1956. The Government Printer (Doctor Cack) and Bruce received all the appreciation for doing a great job in decorating the building.
Some say Lew Morrison actually should have been the person to get all the credit as it seems Lew did all the work while Bruce gave orders. 
Bruce at work was a practical joker and no one was safe, whether you were a machinist, binder or comp.
I can remember a day on the Jobbing Room floor when Bruce came up to me and asked me what day it was.
I said it was Friday; why? He told me that Des Woods another comp on the Jobbing Room Floor and a devout Catholic had just eaten a meat pie. In those days it was absolute sacrilege to eat meat on a Friday.
When Chippsie Woods came back from lunch; Bruce asked him what day it was. The reply was it is Friday. Bruce came back with what did you have for lunch? A look of horror came over Des’s face.
Bruce then lit a ball of cotton waste soaked in kerosene, put out the flames, with smoke pouring out of the cotton waste and threw it in Des’s composing frame.
Des asked the obvious question of why Bruce would do such a thing. “To drive out the spooks because you ate a meat pie on a Friday”, Bruce replied.
Lew Morrison for his 90th birthday received a special card signed by all his old work mates. Unfortunately, most of the names on the card were deceased.
As President of the Office Association Bruce got rid of smoking in the toilets. Smoking in the toilets was one of the greatest scams that was around. Someone would head off to the toilet with a piece of strawboard under an arm to dissipate the smoke from the cigarette. Office picnics and Children’s Christmas parties improved.

Article from the Adelaide Advertiser

With great shock to all Bruce tendered his resignation in the mid 1960s and left for ‘better things’. He joined the Apple and Pear Board as a Section Organiser. Some say he couldn’t tell an apple from a pear. However Bruce became highly successful in improving the organisation.
I had left the Old Guv and was working for Collies Inks and was on my way back from Melbourne on a flight when the hostess came up to me and told me that a another passenger had requested that I change seats and join him for a drink. It was Bruce Lockier .
 Sadly, Bruce’s wife Dulcie passed away from a long illness. Loneliness set in, but Bruce’s life changed when Joan lovingly entered his life and they married.
Bruce you are indeed an Old Guv Legend and rate up there with the best.
Don Woolman

Ron Lahiff.

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Ron Lahiff was a great story teller who could match Yank Hall.
He was the only bloke who could say F**k in front off Iris Morgan without her getting offended.
He loved his St Agnes brandy and after Ron passed away, the sales and shares plummeted at the distillery.
One night after a heavy drinking session he made his way to his Kent Town home via the park lands. Staggering along in the dark he suddenly saw the devil – two red eyes staring at him and blocking his path.
Suddenly, he become aware of ten sets of these red devil eyes surrounding him. Ron fell to his knees and pleaded that if he was let go he would give up on the demon drink. The Devil replied with one word ‘moo’. Ron had stumbled into a herd of cows.
Another time Ron and a mate took their kids to the circus and left them there and entered the nearest pub. On arriving home his wife asked where the kids were. Yep! They were still at the circus.
Ron loved motor bikes and kept his at a mate’s place because his old man banned him from having one. One morning Ron was belting down Greenhill Road and decided to chuck a righty at the Bolton Service Station corner. Halfway through the turn he realised he was going to be cleaned up by an oncoming car.
Leaning the bike right over he scraped his ear on the bitumen, lost control and went through the service station cleaning up five pints of oil.
The service station charged him for the oil and cleanup, but never asked him if he was injured.
Ron and his next door neighbour were great drinking mates. One night after another heavy session when Ron took his leave he turned left instead of right.
In the morning there was no sign of Ron and at 9.30 a.m. in he wandered with his trousers covered up to his knees with mud. Somehow Ron had managed to spend the night in a nearby market garden.
One payday he met Doug Gurney at the Gresham Hotel, not knowing that Doug had got the barman to serve him double brandies.
At 1.00 p.m. Ron thought about going back to work but Gurney got him to stay on till 1.30 p.m. Leaving the pub they crossed the lights and headed towards the Old Guv.
However, Doug Gurney turned off and headed off to the Railway Station. Sucked in again, Gurney was on annual leave and had dropped in to pick up his pay.
When Myles Conlon moved house to Campbelltown he would pick up a grateful Ron in the morning to take him into work.
One morning Myles slowed down at Ron’s Bus-stop took one  look at Ron gave him the fingers and sped off. A very disillusioned Ron sat down and wondered what he had done to upset Myles in such a manner.
While Ron was thinking about being late for work or taking a sickie  I just happened to pull up and offer him a ride into work.
It didn’t take him too long to work out what we had been up to.
With all the Hardships Ron endured in Life – he never once complained.
The Toff

Fred Hardwicke.

spike-jones-and-his-city-slickers-cocktails-for-two-rca-scaled5001

In January, 1966, I left the Comp Room’s shitboy job to start my apprenticeship in the Jobbing Room. My clicker was Fred Hardwicke.
The crew consisted of Shorty Moncrieff, Jack Wells, Ray Stagg, Joe Scholberg, David Copley, Rod Stone, Alex Riley and Bruce Kutcher.
Fred’s bark was far worse than his bite.
If you started talking about his beloved North Adelaide Football Club (he played for them) or the country town of Port Broughton everything would work out just fine.
Shorty Moncrieff would often set my copy on fire. I was stubborn. “I’m not putting it out”, I’d say. Shorty would just shrug and reply, “Neither am I.”
I’d go over to Fred and say, “I’ve lost my copy.” Fred would grunt and ask, “Did that idiot set it on fire again?”
But he would always get out the spare copy for me.
Fred noticed that I was always buying LP records. “You like music?” he would grunt. “My brother had a record shop on Hyde Park Road years ago.”
One day out of the blue he came over to my frame with a package, “Thought you might like these!” Inside were four brand new 78 records (Gene Krupa, Spike Jones, Kid Orry and Duke Ellington).
Another time he grunted, “I notice that you like bright coloured shirts.”
A few days later later he gave me a couple of those Hawaiian shirts that people were wearing in the late 1950s.
“You don’t wear those shirts I gave you a few months back,” he queried.
I didn’t have the heart to tell him that I had binned them.
Bugger me dead if they didn’t come back into fashion six months later.
A lot of people didn’t like Fred’s grumpy moods but he was good to me and I say anyone that can put John Buckby through a window can’t be all bad!
The late Warren Pietsch.

Fred Hardwick.

IMG_20160524_0001Reprinted from an article that appeared in the 1977 edition of Topical Points.
The rather good looking fellow above is Fred Hardwick (a long time ago).
Fred who at present is a clicker (leading hand) in the Jobbing Room will retire on 19th April, 1977, after 49 years, 10 months with the Government Printing Office.
Fred started in 1927 as a post boy and began his apprenticeship in 1928.
He was appointed as a clicker in 1950.
Photo: Fred is remembered at Prospect Oval (as are many other Roosters players) as part of the picket fence surrounding the oval.
Thanks to Alex Riley for the pic (2020).
Between 1929 and 1935 Fred played football for North Adelaide in the South Australian Football League.
After his retirement Fred hopes to continue playing golf, bowls and keep up his interest in the horses.

Rod Parham

Ralph Hannant.

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Ralph Hannant (deceased) was a Hot Metal Compositor and Monotype Operator.
It was my privilege to have known Ralph from the mid 1970s onwards. In my role as the Old Guv’s Association President I dealt with him quite often as he was our Auditor and Returning Officer.
Without a doubt he was the best I ever had, in fact, he was the only one I ever needed.
Scrupulously honest, he was exacting, meticulous and best of all reliable.
Ralph was a great collector of artifacts and other people’s rubbish. He had two sheds of mysterious GPO treasures at home in his backyard.
From saving Cricket Club member the late Warren Pietsch in the streets of Melbourne’s Carlton from a group of murderous Chinese assassins to inventing the original prototype of the the first ever Video Cassette Recorder.
To explain, on Sunday nights when Channel 9 and Channel 7 were showing their movies of the week he would put two TVs in the lounge room (on top of each other) and he and his wife would proceed to watch two separate movies. True story and verified by Ralph himself.
My one and only criticism of Ralph was when I saw him at the Legend Luncheons, he always asked me if I knew workers who had left the Old Guv before 1960, 13 years before I had started.
He would give me very accurate descriptions of these people. Like, “I think he had brown hair or was it black?” “He always wore navy blue or brown socks and ate fritz and sauce sandwiches at Lunchtime”. “Did you know him Rod?”
He always stumped me, the Wonderful old Bastard mainly because he was talking about comrades from the 1950s.
Ralph Hannant was a real character and Great Old Guv Legend. He will always be remembered and missed…

Allan Dell.

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I have known Allan Dell since July, 1973 when on my first day at work Bob Downs ‘anKissMyArse’ warned me that a gentleman Allan (2L’s) Dell battered metal type with gay abandon.
“He wears hobnailed boots and then struts his stuff over the type formes,” Bob whispered’. I was horrified.
Now I believed that Bob was an honest man and would tell me the truth
My Confession…
From that time on I dreaded the call, “Parham go down and fix Porky’s forme  again. “Help him out will you, he’s shagged up yet another job”. “And by the way, don’t forget to take the whole bloody type case this time!”
I was literally terrified of a man that I have now grown to Love!
In 2009, one morning I awoke from a dream with a shudder and felt ashamed.
I realised that I had let 36 years pass under the bridge and still  had not forgiven a man for those battered pieces of lead type so many years before…
Mr. Dell, our Beloved Luncheon Leader, you are indeed an Old Guv Legend!
PS: My favourite story about the young Porks was that during his Printing Apprenticeship on a particularly hot day he had been asked by the senior printers to go out and get some milk, bring it back and put it on ice to keep it cold.
When it was time for their tea break imagine their horror when they found out that our hero had got the bottles of milk, taken the tops off and poured  it all over the top of the ice in the work sink.
Worse still it was slowly being spoilt by the sludge in the sink. It was useless!
TRUE STORY.

Vale Bruce Watts Lockier.

Photograph: Bruce and Joan Lockier.
It is with great sadness that we report the passing of Bruce Lockier on Sunday, 15 March, 2020.
Joan Lockier has advised that there will be a Private Funeral and a Memorial Service at an appropriate time.
Bruce was born on 24 June 1928 to parents John and Lilian Lockier at a Maternity House in Maylands.
His twin sister Nancy was born half an hour before him.
Bruce began his education at Magill Primary School and later attended Norwood Tech where he gained his Technical Certificate after two years which included subjects in woodwork and sheet metal work.
At 15 years of age Bruce arrived at The Old Guv Printing Office in May 1943 and started out as a “shitboy” in the Comp Room, sweeping the outside pavement, filling the wash basins in the ladies rest rooms and enamelled jugs with clean water for the overseer and foreman.
On completion of his apprenticeship Bruce worked as a practical joker, compositor, linotype operator, Hansard proof reader and at times acted as a Clicker.
I was a great shock to all when Bruce tendered his resignation in the mid 1960s and left for ‘better things’.
He joined the Apple and Pear Board as a Section Organiser.
Some say he couldn’t tell an apple from a pear.
However Bruce became highly successful in improving that organisation.
Don Woolman

The Kiddie from Kadina.

5270099698_e2bb74fd76_bBruce Kutcher was born at Kadina under the shade of the Wombat Hotel. He worked for a small print shop before moving to Adelaide and settling in at the Old Guv.
As a jobbing comp, Bruce was well skilled and no job was beyond his talent. He was placed under the watchful eye of Fred Hardwicke, who looked after and stood up for his group of comps.
Bruce loved his cigarettes and was a chain smoker. Some days he had a fag in his mouth, another on the Ludlow and one alight in his frame next to me. He also had a love for a beer and every lunch break was off to the pub. 
Even on overtime, during the tea break he was off to the pub. Bruce won a prize in a Cricket Club raffle (3 bottles of sherry). Did he take it home? – well no, as Bruce and I consumed 2 bottles during OT. Boy! was I pissed. On arriving home I said to my wife ‘Hi I’m home’ and promptly passed out – she was not happy.
Bruce was a skilled fisherman – knew every knot in the book and often made up fishing lines for Fred and others. Bruce would take our wooden forme furniture and turn it into amazing ‘floats’ to take to fishing.
Some Saturday mornings Roger Francis, Bruce and myself would go to Outer Harbour to fish. It wasn’t long before Bruce would produce a bottle of grog and the fishing became enjoyable. One morning Bruce hooked a seagull and all hell broke loose.
Bruce was seen limping quite badly one morning on the Jobbing floor. On closer inspection Bruce Lockier informed Bruce that his shoes were on the incorrect foot. Another time Bruce arrived wearing two different brown shoes.
Bruce turned up one day clearly not well. Ron Evans told him to go to the Railways Tavern and have a stout and port wine poured into a glass. Hours later he returned so pissed that Fred ushered him to the bus stop.
Bruce and I used to buy fireworks in November, especially throwdowns, and constantly tossed them at others. Also flower pots, jumping jacks and squibs were tossed under the dunny doors causing mayhem.
Bruce loved the Cricket trips to Melbourne where he could drink constantly and one trip he fell out of the bus head first, missing all the steps.
Moving to Netley was Bruce’s downfall as the bus stop to Netley was close to the Majestic Hotel. He would alight from the bus from Nailsworth and enter the pub for a drink or two.
When he finally arrived at Netley Bert Cotton had sealed the doors, so if the doors did not open, Bruce just turned around and went off home via a pub or two.
In the end Bruce gave up coming to work as the doors were continually locked, his marriage broke up and he spent his final days living with his aged mother, yet Bruce was never sacked, simply taken off the ‘books’.
The Toff