George Smallholme
There’s a certain kind of Kiwi who personifies the national characteristics that the rest of us like to think of as quintessentially New Zealand. Soft-spoken but steely-eyed. Mild-mannered yet determined.
Understated, unassuming, with a wry, self-effacing sense of humour. Tough in the face of adversity yet gentle with those who need a helping hand.
George Smallholme is one such ‘typical’ Kiwi battler. He was born and raised in a small coal-mining community on the West Coast of the South Island during tough economic times. Those formative years in the 1920s, along with some very strict parenting, instilled in him some pretty firm values. To this day George doesn’t smoke and neither does he drink.
‘Work hard, play hard’ is a maxim that seems tailor-made for George. A slow smile crosses his face as he recalls the fact that he wasn’t exactly a stellar student – an ironic state of affairs for someone who would later marry a teacher and whose daughter would become one of Northland’s most celebrated educators.
Sport
“No, no – I did just four years at high school and got out as soon as I can. I was far too busy with sport and Dad’s trucks. I left school at 17, got Dad to sweet-talk the driving instructor to give me my heavy truck licence, and set to work in the firm.”
“The firm” was Smallholme Motors in Granity, a settlement of just 450 people at the time, 28km north of Westport. The family firm was operated by George’s father, mother and brother. It had started as a small general goods carting business, expanded to support the burgeoning coal-mining sector, then added passenger services. By the time George became involved in 1943, during the height of World War 2, the passenger side of things had been spun off and the focus was on carting – an essential wartime service supporting the coal industry.
In 1946 the Smallholmes bought their first loader which enabled the firm to break into the earthmoving business. The expensive piece of kit also gave them their first, amusing and completely unintentional, introduction to the business of livestock transportation, a sector that was later to prove extremely profitable for the firm.
“I was heading home one day after work and was waved down by a local farmer trying to herd a wayward pig towards his farm. He and I snookered that pig good and proper. I dropped the bucket down in front of it and he pushed it in and climbed on top. I scooped them both up and dropped them off at the farm, safe and sound.”
The Smallholmes became the first firm to cart livestock out of the Buller. Even in the mid-1950s the essential goods licencing system allowed local businesses to cart general goods only 30 miles in competition with the railways, and perishables and livestock for just 50 miles. But there was a demand from local farmers to transport stock to the freezing works in Nelson, which had no rail service to Westport, so the Smallholmes smelled opportunity.
Crates
The brothers designed some steel crates, fitted these to their trucks and started moving 12 cows at a time at two pounds and five shillings a beast. Later, a farming cooperative wanted to freight stock to Christchurch so the Smallholmes applied for a licence to compete against the railways. They supported their application with a photograph of three TK Bedford trucks complete with the crates the brothers had built and – the licence was theirs!
Today, at the age of 95, George carries himself with the grace and bearing of a man three decades younger. His chest still swells with pride as he speaks of the other reason for his lacklustre school career. His beloved sport.
He was no slouch, was George. Tennis, football, squash and badminton all soaked up study time. And then there was cricket. And rugby. He represented Buller at cricket while still at school, and at rugby. He was a member of the 1949 Buller team, captained by his brother Oliver, remembered for Buller’s greatest moment in provincial rugby when it drew 6-6 with the powerful Otago union in the first Ranfurly Shield challenge of the season.
He was also a member of the West Coast Buller team that beat the touring Australian rugby team 17-15 in 1949. The Aussies went on to clean up for the rest of the tour, smashing the mighty All Blacks not just once, but twice. Small wonder the memory of his team’s victory brings a wry, understated smile of satisfaction to George’s face.
He’s run the Buller Gorge half-marathon a whopping 15 times – most recently in 2007 at the trifling age of 80!
His memories of growing up in the Buller in the hard days of the 1920s and early 1930s remain vivid.
“Money was scarce but I remember well that Mum and Dad saved on luxuries so we could all do things that we would remember for the rest of our lives. For instance, they took us to Westport to see the Southern Cross aeroplane piloted by aviation legend Charles Kingsford Smith. Dad paid ten shillings each for us all to have a flight. This was an absolutely amazing experience for us because, of course, we’d never flown. I was eight and have never forgotten either the flight or what seemed like the huge sum at the time for the tickets.
“Dad was investing in memories for his children. What an amazingly valuable lesson.”
Kathleen
George married Kathleen in 1954. The couple went on to have three daughters; Elizabeth, Karen and Debra. The couple moved to Kerikeri from the South Island to be closer to two of their daughters. They moved into Kerikeri Retirement Village in 2015, a decision that has since proved fortunate. George’s voice cracks a little as he tells the story of Kathleen’s slow slide into dementia, resulting ultimately in her transfer to the Village’s care facility.
“I was determined to look after her for as long as I could,” he says. “In the end I was desperate as I couldn’t give her the support she so clearly needed. The Village Support team gave me a huge amount of help but it reached a point where it was clear that Kathleen needed to be in full-time care. So I turned to the Village’s clinical manager, Kathy Renner, who was superb. Over the course of a weekend she organised a room for Kathleen in the care facility and she was far more comfortable there.”
It’s a short walk from George’s house to the care facility. He made it every afternoon to go and spend time with his Kathleen who, sadly, has now passed away peacefully - surrounded by her loving family. He was on his way there as our discussion came to a close. As I took my leave he accompanied me out of the door and set off. I turned to watch him go; his long, purposeful strides in the early afternoon sunshine carrying him to his love. Dedicated, self-effacing and endlessly caring – one of life’s winners and living testimony to all that’s best about this nation.
