Doreen George

Gerry McCarthy waxes lyrical about
one of Borroloola's best

Doreen George was born before the Second World War at Robinson River and has early memories of war planes flying across the vast Gulf Savannah.
Her fond memories as a child relate to the frequent bush trips with her mother and sisters, learning the ancient ways of the Garawa people, leaving the station life behind to discover the secrets of the country and the dreaming.
"My Dad was in the stockcamp for as long as I can remember. Lots of managers and drovers knew my Dad. He was that top cattle man with the big mob of family that would work for stations", says Doreen before breaking into her hearty laugh and wide smile.
"Ya know that bushfire Bunji, well when the old girls would see that smoke rising they would get real happy because their Garawa men would be coming back to station with big mobs of cattle', Doreen recalls.
We all 'crack up' into a real good laugh. Kelly George, Doreen's husband is with us sharing the memories and helping with the dates and events.
"Macintyre was an early manager for Calvert Hills in my Dad time. Had a wife named May Chong, those fellas were from Burketown", says Doreen.
Kelly jumps in, "Yeah but that Macintyre came from Winton, long way".
Doreen gives Kelly the nod and a loving smile as she sits in reflection. These two old station people spent the next three hours describing the early days of their station lives, the wonderful characters that influenced them and some proper cheeky white fellas who were far from fair or friendly! Doreen commanded the stage on this fine day with names, places and events. Grand stories in reflection among frightening recounts of pain and suffering. Out of this intricate oral history came the deep love of her father and the wonderful adventures he shared with her, her sisters and brothers and anyone else that he worked with.
"Dad and Old Redbank Rory, his brother, took on everything in that country. I travelled on foot with my father from job to job. We walked from Calvert Hills to Seigal Creek once when I was a teenager and it was there that I learnt to ride, muster cattle and wheel scrubber bulls!
"I got thrown plenty, Bunji, mainly in the morning! Dad would look after me, pick me up and give me the instructions. I really didn't like that boot at first, but Dad taught me and my sister Hilda about wearing boots and the proper place for your boot in the irons", says Doreen in full instructional mode.
Kelly jumps in with a demonstration. Using a paper punch and his slender hand, he explains to me the importance of having a proper foot and leg when in the saddle and the dangers of riding if not wearing a correct stockman's outfit.
Doreen agrees but adds she could not get used to wearing those old army coats the manager would give her. "Might belong to a dead fella, Bunji", she quips with a rare serious look.
The trio break out again into fits of laughter once again. Doreen continues to entertain us with exciting stories of adventure and hardship, of being introduced to new people, new customs, new foods and new experiences that were generations removed from her comfortable Garawa traditions and law.
Doreen described her first encounter with a pig. She was with her father's team delivering a mob of cattle to the Queensland drover on Old Corinda Station. One of the drover's team shot the pig, butchered it and cooked it in the ground oven. Kelly causes me to fall off my chair laughing when he sternly retorts, "Poor bugger, what this new animal comin'' along, first time you meet him, then you straight away eat him"!!!
Doreen returns some sanity to the interview with a salient, "Me and my sister were frightened to eat it! I bin whisper to Hilda, we could die here 'Bubba' from that new beef, long way from Mum. Dad whispered that it was OK to eat and he helped us girls".
Doreen's true and real compassion for all people surfaced regularly in her stories and reflections. The hardships of life, the frequent separations from her family, the cultural misunderstandings and the severe punishments from those in stolen positions of authority all combine under the 'cut' of the stockwhip to inspire the listener while demonstrating Doreen's rare, brilliant nature and genius.
One of her most compassionate stories was of how a manager shot her father in a punitive action that nearly cost the young Rory Brown his life. The Garawa discussed this position over many nights but little could be done to 'white fellas' that carried pistols on their belts. Nature, and I suspect ancient Garawa magic, did take its course when the manager in question met with a serious riding accident and broke his leg.
The honour and courage of a young Doreen stayed behind 'tailing' the wild cattle until help arrived from the station homestead.
My own shallow reaction was why the care and concern? The reply came in the form of a stern and wise warning.
"He carried a gun all the time, Bunji, even slept with that gun".
"Probably thought he was bloody John Wayne"!
When not working in the big house, fencing or digging the vast station gardens, Doreen was riding colts, mustering or travelling with droving teams. Doreen regularly reflected on the intrigue that took her interest as a young girl. Why the old women would paint the babies with charcoal to make them look more black? Why her sisters had to hide in the truck under the swags when the manager would meet with a Police or Welfare patrol? Why good station men would be punished with a whip or locked in the station gaol house for crimes of which they had no understanding?
"We had some good managers in those days, kind - and we had some proper cheeky ones", warns Doreen with a rare stern expression.
Doreen shared a very private story in the course of the interview. It happened on Calvert Hills Station while she was tailing a mob of fresh cattle near the river. As she was riding she witnessed a fierce fight between a brown snake and a goanna.
The fight went on for some time with the goanna emerging as the eventual winner. Covered in blood and suffering severe poisoning the goanna commenced a search by digging many holes looking for what Doreen describes as his medicine plant. After a number of attempts the goanna recovered some small 'yam like roots' from the ground and began to eat them. With his eyes rolling back and his life in the balance he then rested under a 'conkerberry bush'.
Doreen watched carefully while the goanna regained his strength and eventually walked off into his rocky country. To this day Doreen searches for those yams and believes they are active anti-venom for snakebite.
She and her family followed a 'white' station family to Floraville in the early 1960s. Kelly and Doreen assisted the drover, old Mick Hogan, escort the families cattle to help stock the Floraville Station. The couple lived there for three years before Doreen moved into Burketown and had another child. Kelly was constantly at work on nearby stations leaving Doreen to cope with the hardships of an outback town life.
Doreen reflects that on the days before she had civil rights and the problems she faced in raising her children. Not shy for work, Doreen took employment in the Albert Hotel and then to the Salt Pan store to supplement the families income. Their last station job was on Miranda Downs where both Kelly and Doreen returned to the work they knew best. Doreen gathered her family together and travelled to Borroloola on the death of her beloved father in 1989.
Today Doreen George is an elected member of the Town Council, the Rrumburriya Malandari Council and the Borroloola School Council. Doreen works at the school and in the town with the Yanula/Garawa Language Group and runs a household of children going right through to great-grand children.
This fine Australian stands tall as an outstanding citizen in our community.
She is a living treasure and a true human resource for all people.
"Ya know what, on my day I bin working all my life and I'm still workin'! I tell my kids this everyday and they say, that's all in the past but, Bunji, that need to be said for everyone, everyday ...!"