Steve Mackney
14 August 2021, 7:47 PM
THE BOB BARNES STORY
The Barnes family L to R David, Jacqui (Patterson), Bob, Jim, Angela, Helen, Matthew and Carolyn (Speer).
Many people will be familiar with the expression, “Bob Barnes corner”. This is the bend on the Bruxner Highway between the Hilltop Hotel and the East Point Shopping Centre in Goonellabah which thousands of people pass every day.
Bob Barnes and his wife of 57 years, Helen, built their family home on this corner, some 42 years ago after finding a parcel of land that they “knew was perfect”. The magnificent family home, that incorporates an office to cater for the demands of managing the business known as Barnes Storage, is where I had the great fortune of chatting with Bob about his life, his family, business history and how a Lismore lad “done good”.
This story is centred on Bob Barnes, but it is absolutely apparent that his lifelong partnership with his loving wife Helen, underpins the depth of influence within our community that Bob has achieved in his life. Businessman, family man, generous, committed volunteer, celebrated Rotarian and inspirational individual are each descriptives that aptly lead to applauding the life of Bob Barnes.
The Bob Barnes Story is however best told by the man himself, so here it is;
I was born in Lismore in 1939 at the Dongrayle Hospital, which subsequently became the Lismore RSL Club.
My parents were Greg and Lauria Barnes (nee Spinaze), whose family came to Australia by ship on the infamous and tragic Marquis de Ray expedition in 1879 and settled at New Italy.
I was one of six children, with my sister Mary (Scroope) being the first born, then me, then Len, John, Rita (Tawnswell) then Laurie completing the clan. My Dad had a bike shop in South Lismore.
At the age of 26 he went to the greyhound races at Coleman’s Point in Lismore as a punter and noticed that that the “punters” were riding pushbikes and the bookies were driving cars, The second time he went to the races he was a registered bookmaker, which he was for the next 48 years. The influence of horse racing proved to be important to our family for many years, with myself and each of my siblings being married on either a Friday or a Monday to avoid interfering with the races on Saturday.
I was raised in the days of large families, baby-boomers, limited transport, limited communications and post-war re-building. Environmental issues were unheard of and there was plenty of work. Everyone seemed to have a job and it was expected that you worked when you left school and took whatever job was available. You bought locally, seldom left town and a big day out was going to the footy on Saturday afternoon at Nesbitt Park to watch Norths play Souths.
Bob, his father and brothers, left to Right: Len, John, Dad (Greg), Laurie and Bob, taken at the Tatts clubs in Brisbane
The Duck Pond area of South Lismore is where I grew up. As kids, we seldom went to the Baths because it was too far to walk. Most of the locals swam in the river and the kids soon learnt to swim because the water was too deep away from the edge.
A NSW Government Railways rope was tied high in a Willow tree that hung out over the water and when you finally got to use the rope, you felt like you had made it. Swinging out off the rope was part of growing up and it was right up there with learning to ride a bike.
Lismore was known as the Queen’s City of the North in those days. Sydney was a world away and the thought of actually travelling to the Big Smoke, was something that few people from this region ever considered unless it was for a very special reason and likely only by way of a very long train trip.
Life and times for us in Lismore in those days was certainly different, with the place being just a big country town.
The Ballina Street Bridge didn’t exist and Goonellabah was a farming area located a long way from Lismore. Most people had chooks in the backyard, a vegie patch and who would ever forget the 44-gallon drum in every backyard that acted as an incinerator. Besides all this, the kids did what was known as ‘chores’. TV hadn’t come to town yet and the university was a pipe dream. The sole public High School was in Keen St and pushbikes were the most popular mode of transport.
Like all places, Lismore had its identities. Whether it was J.C. MacIntosh, who was rumoured to be the wealthiest man in Lismore, and who was one of the main players in bringing Channel 8 to town, or if it was the legendary Hack Phillips.
It is said that Hack could add up three columns of figures at once. He was a notorious drifter through the local pubs and was very adept at cadging a beer from many of the locals, in return for a smart story, or innuendo. Hack had many sayings. One was “Hey buddy, I’ve got a girl in trouble, could you lend me a quid”. I will never forget him going into a Lismore Hotel one afternoon and saying to the barmaid “Sweetheart – do you believe in the hereafter?” The barmaid replied “Why certainly Hack, I do.” To which Hack replied “Well I’m hereafter a beer - give us one”
As kids, the biggest form of entertainment in the winter time after school and at weekends was sliding. Sliding was a type of tobogganing without the snow. The local sliding track was over the road from our house and it was the scene of many thrills and spills, grazed knees and elbows. We didn’t wear shoes to school in those days. You could run faster without them and they gave you blisters anyway. It was an era when ripped clothes from sliding just got mended and re-mended. Families were more frugal as they had to be because of post-war shortages and rationing.
The newspaper was delivered by a boy on a bike and people left their vehicles unlocked with the keys in the ignition.
Bread, milk and ice (that acted as refrigeration), were also delivered by the local deliveryman, sometimes by horse and cart. If it was going to rain, people took their neighbour’s washing of the line for them and everybody knew everyone. Victor mowers were fast taking over from the ‘push mowers’ and they were known as toe-cutters.
Kids who were lucky enough to get to the cinema, known as the ‘flicks’, at the Star Court on Saturday afternoon had to stand up for the King of England while they played the British National Anthem ‘God save the King’ before the movie started.
Respect for your elders and for authority was ingrained into you from early days and you would only ever address an older person as “Mr” or “Mrs” and never by their first name unless you were invited to do so. You stood up for a lady on the bus and always (well generally) did what your teachers and parents told you to do.
1952, Bob aged 13 and his brother, Len, aged 10.
My initial school days were at Our Lady Help of Christians, which was close to our home in South Lismore.
When I was 11, it was decided that I had to go to Marist Brothers, which was “way across town”. I had to wear shoes more regularly now and when they wore down, they were taken to the boot-makers for repairs. This was a time when recycling was really a necessary way of life and when shoes got too small, they were passed down to a sibling.
A second-hand pushbike was the mode of transport to school (rain, hail or shine) as there was no school bus from South Lismore. There were no girls at Marist Brothers and you weren’t even supposed to talk to them after school either – they were simply something to be looked at and wondered about.
When I was 14, my parents eventually sent me to Woodlawn where I believe they thought I would be turned into a dentist or a lawyer, or maybe even a Judge, but that didn’t eventuate.
At the end of fourth year (year 10) I realised it would be near impossible to get the four B’s necessary to get the Leaving Certificate and a Teacher’s College Scholarship. I didn’t want to be a teacher anyway. I wanted to leave school and become an auctioneer and Real Estate salesman, but fate would dictate that my working life would take me in a very different direction.
My father knew a chap on the Public Works Department, who lined me up to apply for a job as an apprentice plumber and I started soon after. I didn’t realise however that I would be working for the next five years on small country schools, public buildings and Police Stations anywhere from South Grafton to Tweed Heads and West to Glen Innes.
In those days the majority of the men on the work gang I was thrown in with were returned servicemen and ex-POWs, some of whom were poor tradesmen (the result of not being properly trained due to the war).
We often had to camp at the schools where we were working, and our bedroom, lounge room, bathroom and dining room was the weather shed. The water tank and a dish became our shower, kitchen sink and basin. We cooked on a Primus, the menu consisted of steak and spuds.
It was a pretty willing existence, with every man for himself. Nobody shared and you took your supplies for the week to the bush with you on Monday morning. You could buy T-bones for ‘four bob’ a pound and a loaf of bread was ‘one and six’.
I was the youngest on the gang by far. There were some pretty tough camps and rough language and coarse talk that was new to this 17-year-old.
It was interesting to hear the war stories, but some of the men would have nightmares, which was very confronting and one bloke even slept with a tomahawk under his portable bunk.
Every second Thursday was payday and it made some blokes feel like they were instant millionaires, so naturally, it was off to the pub. With a few beers under the belt, old wounds and grudges were often aired and scores were settled with a bit of Dutch courage and bravado. It wasn’t always a pleasant place to be for a 17-year-old non-drinker just out of boarding school and away from home for the first time.
Once a country boy, always a country boy and Lismore offered everything that I believed life was about in those days. Weekends consisted of football training on Friday night, the dance on Saturday night and football or Surf club on Sundays, depending on the time of year. The pubs shut at 10 o’clock and didn’t open on Sundays.
Blokes wore Brylcreem in their hair and deodorant was generally ‘lifebuoy’ soap. And if a guy was to wear sunglasses on a construction site he was considered soft. Girls wore the H-line or flared skirts to the dances, often with a ribbon in their hair.
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On Saturday nights it was off to the Metropole Hotel with your mates till 10 o’clock and then to the ‘Riv’ (the Riviera dance hall) next to the old Kirklands Bus depot (opposite the rowing club in Magellan street) where you paid ‘four bob’ to get in.
You danced or rocked to Stan Chilcott’s 15-piece orchestra and tried to pick up a girl until it was all over by 12 sharp. If you were lucky enough to meet a girl, the classy place to go after the dance was Harry Crethar’s Milk Bar in Keen St for a toasted ham sandwich and coffee. But if you were still on the streets at 12:45 the cops would tell you to get home in no uncertain terms.
The Unemployment Office was next to the bridge at the corner of Woodlark and Molesworth Streets (above where Parry’s Office Supplies used to be). And its entire staff consisted of 3 employees. The dole was unheard of. Long Service pay was something you got after 10 years working for the one boss. Superannuation, redundancy and payouts, weren’t even fathomed. You could be hired one week and fired the next if you didn’t perform. And you were lucky to get 3 weeks annual leave with pay.
Finance companies were unheard of, with a bank being the only financial institution that people used. Most deals were done on a handshake and “cash” was a common form of payment.
National Service Training entered my life during my apprenticeship in 1959. I remember the second day there and everyone had to get a haircut. The hair on the Barber’s shop floor was six inches deep and there were about 20 blokes in front of me. I yelled out to the barber, ‘I’ll come back tomorrow’ and his reply was ‘take a seat mate, I won’t be long’.
There were two guys cutting hair, one on the scissors and the other on the shears and they didn’t change tools, they just changed chairs. They didn’t put a sheet around your neck to protect your clothes, nobody missed a turn and I was out in 10 minutes.
Bob on National Service, 1959, aged 19, at Wacol, Queensland.
After National Service I went on to continue my plumbing apprenticeship, which I finished in 1961 – the apprenticeship included attending the Lismore Technical College each week for 5 years which I did without missing a class.
In 1962 I worked for a Casino based plumbing contractor, Frank Swift, for twelve months. In 1963, when I was aged 23, I started my own business as a plumbing contractor. During the course of the next fifteen years, I put five apprentices through their time and each of them subsequently started their own successful plumbing business.
It was about this time, (actually I started to get involved from the age of 18), that I took on the colourful task of SP betting.
In those days, the TAB did not exist and if someone wanted to have a bet (on the horses, for example), they had to actually be at the track and transport was limited.
Most pubs, and every third corner store across the country, therefore, had an SP operator, where people could ‘get set’ (that is, place a bet). Whilst not legal on paper, it was something that was tolerated by the authorities and was generally looked at as being of service to the public. We took bets from people in all walks of life, and I mean all… it was a wild ride.
In 1971, when I was 32, and Helen was pregnant with our 5th child, Carolyn, it was decided that the hectic lifestyle had run its course and I said goodbye to that side of life. The TAB had come to town anyway.
It was also during 1971, in my latter years as a plumbing contractor, that I installed a 12-metre above-ground swimming pool in my backyard and the word soon got around that I could install above ground pools. This resulted in quite a few enquiries and subsequently many above ground pool installations. People soon asked me to build below ground pools, and I had no idea what to do, so I took an employee and myself to Brisbane where we knocked on the door of a pool builder and offered to work for him for one week for nothing.
I soon picked up what I needed to know because of my background in plumbing and building construction. About this time I happened to be flying over the northern suburbs of Sydney and looking out the window I could not get over the number of pools dotting the landscape. I said to myself, ‘pools are the way to go, forget about the plumbing’. I was the first professional pool builder between the Gold Coast and Newcastle. I would build pools full-time for the next 25 years.
Perhaps those early days swimming in the river and being in the surf club kindled my love for the water. Lismore was my home town and I knew a lot of people in the area and I would go on to build about 420 below ground backyard pools between Grafton, Kyogle and Ocean Shores. By the time I finished that phase of my business interests it was 1996.
Bob in 1972, aged 33, the year he started building swimming pools.
Somehow during these years, I coordinated doorknock appeals in Lismore and Ballina for the Lismore-Ballina Surf Lifesaving Club and was a member of the St Vincent de Paul Society. Then, in 1987, in the middle of a busy phase of 6 kids, family and career, I was invited to join Rotary in Lismore – the Rotary Club of Lismore West.
I was 48 at the time and the average age of the members was 54 and I thought ‘what am I doing getting mixed up with all these old buggers?’ Thirty-four years later and I’m still in Rotary and take great pride in the camaraderie and service that we have been involved in. It has ranged from making health videos to building and fundraising.
We raised money to install the safety cameras in the Lismore CBD, organised 110 people to pay $100 each to be the first to jump into the new Lismore baths when it was opened, filled many shipping containers with medical and educational items to send to the Pacific Islands and ran many golf days in Lismore involving local businesses.
With the selfless help of many local professional house painters, we painted the 2 story girl guides hall, inside and out, with two coats, in one day for less than $1000 – that’s a good example of what can be achieved through Rotary.
With wonderful community involvement, I coordinated for us to host one charity event that raised $92,000 in one night for 6 local charities and many more… but all of that is another story.
Bob Receiving a Rotary award
In 1981, I could see that Lismore was progressively moving from the basin up the hill to the east, so I bought land in Holland St in the Goonellabah industrial estate. This would be where we eventually built storage sheds. That would also prove to be a successful move as demand grew for people to hire a shed to store items away from their home or business. Storage is now the family business and while my age would suggest that I should be retired, being busy and hard work, continues to motivate me.
Fast forward several decades and as I reach 82 years of age, I feel very satisfied that I can say without hesitation that my life has been lived according to my core values. Achieving personal goals, such as business success, has allowed Helen and myself to live a comfortable life.
My work with community groups, no more than Rotary, has been exceptionally satisfying and I am truly humbled and get a bit emotional, when I reflect on the honours that have been bestowed on me, such as receiving a Prime Minister’s Award and an Australia Day Award and several esteemed Rotary accolades. These things were each special moments and will forever be remembered as gestures of acknowledgment that I never sought, but of which I am very appreciative.
Bob and Helen, 1963, Bob aged 24, Helen aged 23.
Bob and Helen in 2021 in their garden, Bob aged 82, Helen aged 81.
The measure of success for me will never be more important than my family. I was fortunate to have been born into a salt of the earth family and while I have been fortunate to have accumulated a few material possessions in my lifetime, nothing will ever be more treasured to me than my family.
Helen and I first met when we were each at school and we both believe that it was our destiny to fall in love. We eventually married in 1964 and we are blessed to have lived so long and experienced so much. We celebrate our wonderful children and grandchildren, every day and time with them outranks anything else.
My story is as much about Helen. It may sound like a cliché, but Helen has been my rock and without her, I could not have become the person that I am. Helen has been a friend, sound confidante and an extraordinary wife and mother.
As we grow older together, I believe that we can rightfully reminiscence with much pride, about a couple of local kids who each came from humble beginnings and managed to put together a pretty good life. For us, nothing is more important than the legacy that we have created for our children and their families.
Whenever I have been asked about the measure of success, I simply say, “Set your goals clearly, work to it, BELIEVE in yourself. A fair day’s pay should reflect you doing a fair day’s work.” Life is what you make of it!
Thank you. The rest is history.
The extended BARNES family
Despite having known Bob Barnes for many decades, I concede how little I really knew about a man and his family, who should rightfully be heralded as making an exceptional contribution to the Lismore community.
What a pleasure it has been to be allowed to share some time with a person who epitomises so much of what is engrained within the heart and soul of Lismore.
Bob is tenacious, honest, visionary and logical. If we could only harness more influence in society with the sound core values and pragmatism of Bob Barnes, my view is that our world would more appropriately navigate the hurdles in life that are seemingly more complex. Every community needs people like Bob and Helen Barnes.
We applaud the contribution that you and Helen have made to our community.
As the patriarch of the Barnes family, I say Thank You Bob for sharing some of your inspirational journey.
TRADE & CONSTRUCTION