For 45 years Joe lived at power pole 251 on
National Highway One. Living under a tarp with his radio as his best mate. A
few who traveled the road frequently got to know him, bringing him water, food,
magazines, books, batteries for the radio and the occasional treat.
Hidden away from the world Joe lived his life with the few things he needed,
but his friends knew where to find him. Almost deaf , with little vision and
missing a few fingers Joe lived his life, but still kept up with the *footy,
particularly Port Power who he could tell you almost anything about.
In May 2007 Joe was found on the side of the road. He had fallen and broken his
hip so he dragged himself to where he might be found. In hospital Joes health
declined and he agreed to move into a nursing home, never having registered for
the **dole or pension this was also arranged for him.
Sadly, after his health deteriorated Joe past away 27th June 2007. He never got
his first pension cheque.
Joe was 85.
* Australian Rules Football
** Unemployment benefits.
*Pretty much the only photo of Joe taken a few years before his death, sitting there on the end of his bed.
After his passing Joe Sutton was cremated and his ashes spread at his home
camp, free in the place he loved.
Joe's place still remains today. A memorial has been placed at his old camp and a plaque has been placed on power pole
251. Visitors can also sign a memorial book located at the site.
A Geocache has been placed in memory of Joe to preserve his story as long as
possible. Hidden just off the highway its another piece of history that shouldn't
be lost in the scrub.
RIP Joe
14/1/1922 - 27/6/2007
My
Opinion.
In this modern world we don’t see things
like this anymore, I was one of the millions who traveled that road from time
to time and whipped past old Joe without ever knowing he was there, less than
100 metres from the nations busiest East/West highway.
I found his camp after he died when it
was first made into a Geocache, we walked into it feeling like it was someones
home because that’s how it was set up. His bed and clothes bundled under a low
tarp against a tree which in which hung an assortment of personal objects.
Glasses, comb, watch, a hat, a coat. The area directly around his bed was swept
clean with a dry branch leaned against a tree and further away an enormous pile
of old food cans, each with the label removed no doubt for fire starting. His
hearth was tiny so he obviously only used it for cooking as the area still had
bountiful supplies of fallen wood.
We looked through his things and walked the
whole area wondering where he got food and water out here in Summer.
He never told anyone where he came from or
why, his last name wasn’t even known until he was forced to apply for a pension
and he only did that so the free hospital coverage would pay for his treatment.
*The camp as we approached it from the road, his bed to the left under that tree, his only chair placed to get the afternoon sun
What would you call this old man?
I'm tempted to say he was an old time ***Swaggy
but he didn't move, he just stayed there under his tree.
He wasn’t a Bum in the sense that he didn't
ask for anything, he took no money and those that dropped by did so because
they wanted to have another chat with Old Joe.
You can see by the pictures we took that he
didn't have much, what he did have would barely fill a small cardboard box. I
walked the camp and could make out that it had been shifted a few times over
the 45 years but was still within 30 metres of where he finished up.
* The view to the North, nothing but small trees and a far off range of hills.
I've traveled the bush a fair amount and I
often come across remnants of camps, you can see by the refuse how long they
were there and when they were abandoned.
In the middle of bloody nowhere I've found
old boots, a broken bottle or some long ago forgotten thing that says a man
once passed this way.
How many Old Joes are there out there?
How many dropped dead where they were and
are still?
***A Swag is a bed roll made of a blanket and
any clothes etc you might have, it's slung over your shoulder as you walk.
Swaggies walked the country looking for work or just living off the land.
*Looking through the trees to the West just on sun set.
.
