Leading from the front issuu

the latter were easily hidden underneath the mattress.
Free-spirited, independent and adventurous, Pat created
his own fun within and outside the confines of the
Brethren world. He made friends readily and some even
joined him at Sunday School and for ‘exciting’ events such
as the Lantern Lectures, which were held at the Church
in the evenings.
Most of Pat’s childhood stories encapsulate classic
Kiwi fun, such as breaking the boredom of mid-afternoon
Sunday School by giving his mates stink bombs, those
little black seeds that when squeezed released their disgusting,
sulphureous odour into the small room, while the
guilty boys sat with angelic smiles plastered across their
faces.
Eventually released from Church confines, Pat and his
mates would hurry out into freedom and take a brisk walk
up to Marine Parade and along the Napier Breakwater,
looking for adventure. Sabbath would then conclude at
Repokite with a ‘feed’ prepared by Jessie and a biblical
board game.
With movies out of the question, the Saturday evening
Lantern Lectures were not to be missed. The Brethren Hall
was darkened and fascinating images of the Holy Land
came up on the screen. Then out of the silence would
come the unmistakable sound of a marble rolling down
the wooden floor from the back of the room to the front.
In another five minutes another would roll down, and then
another. Most of the viewers were not pleased. Before the
lights went on, Pat and his buddies had vanished into the
darkness and back to their homes, having enjoyed some
good, clean Saturday night fun.
Then there was the time Pat’s close neighbourhood ally
Alan Peake and he, probably both aged 10 at the time,
pulled the plug out of the baptism font so by the time parishioners
turned up for a scheduled Baptism, there was
not one drop of holy water to be seen. For this they were
chased around Clive Square by one of the Church elders.
Then Robert got to hear about it, for which Pat received a
smack on the bum plus his father’s disappointed admonishment:
“I thought you were a good boy.”
The family farm at Te Akau near Raglan became an
important place for Pat over the years. He happily spent
school holidays there, learning how to ride horses and experiencing
farming life at its toughest on the high country
sheep station. He loved every minute and could imagine
becoming a farmer himself when the time came to
choose a career.
It wasn’t all frivolous antics for Pat though, who was
after all the son of caring, committed Christians. As well
as loving a laugh he had a fierce compassion for those
less fortunate than himself. Two boys from France House
orphanage attended Central School with Pat and in winter
they would arrive looking cold in their thin grey shirts,
cotton shorts and bare feet. This had a profound effect on
Pat. Even at a young age he could see that life was much
harder for some than for others and he developed an abhorrence
for injustice.
When his birthday came around, Jess would ask him
to choose a party venue, guests, and menu. Every year,
without hesitation he chose a picnic at Pukekura, (Sugar
Loaf Hill) in Taradale with his two dear France House
friends and Alan. The boys would race up and down the
hill until exhausted and then tuck into a great spread.
Over the years the Open Brethren modified their attitude
to become more accepting of leisure and sports.
Young men took up swimming, tennis and tramping, etc.
One family installed a tennis court in their back yard for
their four athletic sons. Another built a house next to
McLean Park so all the family could see the rugby games
on Saturdays from the verandah of their elevated home,
while Pat reveled in playing rugby whenever he could.
SHOP LIFE
Getting the hang of the retail trade at Robert Magill Ltd
was another learning curve in Pat’s life. When the bell
rang at the end of the day at Napier Intermediate, he
would ride his bike to the family store and carry out his
after-school jobs. First task was delivering the big pile of
parcels to customers living on Napier Hill. Loading up
his bike he’d start the long, exhausting drag up Colenso
Avenue and on to the steep little side streets leading to
scattered homes, where he would deliver the goods.
Back down the hill to the shop, he’d share a joke or
two with the attendants in the Men’s Department and
observe his old dad serving the chatty customers of Carlyle
Street. Many were poor and Pat could hear his father
reducing the prices so they could afford a pair of Harris
Tweed trousers or socks for the kids.
Meanwhile, his mates would arrive, twins Max and
Rex Lane who were also on the payroll to help out with
anything required. The boys would prepare kapok for
customers to purchase and make their own pillows,
package up orders or fold paper and tie up pieces of
string that were lying about the storeroom. Robert often
told his young staff that he “knew a man who’d made
a successful business from collecting string and paper”,
which would get the boys sniggering every time.
Pat's Early Days 13