John F. Miner's Hunter anecdotes on the record

There would be extremely few people now who could remember so long ago.

But one such person is Lake Macquarie's John F. Miner, former optometrist and industry pioneer plus once also Newcastle's top rugby union referee and its leading official.

"I was always a full-time rugby player and part time optometrist," the jovial, enterprising Miner said with a smile recently.

The amazing nonagenarian is also a man with a host of anecdotes, many probably unknown to younger generations.

There's a twinkle in the eye of this intelligent, articulate elder statesman of Newcastle with barely a hint of mischief on his lips as he speaks.

"I've just turned 96 years old and in four years I'll be 100. And what a life it's been," he said, recalling an era that's included a world war to man landing on the moon in 1969, to mammoth life changes and today's crazy, unsettled world.

He's also very aware, and surprised, really, that he's survived so long, and never takes things for granted, even his day-to-day existence. So, naturally he's wary of eating green bananas. Why? He simply replies deadpan: "I just hope I'm still around before they fully ripen".

An occasional leg-puller he might be, but he's also very serious about life in general and his memories.

"Everything's changed so much. If I happen to mention things from bygone days, like 'gas bag' cars (pictured) and trucks, kids today have no idea what I am talking about," he said.

"But they were once common in the 1940s, in World War II, when there were petrol shortages and rationing. Some vehicles had these strange big balloons fixed to the roof to store fuel and fed by a charcoal burner. They looked very odd but were necessary for some people to get around."

Miner's description made me even more curious to know more. Mounted atop vehicles, the coated fabric balloons containing town gas often looked like having a large hot dog on a vehicle roof.

Cumbersome wood gas cars have been around in two world wars when fuel supplies were limited. The Newcastle vehicles often seemed as if they were moving furniture or bales of wool while in reality they might be carting milk, meat, bus passengers or BHP goods over short distances.

Many vans and trucks, at least originally, were considered as fire risks with the fear the balloon fuel tank might blow off if vehicles went too fast. Overseas, waiting bus passengers were also advised not to smoke at bus stops.

"Then there was wartime (1939-45) censorship. Take the 1942 Japanese air attack on Darwin and its 64 raids. We were kept in the dark. News was delayed until much later to keep up the nation's morale. By comparison, if say, an aircraft is struck by lightning today, public knowledge is immediate. People onboard probably have even recorded it on their mobile phones. That's how much things have changed in my lifetime."

Still on WWII, Miner remembered travelling to Sydney by sea in a steamer just after the war's end in 1945. That's when the ship's captain told him of the potential danger of the voyage.

Leftover enemy mines were still bobbing about, drifting in the sea lanes between the two ports.

But a major interest of John Miner in years past was finding out exactly why Newcastle radio station 2HD was one of four commercial stations - from Newcastle to Adelaide - suddenly closed down in January 1941.

Miner even later wrote to Canberra's national archives seeking answers. Many of 2HD's staff were known Jehovah's Witnesses, a banned (pacifist) organisation, according to an initial letter from the State Censor in 1941.

The station's licence being revoked immediately came by order of the Navy Department.

The then Navy minister said one of the four broadcasting stations had broadcast information (apparently accidentally) that "might easily have led to most disastrous consequences".

Statements made on air could be picked up 500miles out to sea by an enemy raider or enemy agent and might involve Australian troop movements.

Miner said the authorities claimed 2HD at 8.55pm on January 1, 1941, had broadcast the message: "Cheerio to all onboard the Iron Chief at sea". This collier had sailed from Newcastle harbour almost four hours earlier and it was feared the ship might have then been the target of an enemy submarine's torpedo.

"Whatever happened was regarded as serious, because Radio 2HD was closed for maybe six years," Miner said.

"And then there was wartime misinformation. I know my profession was involved after British radar helped predict the patterns and targets of incoming German bombers against the UK.

"The Germans didn't realise at first, so Allied propaganda put out the story British farmers were growing extra carrots for their vitamin A to enable British fighter pilots to see better in the dark," Miner joked.

The former optometrist also fondly remembered past Newcastle entertainment, such as dances at The Palais and Town Hall when big bands with Billy Bates, Harry Tabernacle and Gordon Favelle were all the rage.

And, of course, the era of the once extremely popular Hammond organ player Wilber Kentwell at the keyboard at the suburban Savoy Theatre. Miner even still has some of the prized LP records at home as reminders.

"The Savoy was also one of the last suburban theatres to close. It's hard to imagine now, but Kentwell in the days before TV was a real showman, playing Gershwin. His Hammond console organ had a series of lights flashing as he played. Major colour changes. It was quite spectacular. Quite novel for the time. He was a real theatre drawcard, a major talent who was lured to Brisbane to work," Miner said.

Of course, mentioning the name John Miner in rugby union circles today rekindles memories of how he started a pastime of 'dead ant' at Newcastle University that's lasted 59 years.

Think of social or sporting functions with students suddenly rolling on their backs and kicking up their legs immediately the words 'dead ant' are yelled.

It's a fun thing of generally unknown origin. But it started at a finals RU match in late 1965, when Miner, as a quick-thinking referee, averting players hell-bent on an all-in brawl

Miner jumped into the melee invoking a 100-year-old rule for the first time, ordering players to show their boots for inspection, particularly potentially dangerous footwear studs.

For the inspection, angry players were forced to rein-in punches and instead lie on their backs in centre field 'bicycling' their feet. Tempers soon cooled and an ugly situation was defused.

That's what I call a real unorthodox approach. Thanks for the memories, John.