| "A Remarkable 
                Character" In the early fifties, I regularly attended the
                  Camden Stock Sales. These were held each Tuesday.
                  This was a great opportunity to meet the local
                  farmers and as I was selling tractors and motor
                  vehicles many sales were secured on these days. After the sales, most gathered in the local
                  hotel for an enjoyable hour. I met many interesting
                  people on these days, including one of the most
                  remarkable characters I ever met. Jim Rootes had lived in Luddenham all his life,
                  and had always been closely associated with horses.
                  In his early days, he used to round up wild horses
                  in the foothills of the mountains and drive them to
                  Wallacia. He said an Irishman paid him so much a
                  head for them. He also was into racehorses, touring
                  the country race meetings. He told me some great
                  tales about those days. He started a butchery business in Luddenham
                  operating from a cutting cart. He did his own
                  killing and delivered the meat on a regular run in
                  his cart. As there was no refrigeration, any meat
                  left over after the run was boiled down. At the time I met Jim, he had retired but still
                  had a few cattle and retained his interest in the
                  property. My first meeting with Jim was deliberately
                  planned by me. I had heard that he could be a
                  prospect for a new utility truck. After a couple of
                  sessions with him at the saleyards, I decided that
                  this was not the best venue to attempt a sale and I
                  would visit him at his home. I had already summed up the nature of the man
                  and arrived at the following conclusions; he was
                  tough; he pulled no punches; he spoke his mind on
                  all things, regardless of whom he upset. If you
                  couldn't take it, that was your problem. If you
                  could you were his friend. At the time he was in his sixties, but he could
                  still turn on the charm for the ladies. I had already decided on a trade-in price for
                  his existing Ute. It was a 1937 International and
                  was in a most neglected state. Some of the cab
                  windows were missing and replaced by sheets of
                  Masonite. I decided to call unannounced and duly arrived
                  about midday. I knocked on the door and was called
                  in. Jim was sitting on the front verandah and told
                  me his wife was away in Sydney for the day. We talked for a while, but I couldn't bring the
                  conversation around to the sale of the Ute. The
                  verandah faced the old Luddenham road. On a block
                  of ground on the other side was an old
                  double-decker bus with washing hanging on a line
                  outside. I asked Jim if someone lived there. He
                  said there was a young married couple with five
                  kids. I think it's five, let me see, there's two
                  that's his and two that's hers and one that's
                  theirs. But she keeps them clean. As I was getting nowhere, I suggested that we
                  would be better talking over a beer at the Wallacia
                  Pub and Jim agreed. At last I could get him in the
                  new Ute. When we finally reached the pub, I
                  realised that on the trip down Jim had absolutely
                  ignored all attempts to interest him in the
                  vehicle. We settled down to hours of solid drinking and
                  anxious to get back to the Ute, I suggested we move
                  on. Jim immediately turned on me. "So you can't
                  drink any more" - I denied this and ordered two
                  more schooners. Fortunately one round after that
                  Jim decided he had all he could handle. We left the
                  pub and drove back to Jim's house. Again he
                  completely ignored the Ute. I began to think I was
                  wasting my time. When we pulled up in his back yard, he surprised
                  me with an announcement. "Before you can sell me a
                  Ute Bare, you have to prove yourself". "I challenge
                  you a standing jump, a running race or a wrestle".
                  I was in no condition to jump or run, so I chose
                  the wrestle. We set-to on the lawn. In spite of my
                  age advantage, he was very strong. I also didn't
                  want him to be the loser. Just when I was
                  considering the outcome of the ridiculous turn of
                  events, we were inundated with a torrent of water.
                  Jim's wife had arrived home and, not knowing what
                  was going on, threw a full bucket of water over
                  us. When we picked ourselves up, she looked at me
                  and said "I know you. You are Roy Bare". I was
                  surprised because the last time we met, I was about
                  eight years old. We certainly must have presented quite a picture, covered in 
                dirt, shirts torn and very drunk. She ordered us into the house 
                to clean ourselves up, while she made a cup of tea. I figured I had passed all tests by this time
                  and when we settled down for the first time, I
                  suggested we close the deal on the Ute. His reply
                  was to throw his chequebook to me with instructions
                  to "write the cheque out my bloody self". Victory at last! When I handed him back the
                  book, he grabbed my arm and shook hands vigorously.
                  He then said, "you know Bare, lots of fellers have
                  tried to sell me a Ute with their little bags and
                  their little mo', but I like the way you do
                  business". Finally, I was able to get away and it was a
                  great relief to find myself in the peaceful night
                  air. I was no sooner out than the door opened and
                  Jim called me back. He then asked a question that I
                  will never forget. He said, "Tell me Bare, what
                  sort of a Ute did I buy, not that I give a bugger,
                  but my boys are sure to ask me?". How many salesmen can claim such a unique
                  sale? After a good nights sleep, I woke up feeling
                  pleased with the previous days work. This feeling
                  was short lived. I decided to check over the
                  figures of the deal and discovered I had
                  undercharged him by One Hundred Pounds! This meant
                  I would have to go back and recover the money. He
                  would be sober and in a different frame of mind and
                  I fully expected him to call off the deal. When I arrived he was working in his shed and I
                  told him that due to an error he owed me One
                  Hundred Pounds. His reply was to throw me his
                  chequebook and he simply said "there are plenty
                  more cheques in the bloody book aren't there?". I realised that out of all our ups and downs, we
                  had developed a great respect for each other and a
                  friendship that lasted many years. I had earned his
                  respect by never backing down to his many
                  unorthodox approaches to all he met. This was his
                  way of sorting people out. I recently attended Jim's funeral at the
                  Luddenham Church. He had lived in Luddenham for
                  just over one hundred years. Roy Bare 2001The photograph
                  below, taken in 1937, shows Roy (center) in his
                  first start in the Motor Trade under the Government
                  Trainee Scheme. The Motor Cycle Service company was
                  Watson & Kilfoyle - Macquarie St. Liverpool
                  NSW. On the right is Percy Watson (Proprietor) and
                  on the left is Oscar Easterbrook.[Roy passed away on the 29th June 2001]
 Note the first electric petrol pumps which have
                  just been installed with petrol at
 1 shilling & 9 pence per gallon (approx 4c /
                  litre).
 
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