FATHER AND SON
What you read here is an indulgence and I make no apology for it. It is the story of a close friend, who is totally blind, and his only son, and their abiding passion for trucks and family heritage.
Nonetheless, it is a difficult story to tell because it mixes the inherently opposing loyalties of a strong personal relationship with the responsibility to report the challenges and pressures of an enterprising family business.
But it is, above all else, a story of human spirit and the strength of family. My hope, and only hope, is to do it justice.
ON MY OFFICE wall hangs a large framed photo of two little boys under broad-brimmed hats, their backs to the camera, sitting on a big log. One almost six years old, the other barely a year older, their gaze stuck on a truck and trailer loaded with hardwood logs.
The truck they’re so intently focused on is a black ‘Super Star’, the 1,000th Western Star sold in Australia, with the words Bruce Mathie & Sons on the doors.
The year is 1993, the place a timber mill at Lawler’s Creek on the Princes Highway, just a few kilometres north of the pretty town of Narooma on the NSW south coast, and even fewer kilometres from the Mathie base in a quiet industrial cul-de-sac on the outskirts of the little village of Dalmeny.
Out of shot in the background, two fathers smile at the sight of their sons being captured in an image of little boys and big boys’ toys. The symbolism is strong and the photo will eventually adorn calendars and the walls of corporate offices from Canada to the US and Australia.
“I just enjoyed being with Dad. There was always something to learn from him.”
The younger of the two lads is my son, Dane. The other is Quinten Mathie, the only child of logging operator, Phillip Mathie. Time and circumstance will ultimately take each of the boys along completely different paths but with surprisingly similar levels of initiative and the brash, sometimes troubling boldness of youth, both will carve highly satisfying, rewarding careers of their own choosing.
Right at that moment though, I had no idea what future endeavours would entice my son. There was, however, little uncertainty surrounding Quinten’s direction, even at such a tender age. Rarely shy about expressing an opinion, he already knew exactly what he wanted to do and I don’t doubt
