Booze, Bullets and the Blues

By John Beattie

As a child, John imagined that when he grew up, he would live in the countryside or some sleepy Ulster country town enjoying a quiet somewhat conservative lifestyle, just like his parents. Life, however, has a way of presenting us with both challenges and opportunities when we least expect them. John was devastated when unexpected mental health problems brought his first-year University studies to a grinding halt. When all appeared lost, the University Medical Officer arranged for specialist, professional help which got him through this difficult time. He was allowed to repeat first-year studies and eventually graduated with a BA. Motivated by the treatment and support he received during his illness, John made the somewhat unexpected decision to become a Social Worker.
Some years later, when John was working in Belfast, Ulster descended into vicious inter-communal violence, and he regularly witnessed the riots, bombings and gun-fights that were commonplace in the streets where his clients lived. When he transferred to a job in Londonderry things were no better. These were scary and stressful at times. John survived without physical or psychological damage and concedes that this experience may even have been character forming.! Then, when he was offered a job in sub-tropical Brisbane, he took the radical decision to move his wife and three young children half-way across the world to Australia: a country they knew nothing about! John relished this adventure, settled into his new job, and he and his family moved into a new house in the city outskirts.
Never, a gifted student, John was surprised when his Australian colleagues encouraged him to undertake part-time, post-graduate studies. He accepted this challenge and eventually gained a PhD. At school, John was always one of the last to finish in cross-country races. In Queensland, however, friends encouraged him to enter "fun runs", and he eventually completed a marathon. John's mental health problems have recurred briefly from time to time; he's had alcohol-related issues, and he has suffered from prostate cancer. First class professional treatment and support is available in Brisbane, and this has enabled him to get him back on track and to enjoy life with his wife and family.
Now in the "golden years" of retirement John has written this candid and sometimes hilarious autobiography. He hopes that it will inspire ordinary people, like himself, to live life to the full, but if challenged by health or substance abuse problems to reach out for professional help and support.

• Language: English
• Publisher: John Beattie
• Release date: Dec 31, 2018
• ISBN: 9780463392553

John Beattie

John has qualifications in Social Work, Social Planning, and Social Research. He came to Australia in 1977 to join the Queensland Alcohol and Drug Dependence Services where he worked in several senior positions. He subsequently worked in various management, policy and research positions before returning to Social Work practice. John has a special interest in community- based health promotion and this was the focus of his doctoral research at the University of Queensland. John is married with adult children. He and his wife are retired and share interests in the performing arts. Following his retirement, John has worked with a number of community organisations in a voluntary capacity. This has included “grass-roots” emergency relief work, volunteer development and corporate governance activities. He is currently an Ambassador with the Prostate Cancer Foundation of Australia and also volunteers as a Community Presenter with the Black Dog Institute and an IR volunteer with Encircle. John is an engaging public speaker and sometimes relives his earlier folk-singing days on stage.

Book preview

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Booze, Bullets and the Blues

An Irish Social Worker's Story

by

John Beattie

Booze, Bullets and the Blues by John Beattie

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2019: John Beattie

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Contents

Prologue

Introduction

Chaper 1: Where it all Began

Chapter 2: My Mother's Story

Chapter 3: My Father's Story

Chapter 4: Halycon Days

Chapter 5: School Days

Chapter 6: Booze and the Blues Part I

Chapter 7: Booze and the Blues Part II

Chapter 8: Making a Living

Chapter 9: Tying the Knot

Chapter 10: Moving Down Under

Chapter 11: Home Sweet Home

Chapter 12: Music, Music, Music

Chapter 13: Into the Great Unknown

Chapter 14: Navigating the Medical Maze

Chapter 15: The Need to Achieve

Chapter 16: Sunset Years

Epilogue

Author's Notes

Timeline

Prologue

Moving to Belfast seemed like a good idea at the time. We’d been living in a quiet rural area where I worked as a Family Social Worker, while my wife Lorna was at home caring for our young daughter. In Belfast, I would gain valuable professional experience, we could buy a house in the suburbs, and Lorna would be nearer to her family.

Of course, we knew that the ever-present sectarian tensions in Northern Ireland were worsening, but this was nothing new. However, this time things were going to be different. Soon after we settled into our new home, Belfast erupted in a maelstrom of inter-communal warfare. Rioting crowds began to destroy the homes of people on the other side of the sectarian divide. Shops and public buildings were bombed in what was described as a campaign of economic sabotage. Police struggled valiantly to maintain law but had to admit defeat in some localities which were then designated as no go areas. Detachments of the British Army were brought in to support the efforts of the police and act as peacekeepers.

One evening I was called out to respond to a report that a child had been seriously assaulted by her father. In such circumstances, it was usual for the Social Worker concerned to have a uniformed police escort. As this family lived in a "no go’ area my police escorts were in plain clothes, in an attempt to avoid angering the potentiality, hostile local residents. However, when we arrived the alleged perpetrator armed himself with a hammer and informed us at the top of his voice, that he would hurt us if we did not leave. A large crowd of local residents soon gathered to see what was happening. Hearing the commotion, a passing Army Patrol promptly marched down the street. The mood of the crowd soon changed from curiosity to anger. We were now in danger of being attacked by a mob or accidentally injured by an Army baton round or gas grenade.

We decided to make a swift retreat and returned to the Police Station for a strategy meeting. Abandoning the protection of this child didn’t seem like a good idea, so I agreed to go back on my own, after the crowd had cleared, and attempt to resolve the matter. The Police assured me that the hostile father would be subsequently arrested if he assaulted me. I approached the house with a racing heart, dry mouth and feeling slightly giddy. As someone who had suffered from anxiety and panic attacks these feelings were familiar to me. This time, however, the danger was real. I began asking myself the question Should I get the hell out of here before it’s too late? Fortunately, I kept walking towards the client's house, and by the time I got there, I had composed myself sufficiently to talk with the girl’s father and secure his co-operation with the removal of the girl to a place of safety pending further investigations and court proceedings. He told me how much he hated those Bastard Coppers and explained that was the reason he had threatened us. He was, in fact, later arrested by the Police, and sent to prison on remand where I visited him to update him about the ongoing legal processes.

I was, of course, glad that I had been able to get this job done despite the odds and I vowed that, never again, would I take a police escort into a no-go area. However, I was much too busy to spend any further time analysing what had happened that night. Thinking about this episode many decades later I realised that this had been something a turning point in my life’s journey. The terrified adolescent persona that had once ruled my life had failed to take charge. Instead, I'd behaved as many responsible adults would have, drawing on hidden reserves to cope with this challenging and scary situation.

While I would always be happy to leave macho man activities in the capable hands of the Police, I'd demonstrated a determination to meet my obligations to society and a capacity to solve problems in a non-violent way. There was no reason to continue denigrating myself as a wimp

Introduction.

As a child my mother would sometimes say to me content yourself son. Back then, I probably interpreted this as a request to settle down and stop pestering her. However, I’ve learned that there’s much more to the notion of contentment than simply becoming compliant or less irritating. I now think of contentment as peace of mind: that feeling of being at peace with ourselves and the world at large. As a young child, I really did enjoy this peace of mind, most of the time. In my late teens, however, dark clouds started to gather over my life. I developed uncertainty about my self-worth and felt the need to try and prove myself to others. As an introverted, bespectacled youth who lacked either academic brilliance or sporting prowess, this was an uphill battle.

Whenever life was getting me down, my mother would share some more of her homespun philosophy, don’t worry son, she would say, it’s a long road that has no turning. This was her way of explaining that we can’t predict what the future may have in store for use. Sooner or later, things will change: often for the better. So, it pays to look on the bright side! It's taken me many years to appreciate the wisdom of this old proverb and start applying it to my life.

Since childhood, I’ve always been a voracious reader and I have especially enjoyed biographies. Like many other people, I’m fascinated by the lives of people in the public eye: successful actors and musicians, elite athletes and politicians. It seems that some of the rich and famous have spent years working towards a childhood ambition, while for others, success seems to have been accidental. Former British Prime minister Harold Wilson was famously photographed on the steps of 10 Downing Street, and all of his subsequent education and employment experience prepared him for his rise to the top job. By contrast, iconic movie star John Wayne achieved fame without having an agent or ever attending an audition. When an injury ended his budding career as a professional footballer, he went to work as a messenger in the props department of a Hollywood studio. In need of some extra money, he got occasional jobs as a movie extra. This led to a brief encounter with Director John Ford. The pair became friends and, as they say in Hollywood, the rest is history.

Of course, unexpected and sometimes quite remarkable things also happen to ordinary people, like us. During my forty years in Social Work, I have had the privilege of accompanying many people through difficult parts of their life's journey. They’ve entrusted me with intimate aspects of their lives and their hopes and fears. While initially wary, most eventually relax and seem to appreciate the opportunity to tell their story. Perhaps they're reassured by the knowledge that I will respect their confidence and privacy, and they may sense that I'm genuinely interested in what they’re telling me, and that I won’t make moral judgements. I have often been touched and inspired by the care, dedication and resourcefulness of people. There are indeed many unsung heroes.

Of course, our stories usually contain more than mere facts. They're fascinating word pictures that often reveal what kinds of people we really are. Telling our stories can be a way to help us make sense out what we've experienced over the years. I’ve found that as people start to find peace and meaning in their lives, their stories often become more positive and optimistic. I have personally experienced this in telling my story.

I’d been a shy child and as an adult had retained a modest and somewhat reticent demeanour. This was probably why, for many years, I’d been reluctant to tell much of my story to anyone apart from close family members. In my role as a Social Worker, I rarely shared any of my personal story with my clients. After all, I was not being paid to socialise: people had come to talk to me about their needs and problems and not to hear about mine. Maintaining clear professional boundaries was essential if I was to remain objective in assessing my clients' needs and to prevent me from becoming overwhelmed by the distress and deprivation that many clients had to endure. Occasionally, though, I would use some judicious self-disclosure. For example, in exploring mental health issues and treatment, I might sometimes tell clients that I had suffered from anxiety and depression and had really benefitted from having professional help. This strategy aimed to reassure clients that mental illness was a common problem and not something to be ashamed of, and that treatment could really help.

After retirement, I felt more relaxed about telling my story to people who might benefit from this kind of disclosure. So, I signed up as a volunteer with the Black Dog Institute, a national not for profit organisation providing research, clinical and educational services focusing on mood disorders such as Depression and Bi-polar disorder. My role as a volunteer has been to make community presentations informing people about mood disorders and encouraging them to be more supportive of those experiencing those problems. Furthermore, I outline how they or their family and friends can seek professional help if they were experiencing symptoms of a mood disorder. One of the pre-requisites for these volunteer positions was to have had lived experience of a mood disorder. Having suffered significantly from anxiety and depression periodically during my life, I certainly fulfilled this criterion. Because of the pervasive and