Memories of a Community Cop

By Caroline Lawson

As a boy, Quin Turton's stutter made his life difficult. He avoided situations that required speech, by playing sport especially rugby league. He grew up in Huntly, New Zealand, where local men and boys were passionate about the game. His participation made him very fit and gave him valuable experience of good teamwork. Quin left school as soon as he could and found work as an apprentice builder. His carpentry skills held him in good stead but he didn't earn enough to achieve his dream of building his own house, so Quin took on a higher paid factory job that he hated. Quin's wife encouraged him to become a policeman. This book tells about Quin's time at Police College, his first city posting in Auckland where he had to face some terrifying scenes and his move to the coastal area of Tauranga. At first, station politics caused him problems and his wife and their children were cramped in a little cottage. Fortunately, the situation improved when they moved to the suburbs and met up with Quin's long-time friend, Sergeant George Long. When George made a move to Kawakawa in the north of New Zealand, Quin was able to follow. At first Quin found the area dismal and depressing but he and his family soon settled in and came to love the district and its people. There was usually a group of three policmen at the Kawakawa station. They were responsible for keeping law and order in the large Northland farming and coastal area - not a nine to five job! Quin became involved in local activities and met both lawbreakers and some of the area's characters. He fostered a love of sport in young people and encouraged them to participate in a range of sporting opportunities. However, Northland soon found out that Quin wasn't always a calm or virtuous cop. The people living in the area grew to appreciate him for being fair and hard working, although some were scared of him and a few disliked him Why? Readers will find answers, learn how Quin's wife and family coped with rural life and how Quin managed to enjoy a long career with the New Zealand police force and live in Kawakawa for the rest of his life.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Caroline Lawson
• Release date: Jan 6, 2020
• ISBN: 9780463507865

Caroline Lawson

After an interesting and varied working life, I took on a task in retirement, recording memories or whatever the people wanted to be left behind, for those connected to our local Hospice. Each task was a privilege. I learnt about country New Zealand, many years ago. One time the person facing a premature death was quite young and just wanted letters written for each of her children to receive when they turned 21. That was sad. One person I really enjoyed was Quin Turton. He had been a country cop in New Zealand and had many funny, sometimes sad, sometimes tragic experiences, to document. He was facing the end of his life and agreed I could share his memories with other people. Hence I wrote "Memories of a Community Cop". Through this writing journey, I have met many interesting people and continue to enjoy the writers of all genres who gather to critique, discuss or encourage local authors.

Book preview

1

What Is His Name?

Being born ‘en caul’ is so special that only one in 80,000 births occur this way. It means that the baby slides into the world still encased in the amniotic membrane, which is then gently peeled off. These special ‘en caul’ babies are thought to be very lucky in life and have a close bond to water. Quin’s mother Jane believed he was special from his unusual birth on 15th October 1934. He certainly developed a great love for the waterways, and he was ‘lucky’ to have an exciting career.

Arthur Turton, the proud Dad, was a quiet, shy man, but he usually managed to get his own way. The parents discussed and decided on the name for this special child—Quinlan Arthur Turton; Quinlan being the name of Jane’s favourite brother.

Arthur was tasked as usual with registering the birth, and set off on his bicycle for a journey of about four miles to the Huntly Post Office. His bike riding was always precarious, especially on the rough metal road, but somehow he went just fast enough to keep the bike upright. The trip gave Arthur some time to think about the name that had been decided upon. This was his fourth son and not one had been named after him. There had been Jack and Allan, both of whom were already deceased, then Raymond aged eighteen months and now the new baby was to be called Quinlan Arthur.

On the way to the Post Office, he went past the Huntly Hotel where he worked as a casual barman and had several good friends there. Naturally he went in to wet the baby’s head. Afterwards he wobbled off on his bike and registered the baby, not as Quinlan Arthur Turton as agreed, but—Arthur—Quinlan—Turton. He never said a word to his wife or anyone about what he had done.

Five years passed before any other children were born. The first was another boy and Jane decided it was about time a child was named after their Dad Arthur. So, son number five was to be called Arthur Maurice.

Once again Arthur senior registered the birth but still didn’t mention the first Arthur junior. Luckily Arthur Maurice was called Tup for all his life, and Arthur Quinlan was naturally called Quin, because everyone thought that was his name. Their next child was a girl, Jane Mary and lastly a boy Patrick McGill.

It wasn’t until Quin was aged 15 and needed a birth certificate to apply for a building apprenticeship that all was revealed, and everyone learnt his correct name.

Unfortunately, the wee boy had one tough problem from the beginning. He had a bad stutter he could not control and no amount of help from those near him worked either. Trying to communicate and be part of the world around him was agony.

Academics currently do not know what causes stuttering. However, it does not indicate any differences as far as intelligence is concerned.

His constant stutter in no way detracted from his happy time at home. The house was always filled with his own family and often with lots of noisy cousins from his mother’s twelve brothers and sisters. He was surrounded by love, fun and family, while he battled to get his words out and become part of it all. It made little difference to anyone at home, but it did have a major impact on his school days.

When he turned five, Quin started going to St Anthony’s Convent at the southern end of Huntly on the Great South Road. The unsealed road had no footpath and the little boy rode his bike from the far north of the township, right through to the other end. He had to share the rough road, which doubled as the notoriously dangerous State Highway 1, with cars and trucks travelling at high speed.

Huntly was a small town built on the side of the Waikato River with an impressive bridge reaching across the expanse of fast-flowing water to the rolling farmland on the other side.

At that time, the township bustled with young families. The country folk came into town to shop and there were dusty workers from the coal mines and brickworks.

The first few years of school mainly involved reading out loud or learning and saying times tables by rote. Quin could not manage either and the teachers took out their annoyance by giving him the strap. In their view, he could not read, could not spell, did not know any times tables, and therefore, was a hopeless pupil. Through their own ignorance, the people who were supposed to offer him encouragement and nurturing turned into bullies. Their treatment did not help him learn anything, apart from the misery of school life.

There were two nice parts of each day though: homelife with his family, and sport. Quin and best mate, brother Ray, were keen on all outdoor activities and excelled at most of them. Like the Turton forebears in the coal mining area of Greater Manchester, sport provided an outlet for his frustrations. The brickworks and coal mines of the English Lancashire area had produced a strong following of rugby league enthusiasts and the bleak mining area of Huntly also gave rise to many stunning rugby league players. Rugby league was and still is, the sport of Huntly.

For Standards Five and Six, Quin changed to the Marist Brothers School in Hamilton East. It meant a long day bussing in and out. Often there were sports practices or matches as well, which made the days even longer. Ray and Quin were both in the same rugby teams, league teams, and enjoyed tennis and boxing together too. The sport was much more important to both boys than the academic side of their schooling. They were lucky to have a partner close at hand to practise with. It became a large part of their lives and gave them enjoyment and fitness.

Two brothers In The Same Team

Quin continued to lack any enthusiasm for the classroom, which he always felt was a result of his dreadful speech impediment. He could not achieve anything the teachers expected of him.

He began his final year at Huntly’s District High School and, as soon as he turned fifteen, he left.

He was offered a building apprenticeship with a nice man called Wally Debenham. Now he could learn a skill without having it beaten into him. The five years of his apprenticeship passed quickly. According to Wally's niece,

Wally was a most conscientious builder and highly regarded in Huntly, so Quin was fortunate to have this opportunity. Now he could learn a skill without having it beaten into him and the five years passed quickly.

Freed from the schoolroom, Quin thrived in his new life. Sport continued to be important—to be fitted in around his apprenticeship, and a social life was also developing. Ray was training to be a plumber and sometimes they met up on the same job.

The Turtons’ small home in Hakanoa Street was constantly full to overflowing with young people. A girl called Jennifer spent more time living with this generous family than with her own. She brought a female approach into the mainly male group. They loved having her there, with her wit, her lively piano playing and full-on approach to life. After a few drinks at the Working Men’s Club, if there was nothing else happening, the guys who knocked around together would go down to the Turtons, for an entrance fee of half a dozen beers.

These were such happy days filled with music. Either mother Jane, or Jennifer, would be on the piano, Ray played the violin and Quin liked to sing.

Ray was always asked to play his violin because his singing voice was so bad, said Quin. We called him Adenoids.

For all his life Quin enjoyed listening to anything from serious classical right through to the popular music of the day.

Once he was working, Quin started drinking socially with his mates. He felt alcohol boosted his outgoing personality and it was simply the lifestyle of the teenagers. Work hard, play sport hard, drink hard. This was the lifestyle of young men in the 40’s and 50’s.

Quin himself admitted, Of course in those days I was a typical young guy—having too much fun and drinking too much.

One of the boys’ favourite hangouts was the old cricket hall where the entertainment had to be provided by whoever was there. If you were asked to get up and sing, you just had to do it. Quin’s voice was clear and strong and as the stutter was not part of it, he could relax and enjoy himself. Life was good. The teenagers all had jobs, money, friends and plenty of sport.

Ray and I saw something was missing in our lives—girls. Jennifer was interesting to have around the place, but she was one of the mates. But girls were different, Quin