The First Man To Cross the Tauranga Harbour Bridge

My Dear Princess and Dear Fellow,

There has long been a story in Caro Family History of the time her dad was the first person to cross the Tauranga Harbour Bridge when it officially opened in 1988.

He used to work for a fruit and veg auction house, you see. And this meant being in the office at sparrow's fart. Consequently, he was there on the morning the bridge opened and was interviewed by local radio. 

Caro always suspected they were annoyed they got a Scotsman and not a Kiwi. 

The tape of his interview was something I didn't even know existed. It sat in Ronnie's Box of Treasures (a very small collection of photos and other trinkets) forgotten for many years. Caro found it tucked away with all of his stuff in the rest home back in August. 

I converted the audio on this tape into an mp3 and sent it to Caro and Fiona. There are actually two interviews with Ronnie on there, sounding somewhat surprised at all the fuss but acknowledging how the new bridge would cut his commute in half. 

"He sounds so young and chirpy!" marvelled Caro. I guess she had got used to her dad stumbling over his words and sounding vague. 

I was pleased. Hearing his voice again did not make her sad; it reminded her of happy times. 

Feefs' reaction was much the same. "Woke up this morning to hear him so chatty and cute was lovely - I LOVE THIS", she commented.

The two interviews were epilogued by something Ronnie must have taped off the radio. Brian Kelly (the local DJ) and "Quiackers" (a duck) announcing birthdays. This included Feefs (she had just turned 10) and a mention that her dad had been on the radio just the week before. 

I can imagine Ronnie cueing up the tape to record Brian Kelly and Quackers to save for posterity on the same tape as his historical bridge crossing interview. 

And then he'd saved it. It must have gone with him when he went to South Africa. And then again when he went to Edinburgh. And it must have been tucked carefully into his suitcase when he moved back to New Zealand. Not very many personal belongings came with him. This little ferric tape was special. 

I wonder if he imagined his daughters listening to it 35 years later with wistful smiles and affection? Was he planning to play it for them one day? 

I guess if he did the intention got lost along the way, as intentions often are.

Anyway. So that was my good deed for the day. I only wish I'd known of this tape when Ronnie was still here to listen to it too.

S.