Heavenly Beverley : New Connections Or How I Became A "Humans Of The Wheatbelt" Interviewer

Friday was one of those Red Letter Days. Busy and engaging without being frantic or frazzling. And, unusually for a Friday, I spent very little time in the East End Gallery. Michael took command as Front-of-House and succeeded at this task admirably.

Way back in early June, Michael was interviewed by Ms Anna Cornish for the "Humans of the Wheatbelt" project, an initiative created by the Wheatbelt Health Network. Inspired by "Humans of New York" and park of the Linkability programme, participants could be either subjects or interviewers, with a physical, emotional or other disability and identifying the Wheatbelt as home. As I watched Anna interview Michael, I was entranced. This was certainly a bandwagon I wanted to jump into, with gusto.

Since then, I have tried to regularly post others' stories. These tales are often hilarious, rivetting, unexpected and occasionally heart-breaking. However, courage and hope for the future are the powerful and underlying themes of all the interviews. Holy cow!

A couple of weeks ago, Anna arranged to come and interview me. Then she sprang a clanger on me as well - she suggested that I come with her to the Voice of the Avon radio station in York and carry out my first (coached) interview with a chap named Keith Taylor.

My mental health status certainly ticked the boxes for this enterprise. But I was still nervous. I had some ideas of the standard questions and I would have Anna there to bail me out if I made a complete idiot of myself. But I had never met Keith, although his partner Rhonda had been a guest in the East End Gallery and I recognised her surname on her Voice of the Avon card.

This community radio station was housed in a dinky bright blue, somewhat rustic and slightly shabby cottage opposite York District High School. I felt at home immediately. Pippa, Schnauzer About Town and station security was introduced. Keith was about to finish his stint as presenter and Rhonda was buzzing around, smoothly easing the transition from one announcer to the next.

And then I met Keith properly. Anna began the process, but I quickly found my confidence and elbowed her out of the way, literally and figuratively. And I was spellbound.

Keith, a fit and sharp eighty-two years of age, was "living in sin" with Rhonda, in a house they had built together in Beverley. They had staged a staggered move away from the Big Smoke, with Rhonda making the move to Heavenly Beverley a year or so before Keith was able to join her.

"Home is where the heart is" was Keith's response to my first question. His heart seemed pretty happy to live in Beverley and volunteer at the Voice of the Avon just up the road in York. As he plunged into his life story, I was able to travel the road with him. Any hesitancy on my part vanished as he spoke and we listened.

Keith regaled us with his travels all over Australia. He'd worked in radio from young adulthood, famously asking for a pay rise at 6KY because he considered himself indispensable. He learnt rapidly the foolishness of that caper when he was shown the door, losing his job and his salary in an instant.

Radio, for Keith, was his joy and his calling. He'd also worked in television, but found the restrictions of that medium to not be to his taste. He took us on a journey through the Tasmanian fires in 1961 and the disappearance of Harold Holt in 1967, both of which he considered to be his most intense memories. These were only two snippets in his repertoire, stories tumbling out of him like the river rapids of the Avon Descent.

With his mellow voice and easy-going demeanour, Keith had long recognised that he was also in a position of great trust with his audience. He described the story of a widow contacting him, thanking him for giving her an outlet from her all-encompassing grief whilst she came to terms with the sudden death of her husband. Wow. Just wow.

I chatted with Rhonda about the Gallery. We hope to collaborate on stories of our artists. The majority of them are already "Humans of the Wheatbelt" and I am excited about this new direction.

And in spite of my concerns about listening, rather than talking, I needn't have worried. Keith's life rolled out before me in a fascinating and affectionate cascade which more than held me in awe.

Released into the sunshine, Anna and I had lunch at Jules Cafe, whilst she set up an interview with the original Jules, still working in her eating establishment after forty years. That will be another great story to read.

And with my new status as "Humans of the Wheatbelt" official interviewer, I already think I have a few fabulous characters up my sleeve.