“Hey Grandad, what’s the story with that old barn?’ You pretty much have the history of most things around Woy Woy.”
“Well now” and the old man took a long pause, rolled his eyes and sought wisdom from the gathering clouds.
“Well now” he repeated and breathed in deeply.
“I’ve put off telling you about this old barn until you were a bit older because it involves our very own ancestors. In fact it’s linked to the name of this city but you need to keep that to yourself.”
The old barn stood resolute against the elements. Age, weather and fires had all threatened its destruction but it remained sphinx like through generations.
“Really!” And the Grandad registered the excitement in his eyes.
“You see son, back in the second half of the nineteenth century there was a bushranger down here called Roy Woy.”
His son’s eyes widened “Roy Woy. I’ve never heard of a bushranger called Roy Woy. Was he related? Crikey!”
“No he wasn’t related but Roy Woy was one very lucky fellow.
“You see Roy Woy was never caught. You see we only ever hear about the bushrangers that got caught and most times ended up on the end of a noose. Not our Roy Woy.
“He was not as infamous as Ben Hall or Ned Kelly. You see not many people know about Roy Woy because it was all kept quiet by the authorities because he never got caught and was a huge embarrassment.
“So if I tell you what happened you can’t go fact checking. You will find nothing on google and you have to swear to only pass the story onto your children.”
“I swear Grandad. I absolutely swear.”
The father lowered his voice very deliberately, gave himself a slight smile and they both stared at the old barn.
‘Ok. You see your great great great grandfather was a top blacksmith and used to work out of that old barn. He was the original horse whisperer and, in fact, many believe his spirit lives on.
“If you look up close you can see a couple of horses in the old barn now, even though all the good eating grass is outside of it.
“In fact, the current owner has to move them out every now and then so they don’t starve. That’s how attached they are to that old barn.’
The son was quite breathless and through squinted eyes “Yeah I can see them but what’s this got to do with Roy Woy?”
The father paused for a smile and a deep breath.
“Yeah hold on there, son. You see Roy Woy and your great great great grandfather were mates at school and mateship is a strong family quality.
“Now, Roy went down the wrong path and ended up a bushranger and caused quite a bit of havoc around here as the colony expanded. The authorities were at their wits end trying to catch him.”
“Anyhow, one misty winter evening Roy Woy came galloping into the old barn on his horse. Sweat was dripping from his brow and he says to your great great great grandfather, ‘Mate! I think I’m done for. They’re after me and with trackers this time. I’m for the noose’.”
Email, Jan 9
John Longhurst