This is Bill Tucker, or Young Bill as he was once known – which sounds strange considering he turns 91 this year.

Bill lost his father when he was 7, a week before the Hawke’s Bay earthquake. Two monumental traumas in a space of days. “Traumas” is a word I’d use, Bill’s expression would be something like “That’s how it was”. Bill had 3 older siblings and lived with his mother and Auntie. He was schooled in Hastings and Napier.

His childhood memories are rich with appreciation for a life that was tough and yet fondly remembered. He recalls never having much but never feeling he was without.

“We had to make do, whereas today it is provided”

He made cricket gear out of bits of timber and an old apple case for a set of wickets. He climbed trees. He stole apples. They kept chickens and grew their own veg on big quarter acre sections. They played at home, outside mostly. He inherited toys and knew how to look after them for the generations to come. Everyone’s house was on quarter acre sections. Having space seemed important. Everyone walked everywhere. He walked to school, walked home to have lunch and walked back again.

Did he miss his father? “Subconsciously, yes” is his considered reply. He then went on to explain that he utilised his “cobber’s” fathers for all the male stuff he needed. There was a community of men to be relied upon and most of his teachers were male too.

When he was 10 he inherited his father’s old bike – or at least the parts of it that remained. He “scrounged” and earned the pennies needed to buy inner tubes, paint and the like. By the time he was 11 he was one of 3 boys he knew that owned a bike.

“I felt important”.

He ran errands on it and got to know the pathways and roads where he lived. All on his father’s old bike that he worked so hard on. I’d feel important too if that were me, but most bikes these days come new, ready to go.

At 18 he did military service. At 21 he saw active service. Like many of our grandfathers this man went to war and risked his life. His response to this was typically matter-of-fact.

“We accepted that this is what you do”.
“War was war, the chance of getting shot or killed was fairly likely”.

The discipline that was a key part of his childhood helped him prepare for these tough years.

“You don’t question your seniors”.
“The training we got was practical. We do it. You don’t question. If someone says you jump over the ditch and shoot at Germans you just do it”

I’m not sure if I have that kind of courage in me. Bill was married twice, his second wife has now passed on. He has a son and a daughter. He is incredibly independent and sharp of wit and mind.

I asked him what advice he would give to the young men coming through these days.
He recommends being part of something, finding something that you enjoy doing and concentrating on it. For me, though, the pearl of wisdom that resonates the most is his thought on generosity of spirit.

“To get something you’ve got to give something. It doesn’t have to be 50-50”

Thanks Young Bill.