Introduction to Peter Leyland's first book — 'Roaming Around In My Mind'.
My uncle, Peter Leyland, at 100 years of age, exhibits an undiminished and outstanding skill for hijacking passing comments and weaving them into the fabric of his memories.
An 'off the cuff' remark about walking sticks gets converted into a homily on the racial origin of his father’s outspokenness. (Story 53).
An enquiry about a Manawatu farming district explodes into a cautionary tale about the perils of gelignite. (Story 40).
Peter explained it all to me. ‘I’m good at talking. Some would say I’m a bit of a windbag. I’ve even been called ‘a chatterbox’. People have said to me, ‘Peter, you should write your stories down.’ But it’s a bit late for that, and I’m not much good at writing.’
With the characteristic rashness and ignorance of youth, (I was a mere 72 at the time), I blurted out, ‘I could take a few notes, and write your stories down for you.’
‘Good boy. That would be great!’
STYLE AND LAYOUT
These stories are presented as conversations, because that’s how they occurred. They were ‘harvested’ over a period of a few months in 2011, during the phone calls I made to Peter, who was then living in Levin, and myself in Titirangi, Auckland.
I made notes while we talked, then wrote up our exchanges as soon as our conversations ended. I've tried to be as true to Peter’s words and style as my hastily scribbled notes and memory permit. There are doubtless a few minor mistakes or misunderstandings, as in story 5, when my ears and knowledge both let me down.
Our conversations sometimes lasted over an hour, with one topic leading into another, then another, then another and then another! On a good day I netted several stories. Good fishing, Huh?
If Peter’s comments related to a story I had already written up, I took the liberty of including them back where they most properly belonged. This happened frequently, particularly when Peter announced, ‘I’ve been roaming around in my mind’ or ‘an ancient memory occurred to me’.
In addition, I had notes from earlier conversations going back as far as 1978, and sometimes these became spring-boards from which to revisit earlier topics. In almost every case Peter’s retelling matched the originals, but often with extra slants, comments, or interesting discursions.
My questions or comments to Peter are in bold text. Peter’s words are written in plain text. The story titles are my inventions. The book title, ‘Roaming Around In My Mind’, is Peter’s.
The conversations were originally harvested 'willy nilly'. I have rearranged them in ‘decade by decade’ groupings, but the final sequence of the stories can't be exact because some refer to more than one period. But I feel that the overall result of my reorganising tne sequence provides a deeper insight into the unfolding life and times of Peter Leyland and New Zealand.
The images, unless they are an integral part of a story, were added for the sake of entertainment, enlightenment, or economy (to make full use of available paper. Peter, being a 'frugal' who was raised during desperate and uncertain times was a great believer in the adage, ‘waste not, want not’). I've sometimes added explanatory notes or private thoughts after a story or image.
The original intention was to print a few of Peter’s stories for our family. After collecting 58 conversations I realized that Peter’s anecdotes, opinions and energetic tellings were unstoppable and the project was becoming larger by the day. I decided to pause, check my written records with him, and ensure he was comfortable with the results so far. I printed and bound a draft copy of 35 stories, included some images, photos, and newspaper clippings, and took them to Levin. Peter was delighted to see his words in print. Suddenly there was talk of ‘THE BOOK’.
‘It’s what really happened,’ he said. ‘It’s all true. Now, listen boy, that’s okay as far as it goes. You need to add …’
I visited Palmerston North City Library to check some of my facts, and met Robin Wilson, an archivist who knew Peter well. We discussed what Peter and I were doing and I returned to Levin to update the storyteller.
‘Peter,’ I said. ‘The Library wants your book. It seems you’re a bit of a Library legend.’
‘Well, the authorities gave me a gold card for being the longest continuous member of the library — 90 or 95 years or some such. I suppose my memories may provide some amusement. Of course, it’s all history — not just history of our family but also our district — our people — our times. Can you organise a copy or two for them? I know nothing about that side of things.’
‘Are you comfortable with making everything public?’
‘If they want the stories published, well, there’s no harm in it. Some stories might be blunt — but I tell it like it was!’
‘Peter, they even mentioned the possibility of a ‘book-launch’, They might put on a cup of tea and cakes — that sort of thing.’
‘Tea and cakes? We could hardly say ‘no’, could we?’
Peter’s subsequent conversations were often prefaced with, ‘Hello, boy, how’s the book coming along?’
By John David Leyland
Introduction to the second collection.
For a more detailed explanation of the process of collecting oral history.
An 'off the cuff' remark about walking sticks gets converted into a homily on the racial origin of his father’s outspokenness. (Story 53).
An enquiry about a Manawatu farming district explodes into a cautionary tale about the perils of gelignite. (Story 40).
Peter explained it all to me. ‘I’m good at talking. Some would say I’m a bit of a windbag. I’ve even been called ‘a chatterbox’. People have said to me, ‘Peter, you should write your stories down.’ But it’s a bit late for that, and I’m not much good at writing.’
With the characteristic rashness and ignorance of youth, (I was a mere 72 at the time), I blurted out, ‘I could take a few notes, and write your stories down for you.’
‘Good boy. That would be great!’
STYLE AND LAYOUT
These stories are presented as conversations, because that’s how they occurred. They were ‘harvested’ over a period of a few months in 2011, during the phone calls I made to Peter, who was then living in Levin, and myself in Titirangi, Auckland.
I made notes while we talked, then wrote up our exchanges as soon as our conversations ended. I've tried to be as true to Peter’s words and style as my hastily scribbled notes and memory permit. There are doubtless a few minor mistakes or misunderstandings, as in story 5, when my ears and knowledge both let me down.
Our conversations sometimes lasted over an hour, with one topic leading into another, then another, then another and then another! On a good day I netted several stories. Good fishing, Huh?
If Peter’s comments related to a story I had already written up, I took the liberty of including them back where they most properly belonged. This happened frequently, particularly when Peter announced, ‘I’ve been roaming around in my mind’ or ‘an ancient memory occurred to me’.
In addition, I had notes from earlier conversations going back as far as 1978, and sometimes these became spring-boards from which to revisit earlier topics. In almost every case Peter’s retelling matched the originals, but often with extra slants, comments, or interesting discursions.
My questions or comments to Peter are in bold text. Peter’s words are written in plain text. The story titles are my inventions. The book title, ‘Roaming Around In My Mind’, is Peter’s.
The conversations were originally harvested 'willy nilly'. I have rearranged them in ‘decade by decade’ groupings, but the final sequence of the stories can't be exact because some refer to more than one period. But I feel that the overall result of my reorganising tne sequence provides a deeper insight into the unfolding life and times of Peter Leyland and New Zealand.
The images, unless they are an integral part of a story, were added for the sake of entertainment, enlightenment, or economy (to make full use of available paper. Peter, being a 'frugal' who was raised during desperate and uncertain times was a great believer in the adage, ‘waste not, want not’). I've sometimes added explanatory notes or private thoughts after a story or image.
The original intention was to print a few of Peter’s stories for our family. After collecting 58 conversations I realized that Peter’s anecdotes, opinions and energetic tellings were unstoppable and the project was becoming larger by the day. I decided to pause, check my written records with him, and ensure he was comfortable with the results so far. I printed and bound a draft copy of 35 stories, included some images, photos, and newspaper clippings, and took them to Levin. Peter was delighted to see his words in print. Suddenly there was talk of ‘THE BOOK’.
‘It’s what really happened,’ he said. ‘It’s all true. Now, listen boy, that’s okay as far as it goes. You need to add …’
I visited Palmerston North City Library to check some of my facts, and met Robin Wilson, an archivist who knew Peter well. We discussed what Peter and I were doing and I returned to Levin to update the storyteller.
‘Peter,’ I said. ‘The Library wants your book. It seems you’re a bit of a Library legend.’
‘Well, the authorities gave me a gold card for being the longest continuous member of the library — 90 or 95 years or some such. I suppose my memories may provide some amusement. Of course, it’s all history — not just history of our family but also our district — our people — our times. Can you organise a copy or two for them? I know nothing about that side of things.’
‘Are you comfortable with making everything public?’
‘If they want the stories published, well, there’s no harm in it. Some stories might be blunt — but I tell it like it was!’
‘Peter, they even mentioned the possibility of a ‘book-launch’, They might put on a cup of tea and cakes — that sort of thing.’
‘Tea and cakes? We could hardly say ‘no’, could we?’
Peter’s subsequent conversations were often prefaced with, ‘Hello, boy, how’s the book coming along?’
By John David Leyland
Introduction to the second collection.
For a more detailed explanation of the process of collecting oral history.