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-- The Duncan Story --

Every time I think, or open my mouth to speak, I could repeat forms of that short prayer. Those of us who believe that there is one true, living God; we pray like that. Why? Why do I pray? I hope that The Duncan Story will answer that question for you and me.

Knowing that I had nothing whatever to do with my conception, precious little to do with either my privileged upbringing or my wife’s very providential choice of marriage partner, and being only too aware (as you will find out) that I have nothing that I can brag about in my working life, I am very surprised that my story is of any interest to anyone.

Some very brief background first. I was the fifth of six children born of wealthy parents at Bellevue Hill in Sydney, Australia. The wealth had come from my dad’s widowed mother (whose husband died aged 27) and who herself suddenly died in her sixties leaving a thriving retail business in Sydney - which she alone had built. Her three adult children, who were not interested in the business, and who hadn’t done a day’s work in their lives, took about twenty years to spend it all but, there was enough there to give her six grandchildren a very privileged upbringing.

In the year of my birth [1937] Dad purchased a rural property and three years later the family moved from the luxury of Bellevue Hill into an old weatherboard house twenty kilometres south of Oberon in New South Wales. Primary school for me was a remote one-teacher school three kilometres from our home and my secondary schooling was at Cranbrook School in Sydney where I boarded for six years. Mine was a privileged childhood and adolescence; at the end of which I was carefree, and a very proud young man. And I was going places.

Everything about my family life has been marvellous. I have always been cared for by a good woman, with my wife seamlessly taking over from my mother in 1959. My wife Helen has always been everybody’s favourite person and when the going got tough, it was she who kept it all together, certainly not me. We had two children in quick succession and a third after a nine year gap. Our three children came through the hazards of youth unharmed and eager to marry; all three married young; all three have good and sensible spouses; they each have at least three children, and all of us have enjoyed continuous very good health. We have been brought this far, and for some unmerited reason we have been spared the many pains and sufferings, the many broken hearts and broken homes that are all around us, wherever we look, there are lives in a terrible mess; We have even been spared the very mixed blessing of caring for our own aged loved ones, with all four of our parents dieing much too young.

In fact, the only not-so-good news was my working life. Like my dad before me, I had no ambition, no business acumen and no competitive will. No particular vocation appealed to me then and that is still the case.

I genuinely believed that something would crop up sooner or later because the world owed me a living didn’t it? But the world did not recognise me. Being aimless and without purpose, I gradually became bewildered and disillusioned, and disappointed. In the first 21 years of my working life I had fourteen different employers, so we moved many times as a family and each move was made on a casual whim and was given no forethought by me.

The last half of my working life was more settled, having one home, in Sydney, and only one employer, the Australian Broadcasting Corporation. I started in the ABC mailroom in Sydney in August 1975 (at age 38 and at an all-time low) and I remained, for 23 years, in the ABC mailroom in Sydney – to retirement. Over the 44 years of working life the very proud young man gradually came to believe that he was going nowhere; that he was an inadequate breadwinner, and for men of my generation, it was important to be seen to be a good breadwinner. Others tried to convince me that I had been under utilized. But why? Why would an employer under utilise anyone? Without ever being unemployed, in my mind at that time, I believed that I had either under performed or that I was under equipped.

Making it worse, I was constantly embarrassed when asked what I did. As you all know the normal conversation starter between men usually goes like this, “What do you do?” “Oh, I work with the ABC.” “Oh, that’s interesting, what do you do at the ABC.” “Oh, I run the mailroom.” “Oh, do you, that’s interesting. Waiter!!”

A lot of men of my generation suffer in this way, in this mad culture of ours, but with my start in life; my parents had given me every chance, I had matriculated and gained every opportunity from attending one of the best private schools in Australia, I made friends easily, I didn’t have any drinking, gambling or women problems, and I was lovingly cared for. With a start like that, it was disappointing. It was very disappointing, for that very proud young man.

But now, with my working life nearly six beautiful years behind me, I can clearly see that those 44 work years of increasing embarrassment were necessary, for the very proud young man because, quite near to the lowest point; at a point when I felt anything but a very proud young man, I was lifted up by two very special men. The first man had an enormous, ongoing impact on my life, and the second brought about a complete change.

At home we have a cupboard full of my silly little poems and songs. In February 1981, one of those silly little songs was the nation’s number one selling single for two weeks.

The song is ‘Duncan’; I’d love to have a beer with Duncan, ‘cause Duncan’s me mate. With enormous assistance from Slim Dusty, that little song Duncan has established a place for itself in our Australian culture, music and lyrics by Pat Alexander.

Five years earlier, the song had come straight out of an experience. At that time I was trying to sell life insurance and the only good thing that came out of those two horrible years with AMP and CML, was Duncan.

One day I was knocking on factory office doors in Sydney’s Southern suburbs and this fellow who owned a heat-treatment factory invited me in – his name was Duncan Urquhart - he was civil enough to me and suggested that we might talk about my product in the pub around the corner. That pub was the Town & Country Hotel at St. Peters – it is still there - you can see it from the train.

I went back to see Duncan Urguhart three times before I realised that he had no intention of buying any of my life insurance. He just enjoyed the yarn.

I dumped him of course and didn’t give him another thought for 5 years but, it was while driving home from the last of those very enjoyable elbow-bending sessions that the main verse (music & lyrics) came into being. “I love to have a beer with Duncan, I love to have a beer with Dunc. We drink in moderation, and we never, never ever get rolling drunk. We drink at the Town and Country where the atmosphere is great. I love to have a beer with Duncan ‘cause Duncan’s me mate.” I jotted down those words, memorised the tune and tossed it in the cupboard.

Nearly five years later, in June 1980, Bob Hawke made his move to become Prime Minister and prompted by this, I sent a tape to ABC TV and they sent a film crew across to the mailroom and filmed me singing The Bob Hawke Song. It went on ABC National Television as a novelty current affairs item on This Week (when the anchor man was a very young Kel Richards) and this got me going. I arranged with EMI to do 200 custom pressings of me singing The Bob Hawke Song with a few workmates, and I put Duncan on the other side.

I sent it to every radio station in Sydney and 2KY was the only one to play it. It was Malcolm T Elliot who first played Duncan (my version) in his morning show and his listeners showed enough interest for him to find me and interview me on air. After hearing the story Malcolm decided to find this fellow so he sent out regular calls for someone to find Duncan Urquhart and solve the mystery of his whereabouts. Duncan happened to hear one of these calls himself, and as he said, he very nearly drove off the side of the Gladesville Bridge in shock. He phoned in and we had a lot of fun for some weeks on little old 2KY.

I got home one Saturday afternoon in October 1980 to the stunning news that Slim Dusty had rung. “He wants you to ring him back dad!” I had sent one of my discs to Slim Dusty’s post office box address in Parramatta where they used to receive so much rubbish from hopeful songwriters like me, but his wife Joy McKean happened to play it, and she like it. She asked Slim to listen and he didn’t like it at first but she made him listen again; as every good woman should.

Fortunately, they were recording at EMI in Sydney at the time, so on Monday morning they took it in and knocked up some chord charts for the band. The second take was pressed by EMI as a double sided single with Duncan on both sides, and Radio 2UE listeners heard John Laws play it eleven times on the first morning. It put Slim Dusty on Countdown for several weeks in early 1981, and it put me into songwriters’ heaven.

[Ironically, one year after the song hit the top, Duncan Urquhart died suddenly of a heart attack leaving a wife and two teenage kids. I do not know whether or not his life was insured.

Duncan is thought by everyone to be a Country song, but that is because Slim Dusty sang it. It is a ditty – a very simple ditty that mysteriously captures the character of Australian mateship. Slim Dusty is a monument in our culture, up there with Lawson and Patterson before he died. Henry Lawson, Banjo Patterson and Slim Dusty; he belongs there with them and what Slim Dusty did for Duncan is beyond measure.

We have had so much enjoyment from that song, but do you know? The most amazing thing about it is the reaction we get when people find out that I wrote it. From the very beginning almost everyone has just assumed that Slim wrote it. In the very early days my kids would come home very upset when their school mates wouldn’t believe that their dad wrote Duncan. “Yes! And my dad wrote Puff the Magic Dragon.” In fairness to Slim he was in no way responsible for this; in fact he attempted early on to distance himself from Duncan because it was not his kind of song and, because of that, he didn’t really want it to become his signature song.

And the more involved people are in the music industry, the more animated is their reaction. I met The Wiggles (soon after they had recorded ‘I’d Love To Have a Dance With Dorothy) when they toured Wagga Wagga in 2001, and they were thrilled to meet me. They know: all people in the business know only too well just how many original songs there are that never get recorded, let alone released, let alone get on the charts, let alone get into the top ten, let alone get to number one!

People often say to me when they find out that I wrote it, “Oh, you wrote the lyrics did you?” Or “You wrote the tune did you?” And when I say “No, I wrote the music and lyrics” they quiz me, as if I’m having them on, “You wrote the lot?” I love it when people shake their head and say “I don’t believe it”.

It remains as much of a thrill for me now, as it did in Tamworth in January 1981, when Duncan was screaming up the charts. You see, Tamworth songs, don’t as a rule scream up the charts. My family and friends have enjoyed the fun of it all with me, but, for me personally, the Duncan experience was and is, tremendous. Duncan (the first of the two men) was, and remains, a wonderful gift to me personally.

Great gift though Duncan is, it doesn’t come within a bull’s roar of the other wonderful gift that came my way; just three years later, in 1984 in fact; you know, the Orwellian Big Brother year, remember 1984?

I am very grateful for the 10 year-old girl who in 1971 asked me, “Dad, can we go to church to thank God for our little baby sister?” I am also very grateful for the many folk, and one man in particular, who stuck to me for twelve long years after that; I am very grateful that they put up with my rudeness and continued to invite me to men’s breakfasts.

Don’t ever give up on that person who will not come to these functions; even when they tell you to go to hell. Don’t give up on him please. I am grateful now for those twelve years of reluctant church attendance (dutifully taking my children to Sunday school) because while I was waiting to take them home, I learned a lot about Jesus. I am very grateful for the excellent bible teaching I received during that time, and since, but most of all, I am grateful for the conversion.

Mine was the perfect conversion. It was perfect for two reasons; One, because it came at the perfect time for the very proud young man and two, because it brought him to the feet of the one, true, living God. This is my very personal experience but like my conception, I had nothing whatever to do with it; I actually fought against it. My conversion was not a religious experience; I’m not sure what we mean by that expression but for me, it was over in an instant.

It happened in the middle of a sermon. Through no will or decision of my own, it happened with the reading of a bible verse and Jesus’ words go like this, “I tell you the truth, whoever hears my word and believes in him who sent me, has eternal life, and will not be condemned; he has already crossed over from death to life.” The information came from the man giving the sermon but the awareness didn’t.

In that brief moment Jesus told me everything I ever did. In my mind, I crashed to my knees, convicted by the numbing knowledge, that I had killed a man – that my sin had killed Jesus. At that moment something brought about a complete change in my attitude to everything. Sure, old human habits do die hard but, at that moment my world view turned, it turned completely up-side-down. Hitherto, the big, wide and wonderful world had encouraged me to believe that I was self-sufficient. It was the churched people who were to be pitied, with all their DEPRESSING talk of sin. The very proud young man scoffed at the notion that he was sinful, but here he was, suddenly aware that the opposite was true, that he was sin-full; full of sin.

Leading up to my conversion I firmly believed that I was a Christian - by association - or by degree - or by descent; “we’re all Christians” I thought, but while going through those Christian motions, I had had my back turned to Jesus. I thought that I knew him but I didn’t know him. I knew of him, but I didn’t know him. Quite clearly inside our churches we have bishops and all sorts of others to whom Jesus will surely say... “I never knew you”.

Not because they are sinners! No! We are all sinners! He will instead, say it to them because they never knew Him – and they will understand perfectly – they won’t feel cheated. What a terrible shock that will be to have Jesus tell you... “I never knew you”.

What was it then that made me acknowledge my sin? It was, the bible’s consistent account, Sunday after every Sunday, of the absolute perfection of Jesus. You think you’re good? Look full in the face of Jesus and see how you feel. You think you’re good enough? Look full in his face.

With this perfect man looking at me (as he had looked at Peter), and to know what he went through to rescue me (the tremendous tragedy of the cross), and that he had unconditionally forgiven me and set me free from slavery to my sin, I crashed to my knees in submission.

Up to that moment I was dead. I was spiritually dead. Think of this. You are watching a small boat drifting towards the Horseshoe Falls at Niagara. You notice that there is a very proud young man asleep in that boat. You cannot tell if he is alive or dead from where you are, but it doesn’t really matter does it? He is as good as dead? He is doomed, unless he is rescued by a helicopter.

I was asleep in that boat, I was spiritually dead. When I was asleep (or spiritually dead) what I saw and heard were dreams, not reality.

I came alive (at that moment of conversion) to live beyond mortal death - forever – in paradise with him. In a very real sense I am there with him now. Or, he is here with me now – it is the same thing. I believe that. Like the man who was born blind and healed by Jesus, an adult convert like me can truthfully say… “One thing I do know: that though I was blind, now I see”.

Awakenings are not peculiar to Christianity, we know that, but, the only awakening of any significance is the awakening made possible by Jesus. True reality was switched on; not by me, but for me. Suddenly going to heaven wasn’t just possible, it was guaranteed. Sealed and guaranteed by Jesus, a thoroughly trustworthy person. From that moment on, the bible came alive for me and it began to make living sense, and so, from that same moment, I began to believe what the bible taught. A certainty was suddenly in place that the truth is between the covers of that book. Not a subjective dream but the absolute, real reality.

But what about the hardened atheists, the agnostics, and all the millions of others who don’t believe in Jesus – most of them good people? The only way that people like Phillip Adams [do you know our Phillip Adams; ABC Radio National journalist; incredible intellect and very gifted]. The only way that a person like Phillip Adams, or anyone else, can pass from death to life is to accept the same gift. There are people who say (and Phillip Adams is one of them) that Christianity excludes people. The free gift I received is offered to everyone – to every nation – to every religion and denomination – to every racial and ethnic group – every tribe – to every man, woman and child on this planet. We are all free to accept the gift.

And we are all free to reject it, and if we do, we exclude ourselves. Jesus doesn’t exclude anyone – we exclude ourselves.

It is sadly true that very proud young people foolishly put their trust either in themselves, in brilliant minds like Phillip Adams, or even in the minds of dangerous crackpots but whom then, who is trustworthy? Who can we trust? Are our news editors trustworthy? Our children’s teachers? Our political leaders? Wouldn’t you like to completely trust our community standards? Who can we trust? Who is truly trustworthy; for God’s sake?

Jesus. That man who confronted me in 1984, the second of the 2 men, is perfectly consistent with being worthy of our trust. Truthful and trustworthy. You check him out.

If you (and you are now the very proud young man – probably asleep in the boat), if you are looking for someone who is perfectly honest; if you are looking for some consistency in this life [and surely you are], check him out in the four gospel accounts. If you do that, you will discover, that He is consistent with being perfectly right, he is consistent with being perfectly just, he is consistent with being perfectly good; he is the perfect king, he is the perfect priest, he is the perfect teacher. He is the fulfilment of all God’s promises. You can trust such a person.

For me, he is the food that I eat, he is the water I drink, he is the water I wash with, he is the way I go, he is the light I see by, he is the path I follow, he is the lamp for my feet, he is the truth I live by, he is the life I live, he is my Tree of Life, he is my good shepherd, he is the door I have gone through to the promised land, he is my resting place, he is my lifesaver, he is my only mediator to God, he is my guaranteed ticket to heaven. And this man Jesus is right now, my personal C.E.O.; perfectly trustworthy.

And this is the man who is quoted in the bible as having said… “I am the way, and the truth, and the Life. No one comes to the Father except through me.” That statement is hugely unpopular – in many Christian churches – let alone with every other major and minor religion in the world. That statement is hugely unpopular with the very proud young men and women on their way to spiritual suicide. But being unpopular doesn’t make the statement wrong per se, surely. Is Jesus wrong to make such a statement? Does Jesus have the authority to make such a statement?

You have to decide and this might help you. If Jesus is who he says he is, he certainly does have the authority. Quote, “All authority in Heaven and on earth has been given to me”, unquote.

I have been taught that the faithfulness that counts is God’s faithfulness, not mine; that the power to change lives like mine, or any wretch like me comes not through my faith but through the object of my faith. I have been taught that the object of my faith is this perfect man Jesus, the exact representation of God’s being, revealed to me in great detail - without error - in the Christian bible.

Why should I pray? At the beginning of my story I asked... “Why should I pray?” I have disappointed myself, and my loved ones and others many times since 1984, and I will continue to do so I regret very much to say, but, I know that my destiny is sealed and perfectly secure. Jesus said to that very proud young man, you want to be a good breadwinner? “I am your bread. He who comes to me will never grow hungry and he who believes in me will never be thirsty”. “Go! And make disciples of all people, etc. etc.” I must pray that I will obey Him. I must pray that I will obey Him, after what He did for me.

In conclusion then, these days I am often introduced to people as the bloke who wrote Duncan. The person introducing me enjoys it. The person I am being introduced to enjoys it. And of course I enjoy it. I love being introduced as the bloke who wrote Duncan. Those introductions are truly wonderful experiences for me personally, but!!!! Listen to this for an introduction. I believe that on the day of my ultimate retirement, on the day that I die, I believe that Jesus has already said...

“Father, this is Pat Alexander, I died for him.”

© 2004 Pat Alexander