Login Required

This content is restricted to University of Auckland staff and students. Log in with your username to view.

Log in

More about logging in

In the early 1970s 33-year-old Pakeha journalist Sue McCauley began a relationship with troubled Maori teen Pat Hammond, which raised many conservative eyebrows.

Primary Title
  • NZ Story
Secondary Title
  • Sue McCauley
Episode Title
  • Still Crazy After All These Years
Date Broadcast
  • Sunday 7 January 2018
Start Time
  • 15 : 20
Finish Time
  • 15 : 50
Duration
  • 30:00
Series
  • 1
Episode
  • 2
Channel
  • TVNZ 1
Broadcaster
  • Television New Zealand
Programme Description
  • In the early 1970s 33-year-old Pakeha journalist Sue McCauley began a relationship with troubled Maori teen Pat Hammond, which raised many conservative eyebrows.
Classification
  • PGR
Owning Collection
  • Chapman Archive
Broadcast Platform
  • Television
Languages
  • English
  • Maori
Captioning Languages
  • English
Captions
Live Broadcast
  • No
Rights Statement
  • Made for the University of Auckland's educational use as permitted by the Screenrights Licensing Agreement.
Subjects
  • Television programs--New Zealand
  • Biographical television programs
Genres
  • Biography
  • Interview
Contributors
  • Sue McCauley (Subject)
  • Pat Hammond (Subject)
  • Jane Reeves (Director)
  • JamTV (Production Unit)
  • NZ On Air (Funder)
Captions by Ashlee Scholefield. Edited by Tracey Dawson. www.tvnz.co.nz/access-services Captions were made possible with funding from NZ On Air. Copyright TVNZ Access Services 2013 Kia ora, everyone. I'm Witi Ihimaera. Christchurch in the early 1970s was an unlikely setting for journalist Sue McCauley to embark on a controversial relationship which transgressed and crossed boundaries of age, race and class. Sue was in her early 30s and a separated mother of two when she began her union with troubled Maori teen Pat Hammond. In 1982, Sue used that relationship as the inspiration for her award-winning novel Other Halves. So, what happened to Sue and Pat? This is their story. QUAINT MUSIC Come on, girls. Close the gate, darling. Why? Why? Until they're all up. Come on, Tiana. Can you grab Tiana, darling? Can you grab Tiana, darling? Come on. No, I can't grab Tiana. We're doing far too much together now, I have to say. From my point of view, I think this togetherness is` is a bit excessive. From my point of view, I think this togetherness is` is a bit excessive. (CHUCKLES) I don't think so. I didn't think we were spending enough time together ` there you go. PAT: Where are ya? Well, I can't go through there. There'll be no one down here. Come on, man. Come on, man. Try the nuts, please. > BUCKET RATTLES BUCKET RATTLES Yeah, I am trying the nuts. BUCKET RATTLES Yeah, I am trying the nuts. With the gate open? > Come on, guys. I lived with my parents until I was 7, then my father got into some trouble, and he cleared off over to Aussie, and my mother, she was crook with cancer. I was 9 when she died, and my father was back by then. He'd been in a bit of trouble and he was doing time for it. And he was only allowed out for one day, because he` to see the funeral. I met Sue first in a place called Six A, where she was involved with, and, um, a friend of hers called Katrine Brown, who started it up, uh, for homeless kids and things, and Sue was one of the volunteers. Katrine Brown, she had a lot of standing in the community. She was` yeah, she was a great` great person. And she started this drop-in centre for kids, and` who seemed to be, you know, at a loose end, didn't have jobs, whatever, in the middle of Christchurch. And she said, 'Do you know anyone who'll help?' And I said, 'I will, when I can,' and I had little kids. But you could go down there and take them. And then you learnt very quickly that these kids were homeless, so the place closed at 6 o'clock or whatever, 5 o'clock, and you're saying, 'Right, out you go. 'We're closing up now.' And they had nowhere to go. They were kids ` 13, 14-year-olds ` so, um, some of them started coming to stay with us. Later on a friend of ours, um, who was cleaning Sue's house, said to her, um, 'There's this young guy called Pat and he's sorta living on the streets. 'Um, he's got nowhere to stay at the moment. Could he stay here for a few days?' And Sue had to, you know, talk to her husband about it, cos she already had a young guy staying with them at the time. And, um, yeah. They said, 'Yeah, well, just send him around.' Pat, mm, he was like a kitten, really ` like a homeless kitten, who you` he's gonna be there. He would ring up. He would go into town and find a phone and ring up, say, 'What's for tea?' I mean, none of the other kids did this. Um, and he just liked to be told, I think, and know that there would be food there when he came home. Um, and he also stopped me and said, 'What does that word mean?' And I suddenly realised the other kids ` a lot of what I said just drifted over their heads, because they didn't know the meaning of the words. Whereas Pat would say, 'What are you saying? What does that mean? Tell me that. Explain that.' He had tremors all the time. He shook like` like that. Yeah` Yeah, and he binge-drink` you know, he was a binge-drinker, if he could get hold of it. Um, in a way he seemed... oh, malleable. I don't know ` younger, needier than a lot of them. Well, he was 15, I suppose. A normal family was the main thing that I really wanted and, you know, um, they were kind; they were loving. And I didn't have that, um, when I was growing up, especially after my mum dying. When I first moved in, like, Sue's children would have been` Keeley would have been 4, Nathan, 8. So in some ways, I was sorta like a big brother. And we played a lot together, and we did things together. And, yeah, just hung around, basically. Yeah. And I felt very comfortable. We didn't start the relationship maybe until I was just before my 16th birthday, so, um, she had this, um, marriage break-up and things like that. And we were both sort of needing` needy, sort of thing, so we used to talk to each other a lot, you know, about what happened to us as children. She was just really easy to talk to, you know. Just` Just one of those people, you know. You could say anything to her and it` it wouldn't affect her, eh. She was` She was great. It took a while. I'd been` I started to fancy him, and I knew I shouldn't. That seemed utterly appalling ` um, a reflection on my fractured state at the time. Um, and so he kept... Yeah, I tried to get him drunk once, and that didn't work. (LAUGHS) And then he, um` No, we finally got together. And for a while we didn't tell the kids. I mean, I thought, 'Well, it's a one-night stand ` he's a kid.' And, um, he got all strange for the next few days. Um, mm, so it took a while to sort that out. But then` And then he kept saying, 'You've got to tell the children.' When they told me, it wasn't a big shock, really. And I was so young that I didn't really get that, um, you know, European and, you know, Polynesian or other ethnicities together was a bit of a naughty thing; or age difference ` didn't really, um` I didn't get that. I think, at the time, I was quite pleased that me mum had somebody. She was, you know` I wasn't, um, anti her having an` you know, a boyfriend or anything. But it was, um, quite a tumultuous time, just cos it was such a huge change all the time. RELAXED MUSIC You know, we've got the term 'cougar'. And a woman from a magazine rang me up and said, 'I want you to comment on, um, you know, being a cougar.' 'What's that?' So I wasn't up with the play. But now I know, so it's sort of fashionable, isn't it? I mean, I refused ` I couldn't think of anything worse. I didn't know that I` I didn't ever feel like a cougar. When we first were going together, it was 'your toy boy', wasn't it? Oh, that's right, yes, yes. That's what the pejorative term was ` spat out at me, 'You and your toy boy.' I think everyone's anxious about their relationships, so they're always trying to measure it up against other people's. And it makes everyone feel a lot better if they can see someone else that they think is more unsuitable or ridiculous than theirs. Come on, babe. Come on, babe. Oh, old age, honey, what it does to us. MELLOW MUSIC It was a hard road, really, I mean, for the first few years, cos, uh, trying to find work, um, was really hard. And also our age gap was really noticeable when I was 15 and Sue was 33, you know ` I mean, I was like a kid. I was 16. It seems to me that our life existed off trying to find work for Pat, and often he'd get jobs, and he'd be made redundant, and that, as we got into the '80s and '90s, that just happened over and over again. And because my work was` I could do it wherever, you know, I could carry it with me ` we moved, on the whole, because there would be work for Pat, and` and it was hard, yeah. Sue's auntie, too, which was, um` she was very kind, and` and she used to sometimes give us money, you know, and also` Oh, and take the children` Oh, and take the children` ...and take the children, um, when things were really hard. It was scary. It's scary to have children and no steady means of support. Yeah, I used to, uh, apply for jobs, and they'll say to me, 'No, we had one of you guys here, um, and it didn't work out.' And I said, 'What guys?' And they say, 'Oh, one of youse,' you know, meaning a Maori guy or something. And I said, 'Well, I'm not the same person, mate. What are you talking about?' You know. But, um, yeah, it was` there was a lot of racism back in those days. We think we're a fairly average, ordinary suburban couple. The minute you're faced with the situation of having to fill in forms, um, deal with bureaucracy ` these people look at your age, goggle, ask questions, demand our marriage certificate ` that always has to be produced. It'd be the most produced marriage certificate in NZ, I suspect. Um, people don't take you at face value. You suddenly feel freaks. It was so insightful being with Pat. I saw the society I thought I knew from such a different perspective. And so I thought, 'Well, I've got something to write about.' Pat thinks I only wrote because of him, but that's just not true at all. I mean, I was a journalist, but I wanted to write fiction. I'd always wanted to write fiction. And I'd done one or two short stories and things. Um, but, you know, you don't make money writing fiction, and that was the problem. Writing a book is a huge great gamble, and my friend Rosie Scott ` whose father was Dick Scott, the historian ` she said to me, 'Sue, you can apply for a grant.' And I had no idea. And I did apply for a grant, and I got one to help me. And when the grant came, we'd actually just shifted up north, and we had nothing ` we couldn't feed the children. I'd rung my auntie and said, 'Can you please, you know, get a fare for the children and take them for a while, 'cos we've got no money and no, sort of, immediate prospects.' And then I got the grant from the literary fund, and it was just like a miracle. After Other Halves came out, it made me hot, it made me the something of the month, um, it made me have totally unrealistic expectations of what happens when you have a book published. Um, yeah, but it wasn't as nice as having, say, the telephone operator in Okaihau or Kaikohe say to me, when I was having a call put through, 'I've read your book, and I hardly ever read books.' And, you know, a lot of people read it who weren't great readers. And I loved that response. We got thousands of letters, like, for the first couple of years, from people not only in NZ ` Australia, America, um, um, all around the world, basically ` saying that they had the same experiences with a young guy and an older woman. I felt really chuffed about that, you know ` that` that we meant, you know, something to people. Well, when I was writing the book and we were all suffering economically, I kept saying, 'But wait till they make the movie, and we'll be filthy rich,' which was kind of a joke. And then... it didn't seem that long afterwards, I had people ringing me up and saying, 'I'm interested in making a movie.' And, I mean, it seems bizarre, when you thought` I don't think we even have furniture in most of the house. In some cultures, young men are encouraged to go with older women for experience. Women were warning me ` they were saying, 'They'll turn it into something 'that is not what` what you intended.' But we wanted the money. We wanted the... whatever. PAT: At first I was a bit disappointed about the movie, you know, and how they, you know, shot some of the scenes. Um, how they, um, portrayed Liz living in a loft. And it was` And them living in a sort of old house, you know, with graffiti over the walls and all that. We never lived like that. I thought by writing the script... I was` I was really naive. I thought I would have a lot of control, because I would have the say on the script. And I had written for television. I mean, I did sort of know a bit about it. Um, but, in fact, that's not quite how it happened. TYRES SQUEAK The gang thing wasn't really us. When we were` I was hanging around with, um, boys in Christchurch, we never had any fights like that. We were trying to look cool and like Jimi Hendrix, you know. Um, we were just a bunch of kids that had no homes. What impact did you want this book to have? Oh, I wanted to change things. I mean, I always do. At my age you should know I'm not going to. I should realise that the power of the print is negligible, but I keep on, um, having this silly fantasy that if you write something about what you see as a wrong, you're going to, in at least a very small way, change people's attitudes ` maybe change society. It seemed almost essential to my well-being, after a while, to come back here. I really wanted to come back here. Well, I didn't start my life here, because, although my parents lived here and my sister was born here, um, my mum died when I was born, so we went to live down the road with my grandma. And then my dad got a housekeeper, and we came back to live here when I was 5. So, yeah. And the room behind us was our bedroom ` mine and my sister's. And I just loved` I just loved the farm. I was very apprehensive at the start, because this is where Sue, um, you know... her family come from, her father's farm and all that, and I had a business in Christchurch, so... For the first, you know, sorta year or so, I was sort of, like... I'd never done farming before. I was always in forestry. And it was actually quite a challenge, you know. I found it a real challenge. I know, I know, I know. It's not a day for activity. We might find a little skerrick of shade somewhere. It started to change for me, uh, five, six years ago when we got the alpacas. That was the change, because it was something that, um, I` We went to a show and saw these cute little animals, and thought, 'Well, it'd be exciting to own a few of them, anyway.' And then, um, three of them turned into 22. (LAUGHS) Come on, Ra. It's nice and cool in here. You'll like it. Get away from all that heat. Come on. Come on. BUCKET RATTLES Alpacas were a weak moment, originally, that snowballed, really. Grew like Topsy. Um, we just thought they were gorgeous, as most people do. But we had a bit of land here, and we thought, 'We can farm something where they don't go to the slaughter.' Well, it's not really panning out, but it may. No spitting. > I just love being here because it feels, like, right for me. This is your home. That's why it's perfect for you. This is your home. That's why it's perfect for you. Yeah. Yeah. GRAVEL CRUNCHES I'm now 56, so that's, um... What's that? 41 years? Yeah. It's pretty blood good, actually. (LAUGHS) The legacy for me, with writing the book ` it's really something I'd quite like to move on for forever and have forgotten. It's a bit like this little, um, thing you carry on your back, you know, an albatross or something, which it shouldn't be ` it was a brilliant experience. But, um, I... I've never felt pinned back there, that that's where my life ended, you know. And it's very strange when you have something, and people think that's it ` that was your life. Um, that was something we did a long time ago. He has complained about being forever seen as a, you know` a rather nasty 16-year-old, which is a bit unfair too. I think now things have changed so much that, um, you see that, um, it's quite common for, you know, young, um` older women now with younger men. I suppose we were the pioneers of it, you know. Um, but... it-it's really nice now, and people are more accepting now than what they were during the '70s ` a lot more accepting now. We're really comfortable with each other, um, and we love each other. That's... Well, I still love Sue ` very much. And she's, uh, probably the most important thing in my life. I mean, it's such a perfect day for it, isn't it? And yet we're not getting any bites. We think we're pretty lucky, you know, um, that we've got three beautiful grandchildren. Yeah. It's quite emotional. It's, uh... We're never neutral to each other. Um, it's either really good or really bad, but there's never indifference, there's never non-communication. Probably that` that's what matters quite a lot. And we do love each other. I mean, I suppose that's it too. All the garden's dying. Is it? I think. I was so hanging out for summer. I was so hanging out for summer. Well, you're watering it all the time. Well` Well` This would be beautiful if` Summer's here, girl, and now you're moaning about it. 'I think about the future more than the past now. You know, what the grandkids are gonna be like when they're older. BUCKET RATTLES I plan to be here when I die, yes, absolutely. I think this would be a lovely place for us ` both of us ` to spend the rest of our time. 'NZ STORY' THEME It was only when I got, uh, maybe 50m or 80m below the south summit of Everest that I suddenly realised that I was going to be able to stay alive ` for sure.
Subjects
  • Television programs--New Zealand
  • Biographical television programs