Terry Hall’s grandfather, Thomas Hall, was an Irishman who migrated to Australia and settled in the area of Bega, N.S.W. One of his sons, John, was Terry’s father and somewhere in this line is the Bushranger Ben Hall, but as yet I have not got around to actually confirming this or just where he fits into the picture. Someday when time permits, I will get around to this.
Terry’s father John moved to Maclean, N.S.W. and become a farmer. He met and married a girl by the name of Jessie Shields, who bore him eight children. Elizabeth, sad to say, died as an infant, the second child was Tom, then came Lillian, Jack, May, Harvey, Heather and last of all was Bill.
John Hall played the accordian and was popular at local get-togethers in those days. His children all had good vocal cords and would put them to good use at such gatherings, especially May, who was exceptionally good but did find it hard to stand in front of an audience. Two of the boys, Tom and Harvey, played instruments and became good entertainers and were always requested to go to any and all gatherings that came about. Tom used to go by the name of Larry in the entertaining world and just why this was I’m not quite sure. Likewise Harvey became known as Terry. These names stuck with the two boys and they were known as such from that time on.
Terry was born at Ewingsdale, near Byron Bay, on the 3rd of June, 1927, and christened Harvey Henry Hall. All of the children went to school at Corindi and Terry’s early life was spent around this area between Grafton and Woolgoolga.
In 1934 Terry got his first guitar and began to learn to play. He was only seven at the time but showed good potential and by the time he was eleven, he was composing his own material and quite popular at local functions and dance halls.
By 1941, Terry had joined the work force as most boys of that era aged twelve to fourteen did. By now he was in great demand at all local concerts, dances and fundraising activities for the Armed Forces. In those early years Terry worked first in timber and drifted later into sheep and cattle. Many a wool shed and mustering camp rang with the sound of Terry and his guitar.
In 1946 he entered and gained 3rd place in Australia’s Amateur Hour. He also decided to join the army and signed on for service with the Australian Imperial Forces on the 4th of March. He then spent time with the occupation force in Japan. His discharge certificate, No. 571828, states that he was discharged on the first of April, 1948, and no longer eligible for active service. In the two years he spent in the army he spent 204 days outside of Australia in active service.
Terry returned to the bush and about this time began knocking around with Stan Coster who originally came from the Casino area. The pair worked through Western Queensland and into South West Queensland and eventually wound up working on the Snowy Mountain construction scheme. They both left there to travel with a rough riding show, Stan as a rider and Terry as a singer.
1952 saw Terry working on a banana plantation of the north coast of N.S.W. It was here that he met Olive, the girl he was later to marry. In 1952, Terry also went to Sydney and got work in the Wool Stores. He began looking for work in the entertainment field and while working around the shows and radio, it was suggested that he take part in the Tim McNamara Talent Quest, which he did and worked his way through to the Top place in the finals. This resulted in him recording for the Rodeo Label and one of these songs was the ever popular “Bald Faced Cattle.” Next he recorded for the Bell Label and one of these tracks was “Banks of The Neebine” which he wrote while working on Bendy Downs Station in South West Queensland.
By now Terry’s health was far from good and was beginning to tell on him. In 1958 he married Olive Gilmore (her maiden name was Crossley) the lady he’d met in 1952. They moved to Sydney and Terry again worked the show and radio scene. 1959 came and Terry spent eight months in Concord Repatriation Hospital, after which he moved back north to his home country, taking little interest in music and mostly working in the timber industry.
1965 and he was back in Sydney again, with a revived interest in show business and keener than ever on a musical career.
In 1968 he recorded an EP for the Festival Label and immediately went on tour. Returning to Sydney mid-year, he soon after suffered a heart attack and was admitted to the Parramatta Hospital where he passed away on the 28th of August, 1968, and was laid to rest at Rockwood Cemetery.
Friends and fans of the time claimed his best and most popular material had never been recorded, one of which was “The Yodelling Chinaman,” a song that Terry himself said was so far ahead of his usual work that it was doubtful it would be accepted as his work - that he would record a few others and work up to it . . . A plan that was never to come about.
He left his wife “Smokey” as he nicknamed her, with a host of memories, like playing his guitar at the breakfast table while his meal got stone cold . . . of sending him to the shops for a loaf of bread and some meat and having him come back with the meat wrapping covered with all sorts of lines and a half written song and NO bread . . . of being woken up at some unearthly hour of the night to pack because “We are going to Parks” (or some such town) - and sure enough, by daylight they would be well on the road.
This reminds me of a poem that Smokey wrote in remembrance of her husband, the great and wonderful Terry Hall.
Travelling Light
The time has come, I hear him say
The time to travel light
With a change of clothes and a scratched Guitar
I board this train tonight
I don’t know where I’m going
As I leave our empty home
Maybe somewhere on a Queensland run
Where the white faced cattle roam
Travel light, he always told me
‘Ere we started on a trip
And then he’d pack with greatest care
A large and awkward grip.
It always had me most intrigued
As to why he packed his suits
Then wore with well dressed ease,
Stockman cut and high heeled boots
It was a standing joke with us
"You have to travel light"
Because to pack for a two day trip
Would take us half the night.
Guitars and strings, his shirts and things
Must all be there in place
Then when he saw the neat result
A smile would cross his face
I feel his presence oh-so-near
On this rattling train tonight.
I see again the face I loved
And hear him whisper . . "I’m travelling light."
By Olive "Smokey Hall"
Ó July, 2001 by Ian Hands.
