The service was late which meant an over night stay for the young flight stewardess. The crew had missed their scheduled meal but at the Commercial Hotel a barbecue was happening.

It was an evening in 1964 that was to radically change the young, attractive 22 year old stewardess’ life. She fell into conversation with one Patrick Maloney, a ruggedly handsome local grazier and, whilst the sausages sizzled and the steaks spat and hissed, they fell in love and within a year married. Joan, a confirmed city girl, suddenly found herself grounded and being introduced to the totally alien world of the Australian Outback. This new life was to give her a life of great happiness, hard work, good times, and pen ultimately great sadness.

Councillor Joan Moloney casts a slender shadow across the vast prairie-lands of Western Queensland, She is an elegant elfin like figure whose impact on the Outback and its people is out of all proportion to her slight physical stature.

Mrs Moloney peers distantly across the golden plains of Breedon, her 20,000 ha sheep property. A chill winter westerly knifes its relentless way across the vast swards of oscillating Mitchell grass. And the memories come flooding back. Breedon for Joan Moloney is now a sometimes lonely, silent place.

                            At Breedon
Patrick, who began courting her on that long ago overnight stay at Longreach, died suddenly and unexpectedly seven years ago, a victim of Wegener’s disease (a severe form of arthritis). Her three sons are now away in the city following their respective careers. She thinks one may return to run the property. She hopes but is unsure.

“My husband was in all respects a gentle man and a gentleman”, recalls the one time councillor and now Mayor of Longreach of her late husband while quietly sipping tea in the simple refinement of her lounge room. Glowing gidgee logs crackle and spit in the hearth, permeating warmth through out the room.

Her first memories of her new home left an indelible impression with her.

She was to be flooded in for six weeks, the unpaved artery between Winton and Longreach having turned to a tenacious and impassable sludge with the consistency of molten chocolate.

“We had so many people arrive, bogged to the axles, that we ran out of beer”, she chuckles. “We had to serve them wine instead”.

Joan and Paddy Maloney a day never forgotten

Then the contrasts hit her, the girl from Victoria’s stylish Ballarat whose parents were “in hotels” had come from “a very female world”. The vastness, unforgiving harshness, the stark beauty, and the maleness struck her with a maelstrom of emotions. But like the pioneer women of earlier times the young woman in a strange land adapted and grew to love her new and confronting environment.

Patrick was one of five brothers who all owned properties in the area and was the last to marry so Joans’ introduction to the wild west were cushioned by other family female company. “I had a local network”, recalls Joan. “They were very kind and welcoming”

Joan gently declines the idea of being so isolated from the life she knew.

“I had friends who I flew with who lived in the suburbs of cities. Some were very miserable and lonely. I wasn’t. But now I miss having people around at times. It can be lonely out here”.

Already a councillor, (Joan had been asked to fill a vacancy created by a retired incumbent) she was elected Mayor in March ‘94.until 2004. Patrick succumbed after a desperate 4 month fight with his illness in January ‘95. “It was a tough time for me, an emotional roller coaster”, she explains simply and then rapidly changes the subject.

But behind her gentile aura there lies a persona with an iron will and a steely determination that has earned her the respect and loyalty of the people she serves. Even her political enemies speak of Councillor Maloney with wary esteem. No small achievement in a country where respect is hard won and plaudits are distributed with economy.

Longreach Council is no different to any other when it comes to some heated encounters and has seen its fair share of knock ‘em down, drag ‘em out political disputes. There is little political finesse when it comes to serious matters in the Outback. Like survival. There have been legendary dust ups between opposing views after council sessions.

“Mate”, says one venerable resident businessman and co-councillor who, like all others, when queried on the subject of the towns’ chief executive bashfully prefers anonymity.

“She doesn’t take any shit off anyone and she doesn’t mind getting in amongst ‘em. She’s a wonderful woman and has the grace of an angel and the tongue of�.!” The sentence is left abruptly unfinished with the typical over the shoulder rider, “don’t bloody well tell her I said so!”.

This from a chap who is built like the side of a small hill, throws bullocks off their legs as a matter of course and is scared of no man. He typifies many other uncompromising, if shy, purveyors of accolades that are heaped upon the little lady who never raises her voice and has never been known to swear. But allegedly she has that look! The ability to lift an eyelid at just the right moment! That mystique!

“She could stop a mad bullock with that look”, says one (surprise� surprise) unidentifiable shearer. (“Your not gonna use my name in this yarn of yours are ya mate�”?)

Queries about their mayor from an outsider (especially a journalist) are greeted with deep suspicion.

A barrel chested grazier, fronting the bar at The Commercial and clutching a beer in a work hardened fist, when questioned casually as to the life and times of the Mayor, replied gruffly and succinctly (eyeing this writer with ill-disguised mistrust), “She's a great lady and unique�why?.

I thought better of prolonging the interview. Again the protective cordon that surrounds Joan Maloney slammed shut. The bloke typified the reaction of other folk when the subject of Joan Maloney and her respected husband “Patty” was engaged.

The West looks after its’ own.

“I don’t know what will happen out here if she retires”, offered another local identity and businessman who also, coyly, prefers anonymity.

“She’s been great for this place”, he continues confidentially. “But just once I’d like to hear her swear”, and then peered furtively over his shoulder as if she might suddenly pop out of the bougainvillea and reprove him like a naughty boy having a shifty fag behind the bike sheds.

One worthy councillor calls her “Mum”, not to her face and bravely out of earshot of course. Once again I was sworn to secrecy lest I let the identity of another member of Joan’s fan club slip.

Last March Councillor Maloney was re elected unopposed. Her understated contention that perhaps they couldn’t find anyone else is in part true. The locals reckon that no one else COULD do what she does.

“I took being re-elected unopposed as a gift from the community of Longreach which I am working to repay.” she says moistly. ‘The people were very kind to me and this is a way of giving something back’.

The local feeling is that Joan Maloney has bought dignity and financial expertise to the council along with charm, grace and style.

Joan, typically, shrugs off her undisputed ability to referee the most heated of en joiners.

“We are all there for the one reason”, she says diplomatically, “and that is for the future positive development of the shire”.
;

A decade or so ago Longreach could never be described as a pretty town. It was a dusty and slightly scruffy but important regional pastoral center in hard times and wondering about its’ future.

Today the town boasts pleasant parks, a tree lined main street, coffee shops, improved roads (one of the councillor’s passions) and more social facilities. In short the place has been spruced up.

She says that once upon a time it was difficult to keep the likes of teachers, doctors and other professionals in the town. Now she says people are not escaping the district and are enjoying their life in the West. They can see a future, a lifestyle and do not treat a posting to Longreach as a sentence to be served and then hi tail it back to the city. Something that a young aviation pioneer, Hudson Fysh dreamed of 80 years ago.

Joan’s tactical ability with a calculator has meant (amongst other things) the restoration of the city hall and the lengthening of the airports’ strip to facilitate larger aircraft. Internet access, improved media access via TV and radio and a reason for the younger generation to stay on, connect, and build a career.

“We need these facilities now that we are attracting corporate functions, seminars and conferences. Our local entrepreneurs are now investing their money in upgraded hotels, motels and restaurants”.

Welcoming Longreach latest attraction - The Boeing 747-the City of Bunbury

Tourism has become a big earner for the district.

The Stockman’s Hall of Fame was the catalyst for Longreach to move ahead”, says Joan. “This in turn will aid other towns along the Matilda Highway. We net work with a lot of other councils”.

Joan provides the fulcrum for the financial see saw that has seen Longreach blossom.

“We have had to prove to the money lenders that we are fiscally responsible”, she adds.

Mrs Maloney (who receives a small stipend for expenses and is not paid for her time of sometimes five or six days a week) is typically coy when asked what she regards as her major achievements and adroitly steers the conversation away from herself.

“I would like to think that the division between town people versus country people has been diminished. I see everything as being part of a whole”.

Joan seems genuinely surprised when confronted with the fact that she is an accomplished umpire supervising excited and, by all accounts, sometimes physically exciting council meetings. She commands the respect of a General, and perhaps even the awe, from her fellow councillors. She blushes, giggles girlishly and claims ignorance.

“I’ve found that most times people are easy to get on with I don’t want to be seen as tough and formidable. We run a tricky balancing act. I try to achieve things and not encourage division. If we don’t do it for ourselves and future generations, then who will?”

Joan is unsure what the future holds for her. Right now she is grateful for the job that brings her in close touch with her community and diverts attention from her personal grief.

“Its given me something to do since my husband died”, she whispers. As to the fate of Breedon, Joan is uncertain. My three sons are off in the city following their careers. Sean her middle son has recently returned to run the property, temporarily at least.

“It is their decision as to the fate of Breedon”, she says, and that’s how it should be.

“I am committed to my next four year term. After that we will have to see”.

“But in the meantime I’m truly grateful to this community that chance bought me to”.

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