In memory of a special bloke, Russell Hilton of Texas 4385.
(The passing of Alwyne about whom I blogged a couple of weeks back caused me to think of other notable people whom I've yarned with and who are no longer with us. Russell Hilton came to mind first, and when I was advised this week that the Stockman Hotel at Texas, Russell's local was on the market, I understood I should share this memoir of a time I spent with him at the pub a few years back) A few years back, I was staying in Texas, Qld. I was due out early next morning but Helen Rush, the publican told me about a local who'd be in early and was worth sticking around for. I figured he could wait until I came back but something made me stay. That next morning, not too long after opening time, Russell turned up with his betting form. I caught up with him down near the TAB window. Russell Hilton was a jockey-sized bloke, probably no more than 60 kilograms, pretty deaf by now, but with a firm handshake and eyes that looked into mine as he spoke, but which ...