Don’t mess with mower man: He mows, mulches and more
IT WAS 10.15am on Tuesday, May 17 in a tranquil part of town.
The sun was shining, the birds were singing, retirees were admiring autumn’s colours and work-from-home toilers were wishing they were retirees.
The dull noise of a ride-on mower was obvious, but not offensive, as a well-known landscaper plied his trade on a customer’s lawn.
Suddenly, a stolen Audi SUV (meaning Sport Utility Vehicle, silly name!) came racing around the corner at speed, and on the wrong side of the road, with an unmarked police car in hot pursuit, sirens blazing and lights flashing.
The vehicle had been stolen some days before, as many are these days in Toowoomba, and our gallant police had finally made contact.
It seems a Gang of Four youngsters, with similar backgrounds, had planned to turn this lovely area into a take-what-youcan supermarket with the modus operandi of dropping two lads off for their spree and catching up with the other two at the end of the adventure to share the spoils.
As the vehicles disappeared, the two remaining “shoppers” scarpered and headed for the landscaper’s battered utility hoping to find it conveniently outfitted with a set of keys.
The landscaper, a kind and gentle man, was alerted to the action by concerned neighbours and turned his trusty “Toro” ride-on mower to pursue the felons.
The younger of the two took off like a scalded cat while the older sought refuge in an adjacent yard.
When he was confronted by our hero he used, to quote Banjo Paterson’s “Clancy of the Overflow,” “language uninviting of the gutter children fighting” and I am not convinced our hero did not resort to a similar verbal delivery.
Air swings were exchanged, as were punches, and at one stage the youngster reached for his pocket which left our hero wondering if there might have been a weapon.
He restrained the youngster until the police arrived, at which point an officer called the boy by name, “cuffed” him, checked for weapons and took him away, tears flowing down his cheeks.
Our gallant gardener told me the police were wonderful as they went about their job of interviewing neighbours.
What these poor, unfortunate thieves didn’t know was this particular part of town boasts an extremely active Neighbourhood Watch program, and while our chameleon-like lads were moving from house-to-house, cameras were clicking, SMS’s were ticking, home phones were ringing and retirees and work-from-home toilers were exchanging hand signals from balconies - poor rascals didn’t stand a chance.
Our, now, celebratory gardener has some sound advice for what he calls our “terrorised community” – look after your own patch, know your neighbours and embrace Neighbourhood Watch.
The landscaper … turned his trusty “Toro” ride-on mower to pursue the felons.