AS he has done countless times before in his 22 years as the Mayor of Maitland, Peter Blackmore unlocks the briefcase that holds the ceremonial chains and carefully places them over his head and onto his shoulders.
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“They get heavy on the neck when you’ve been wearing them a while,” murmurs Cr Blackmore, as he adjusts the mayoral chains, in readiness for a citizenship ceremony in the council chamber.
They weigh a few kilograms, but, on this day, the chains feel heavier to Peter Blackmore. He is feeling the weight of memory. For Cr Blackmore is wearing the chains for one of the final times before he retires as the mayor.
“Good morning, I’m Peter Blackmore, and I have the honour of being the mayor of this great city - but only for another few weeks,” he announces to the four people standing before him, as they prepare to recite the pledge of commitment to Australia.
Also facing him is a wall of photo portraits of Maitland’s mayors past. Blackmore’s photo is up there twice; a young-looking man who was mayor from 1986 to 1990, and the second image, taken in 1999, indicates Blackmore hasn’t changed that much physically through the years, even if the city he leads has. Under that photo there is no end date. But Cr Blackmore himself has determined it will read, “2017”, deciding it is time.
“I’d rather go out on my terms,” he says.
IF Peter Blackmore was looking for a sign to enter local politics, he got it - literally. It was 1980, and he was operating the Shell service station at Rutherford.
A retiring alderman had approached Blackmore about standing in the upcoming election, but the clincher was when a council officer entered his service station and ordered him to move a sign off the footpath.
“I just didn’t think it was fair,” he recalls. He didn’t move the sign, but he was moved to put his name forward for election as an Independent onto Maitland council.
“I think just about everybody who stands for a government position, local government or otherwise, is standing on an issue that has affected them at some stage. And that was it for me.
“Being number three on the ticket, I really didn’t have much of a chance, but I beat the odds.”
By then, Peter Blackmore had ingrained himself in the life of Maitland. He wasn’t a product of the city; he was born in Lambton in 1945, the son of a coal miner. But he had moved up the valley as a young man, working in OAK’s kitchens in Morpeth before taking over a catering business.
Through that enterprise, he explains, he got to know Maitland people, catering for local weddings and balls. Then, operating the service station, Blackmore gained lessons that he could apply to a public life, particularly in “dealing with people”.
He also learnt new lessons in the council chamber, and at the after-meeting suppers, observing the more experienced councillors debating, and watching factions at play. Blackmore was evidently an effective learner; in 1986, with the support of Labor councillors, the 41-year-old became the city’s youngest elected mayor.
In 1990, he swapped to state politics, becoming the Liberal Member for Maitland, after Premier Nick Greiner urged him to stand.
The following year, Blackmore was accused of accepting a boat as a bribe to approve a subdivision during his time as mayor, and he went before the Independent Commission Against Corruption. He was cleared, with Blackmore explaining his father had bought the boat from the developer.
“It hardened me,” says Blackmore of that ordeal. “It was political.”
Blackmore inherited that boat after his father died. And he says he still cops comments about it.
“You get it thrown up at you,” he says. “Still occasionally. But it’s meant in good humour.
“People expect that politicians are always at each other’s throat or can’t be trusted, or you’re on the take, or whatever it is. That’s always there.”
“You always felt you’re up-front and honest, and for somebody to question it, you are helpless, what can you do?”
In 1999, Peter Blackmore lost his seat in the state election. A few months later, when he was approached to return to local government, he considered it: ‘I thought, “You can’t go fishing every day of your life”. He was elected as the mayor once more, as an Independent. He had resigned from the Liberal Party, “because I had to work with all sides of politics, and I didn’t want to be branded”.
Some believed he ran for mayor to position himself for another tilt at state parliament. In the 2007 state election, he did stand as an Independent but was narrowly defeated. However, Blackmore argues, in 1999, he didn’t return to council with an eye on Macquarie Street.
“It definitely wasn’t [the motivation],” he says. “I said then I get more satisfaction out of doing things local.
“I used to think on the way home from state parliament, ‘What did I achieve this week that assisted the people in my electorate?’.” When asked if he could always arrive at an answer, he replies. “No. Because of the fact in the state you’re dealing with laws throughout the state, not site specific to Maitland.”
Peter Blackmore wanted to be at the helm of a ‘“can do” council and city. But in 2002, his own life was thrown into turmoil. He was arrested and faced sexual assault charges. He continued in public life, even though he keenly felt the stares and whispers: “you know they’re talking about you, ‘that’s the guy there’, you know.
“I knew in my own mind that I hadn’t done anything wrong.”
Nineteen months on, the case was dismissed and costs were awarded to him.
WE go for a drive in the mayoral car. Blackmore says the question he is often asked by kids is whether he has a chauffeur. He drives himself. As he turns on the ignition, the radio is playing Jimmy Barnes’ Working Class Man.
Wherever we go, whatever we pass - a building, a business, an organisation - Blackmore has a story attached from his time in public life. We talk about the biggest changes in Maitland in his time as mayor, and he cites the redevelopment of the shopping complex at Green Hills as a major job generator, and the opening of the Hunter Expressway. He mentions a string of council developments, including the new indoor swimming centre.
“I just want to see that we have moved from the Maitland we adopted to the Maitland I leave,” he says. “I’ve got a great deal of enjoyment and pride out of that.”
We stop at his old service station. Over the incessant thrum of traffic, Blackmore says he used to live in a house out the back. On the next rise, where an abattoir used to be, is a blanket of residential development. I ask him does that sight make him proud.
“In a way, yes; in another way, it was nice to be able to sit out on your deck and just look at a rural aspect.”
Driving around, we pass a stream of candidates’ signs for the local government election. I wonder if Blackmore has noticed them.
“Oh, I notice them,” he smiles, while looking determinedly ahead. “But, hey, I’m not running.”
Blackmore has raised a few eyebrows by appearing in a video for Labor candidate Loretta Baker. He explains he would do the same for any of the other candidates who had served as his deputy, saying they “are all capable of being the mayor”.
Blackmore has been seen as a political engima. This Independent mayor has been a National Party member, a Liberal Party MP, and has worked with the support of Labor members. So what are his politics?
“I’m conservative,” he replies. But he asserts, “If there’s one thing I’ve achieved, it’s trying to keep politics out of the chamber.”
We meet with his wife Robyn for lunch. They have been married since 2008, and it is a desire to spend more time with her, and their families, that Blackmore says has prompted him to retire from politics.
Robyn wonders how her husband will cope with retirement: “I think he will have to keep himself busy.”
They are planning to do some caravaning, exploring more of the country. But Robyn Blackmore’s concern is that when Peter is not so busy, he will have time to go to the hardware store and buy tools he doesn’t know how to use.
“Oh, there’s the opportunity to go to a Men’s Shed,” he replies.
Asked about her husband’s greatest attribute as mayor, she replies, “I think it’s accessibility. He’s always available. It takes us three hours to do our shopping because people want to talk to him.”
BACK in the Mayor’s office after the citizenship ceremony, Peter Blackmore lifts off the ceremonial chains and locks them away in the briefcase.
“Well, that’s it,” he mutters.
On one wall is a photo of wild seas smashing into a peninsula with a building sitting serenely on it, out of reach of the waves. He explains an assistant gave it to him, because he wanted a “water picture” in his office. Yet it’s hard not to see the image as symbolic of Peter Blackmore, as he has survived the tempests and controversies that have swirled around him to become the city’s longest serving mayor.
Beyond those two photos in the council chamber, Peter Blackmore has a simple wish for how his public life is remembered by the 78,000 residents he has represented: “I just hope they have greater pride in their city, to get out there and say with pride, ‘I’m from Maitland’.”