Howard Dicker was just eight years old the first time he climbed behind the wheel of his family’s Oldsmobile truck and discovered what would be a lifelong passion.
It was a good eight years before he would officially get his driver’s licence, but as a young child he worked the pedals and kept the truck steady on the rough scrub tracks in rural South Australia.
The only son of Harold and Nellie Dicker would go on to spend the next 85 years of his life behind the wheel.
“People think you’re making it up when you tell them you were driving trucks and fixing engines as a kid of that age, but that’s how life was,” the 93-year-old said of the “vastly different, but wonderful” Australia he grew up in.
Rural Australia the engine of a broken nation
The Wall Street Crash of 1929 led to a worldwide economic depression and Australia, still reeling from the Great War, was not immune.
At its worst in 1932, unemployment in Australia reached 32 per cent.
No-one was untouched by the impacts of the economic uncertainty, including the Dicker family.
They moved to the small and isolated rural community of Kingston from the Adelaide Hills during the Great Depression, re-establishing a family connection through pioneer relatives, the Randalls.
Howard was born in Kingston in 1932, and still lives on the same block of land given to the family by his maternal grandfather.
Soon after his birth, Howard’s parents took on a shop in the town and bought a second-hand Fargo truck, embarking on twice-weekly trips to Adelaide taking fish to the city, and bringing back fresh fruit and vegetables.
“Kingston had never seen fresh commercial fruit and veg before then,” Howard said.
Building an empire
By 1937, the family had set the wheels in motion for their pioneering trucking business H F Dicker and Son, with the purchase of a new Oldsmobile truck.
“With the new truck, and the war coming at the same time, I missed more school than I went to,” Howard said.
“By 13, I’d left school and was driving full time for Mum and Dad.”
By the time he was 16, Howard had behind the truck wheel for eight years and working full-time for his father for three.
Nonetheless, when he was finally old to get his official road licence, his father and the local policeman decided to play a prank.
“My father and the local police officer conspired to have a bit of fun at my expense,” Howard recalled.
“I went into the police station to get my licence and Officer Flynn told me he could put me in one of the little rooms out the back because I’d been driving without a licence.
“I didn’t know ’til afterwards that he and dad had all this cooked up,” he laughed.
Connecting the bush to the city
By the late 60s, Howard and his wife, Shirl, whom he married in 1952, had big plans and big dreams for the business, and took the wheel from Howard’s parents.
“Mum and Dad came up in life without much money and they were very careful,” he said.
“I was a bit different, I could see plenty of opportunities — especially in earthmoving, I was the first to buy a backhoe in the area, before that it was all shovels.
“I had so much backing from my wife, she was right behind me from day one; everything we did, we did together.
“We went gangbusters really. We bought dozers, graders and more trucks, taking on new jobs and trucking routes, including projects near Nundroo in the far west of the state, and a regular run into Arkaroola in the Flinders Ranges.”
Loyal employees like family
On a busy Monday in September this year, H F Dicker and Son is a hub of activity, noise and heavy machinery.
Dicker family members remain in the driver’s seat of the business, but staff are “like family” here.
“One of my men, Mike, has worked here for 50 years,” Howard said.
“For 50 years, the Kingston groceries have come in on time thanks to Mike.”
It’s always been that way, he added.
“After the Vietnam War, I employed a number of men because they came home and wanted something to do,” he said.
“They wanted to work, and they worked hard. It was the same for my father, who employed many soldier settlers.
“It was just such a different society. Everything was on a handshake.”
Road ahead still calls
Looking back on a long life on the road, Howard said there had been moments in the H F Dicker and Son story that “had to be seen to be believed”.
One of those was the railway strike in 1950.
“Dad and I hardly ever slept,” he said.
“We went up and back to Adelaide as hard as we could to shift the farmer’s wool. I still hold the record out here; I did 36 loads of wool in six weeks.”
After Shirl passed away, Howard said he needed the trucks more than ever.
“I was completely lost,” he said.
Until just two years ago, aged 91, Howard drove a Kenworth B-double on the promise of “only doing two loads a day”.
“I used to get into trouble if my son, Gary, caught me doing three loads,” he said.
Hard work, independence and pragmatism has always been Howard’s way of life.
“As a young kid, I was swinging the axe every winter. A shovel and an axe was part of my life,” he said.
“It did me no harm at all; it taught me the importance of hard work, and that hard work has kept me healthy and fit throughout my life.”
Ready to get behind the wheel again, this time of his “Yank tank” GMC ute on route to Queensland for an annual holiday, Howard said much like the classic Australian novel of the same name, he has lived a fortunate life.
“I’ve lived a lucky life. I’ve lived through the best of Australia’s years,” he said.