Joy Baluch - Iron lady with a big heart

LAST October, at almost 80 and frail from the cancer that has now claimed her, firebrand mayor Joy Baluch spoke to Brad Crouch about her vision for her Port Augusta. Joy Baluch dies from cancer

LAST October, at almost 80 and frail from the cancer that has now claimed her, firebrand mayor Joy Baluch spoke to Brad Crouch about her vision for her Port Augusta.

THE shy stenographer who now calls a spade a bloody shovel is happy with progress but not quite satisfied. Joy Baluch AM, mayor extraordinaire, turns 80 on Wednesday. The chemotherapy for breast cancer has slowed her marginally but the spark in her eye still glints with steel.

The Mayor of Port Augusta is not keen on media - too many have used a tough-talking woman as an easy headline without getting the full story - but she grants a chat to the Advertiser while in Adelaide this week before heading to the Queen Elizabeth Hospital for treatment.

Like some of Hollywood's great leading ladies, in older years she still carries great presence as she shoos away a pet dog in her daughter Michelle's suburban home, before she perches on a kitchen stool for a chat.

A busy life and cancer has made her a little thin, a little frail, but even a few days short of 80 years "a vision from God" she saw at age 15 of seeing Port Augusta as a vibrant regional centre remains strong in her mind and she plans to see it to fruition.

She has been mayor for 29 years over three terms - believed to be an Australian record - and on council for some 40 years.

Joy is renowned as being opinionated, for not suffering fools and for using strong language to make a point. But in a long, deeply personal chat she also reveals a warm heart, has a spray at today's politicians, laments starting civic life so late, and as a loving grandmother sheds a tear at the foibles of family life.

So who exactly is this woman most South Australians have an opinion on?

Nancy Joy Baluch was born in Port Augusta just on 80 years ago, as were her parents and grandparents. Her forebears were of Scottish and English stock and she considers her beloved Port Augusta as blessed by God.

She left school at 14, worked in a legal office at 15, went to the railways at 16, was the Commissioner's chief stenographer by 17, fell in love at first sight at 18, was married by 21.

Those who think she took a tough stance against asylum seekers at the former Baxter detention centre - she was fuming the Federal Government was pouring millions of dollars into the centre while she was struggling to raise funds for mental health, alcohol abuse and sports programs in her adjoining town - might like to know that as a teenager she volunteered to try to trace families of people displaced by World War II.

One was a Ukrainian studying to be a Russian Orthodox priest when the Nazis captured him and put him to work in a rocket factory, where an attempt at sabotage saw him interned in the infamous Dachau concentration camp.

When freed he came to Australia and was working on the railways at remote Cook when he took a break in Port Augusta where Joy was working with the Good Neighbour Council. "When I saw Teofil it was love at first sight - I was 18 and fell head over heels," Joy recalls.

Her beloved Teofil died 16 years ago from lung cancer - he had never smoked but had worked in the Port Augusta power stations, which is part of the reason Joy is leading the charge for the coal-fired stations to be replaced by solar.

Not everyone in Port Augusta was keen on foreigners at the time, and the couple moved to Adelaide.

"We were married when I was 21 and the reason I got out of Port Augusta was the attitude of people to displaced persons," she said. "I bought a seven-day deli on Holbrooks Rd and Henley Beach Rd."

The couple returned to Port Augusta when Joy fell pregnant with Michelle, and after the birth later of her son Emil she took an interest in council politics - he was a severe asthmatic who was not expected to live past 14, and as a mother she was determined to lobby for improved health services.

"I started off being very nice and trying to please everyone but gradually learnt if you want to get things done you have to thump tables, get noticed and upset some people," she said.

"I was always very shy. God put me through trials and tribulations to teach me I could not just shut up, I had to stand up and say things as they are.

"I had to learn to speak like a man in a man's city. My one regret is I started so late - I've been in local government for 40 years and I tried to be nice but . . . if you want to get things done you have to toughen up."

That toughness has been a role model for other women but, according to Joy, not for other politicians whom she scornfully dismisses as weak. Her opinion of most media is slightly lower, with plenty of "F-bombs" to light up conversation.

"Political correctness dating back to Paul Keating now sets the agenda - it is all poll driven, they won't tell the truth because it might upset someone so you see them all working on short-term solutions instead of tackling issues for the long term which might be unpopular," she said.

"The young media all think they are Jana Wendt, giving their baby opinions instead of telling the public what is actually going on."

While Joy's colourful language and forthright views generates headlines, less is written about her community service such as her 15 years on the Local Government Association executive and her role in establishing agencies such as Port Augusta's Women's and Children's Emergency Shelter, the Child Care Centre, the Homeless Person's Hostel, Aged Care Hostel and the development of the Remote and Isolated Children's Exercise program.

And there's the mammoth effort to deal with alcohol and social issues of Port Augusta that once threatened to derail the town. The place has embraced its waterfront and cleaned up its image and now sees itself positioned as a mining and tourism hub - the Crossroads of Australia.

Joy took the lead in banning drinking alcohol in public places, a controversial move she says should now be replicated in Adelaide to curb drunken violence. She stresses it has been a team effort. "I wanted public dry areas since 1986 because every day there would be attacks because of alcohol."

Joy says about a quarter of her region's population are Aboriginal and that it has taken her a long time to work with them.

"We have 28 tribes in Port Augusta - 28 dialects - so it is not always easy, but many of them love me for banning public drinking because they know alcohol is killing their brothers and sisters," she said.

"Since the Whitlam and Dunstan eras governments have thrown money at Aboriginal people, but those of my vintage say to me, `Aunty Joy, we don't want money, we want jobs' and I tell them, `You won't get jobs unless you get an education'."

Joy's campaign against alcohol outside homes, hotels and restaurants is not born from being a wowser - she worked behind the bar at the Railway Refreshment Room from 1988-92 and knows first hand the cheer and fellowship of drinking in moderation, and the violence and heartache of abuse. She has also run the Pampas Motel for a remarkable 51 years, enduring various economic cycles and the changing fortunes of Port Augusta including the downturn of the 1990s when the rail and power industries restructured and hundreds left town.

"God has made my city the centre of the universe - we have the biggest uranium and biggest copper mine in the world in our backyard and it is a beautiful area for tourism but it has been difficult to turn our tourism image around because the media has given us a bad name," she said.

Joy's robust defence of her home includes demanding actor Hugh Sheridan apologise for jokingly referring to the city as "Port Aug-gutta' on the Channel 10's The Project this year, which she says mocked the Aboriginal community and denigrated the town.

For all her toughness, Joy is also vulnerable. She takes great pride in her children - Emil defied doctors' predictions he would not survive his teens - and her grandchildren Allan and Carlee.

But the chemo and the relentless job do take a toll, not to mention rushing to Adelaide for a doctor's appointment to find just how the treatment is working and fitting in a nosy reporter and photographer just before the appointment.

Posing with daughter Michelle for a photo, Joy proudly quips it is Michelle's birthday the following day.

Michelle gently whispers: "Actually Mum, it is today."

South Australia's toughest woman melts into tears and hugs her precious daughter as she realises she has missed a day somewhere. That's when you know the woman who has described herself as having "balls as well as boobs" has heart as well as headlines.