Introducing Walter Spencer

He is solely responsible for giving me the “Walter” in Callum Walter Spencer. I’ve never met him (obviously) but I have seen pictures. He was a big guy who owned a farm in Brisbane, Australia. But he also used to be a bookie at the races. Which is exactly where my absolute, hands down, most awesome-badass family story springs from.

One fine evening on the Spencer farm, while the 3 Spencer boys and Walter were playing pool in the main house, they received a visit from a disgruntled patron from the day’s races. To say he was pissed off would be an understatement. He brought with him his gun and looked to find Walter at the other end of the barrel. Bursting through the front door he sees Walter standing just a few feet away and opens fire. Now before I go on. You would think standing just a few feet away from a man with a gun would be the worst place to be. But, if Walter had say, been shooting for a different colored ball and was across the other side of the room. The bullet would have had sufficient distance to accelerate to a lethal speed. So all that happened was the bullet hit Walter, severely annoyed, but did not kill him. Where the vigilante was then beaten up by 3 strapping young Spencer lads brandishing pool cues. After firmly persuading the consciousness of the attacker to leave his body they then kicked him out onto the street where the police promontly took him to jail and my great-great-grandfather to hospital.

And that is the story I get to hear every Christmas from my grandpa. Which I am very excited to be hearing in just over a month’s time.