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The Guardian - AU
The Guardian - AU
Lifestyle
Brett Phillips, as told to Katie Cunningham

The kindness of strangers: I was hitchhiking with nowhere to sleep when a man gave me his bed for the night

Illustration over an archival image of a man hitchhiking.
‘I was getting despondent … when lo and behold, a car came along.’ Illustration: Victoria Hart/Guardian Design/Alamy

It was 1970 and I was 17 years old. I had decided to “go west” and seek adventure and fortune in Western Australia’s mineral boom, so I set out hitchhiking from Melbourne to Kalgoorlie, where a lot of mining companies had their offices. I’d heard labour was in short supply and was assured if I knocked on a few doors I’d get a job. I just had to travel almost 3,000km to get there first.

With nothing but the $10 I’d borrowed from my brother in my pocket, I was picked up by a truck driver delivering potatoes to every pub along the way to Bendigo, then a priest with his collar on. The priest dropped me off at a big intersection in Adelaide, which he said was a good spot to get a ride. But not long after he left me it started to pour with rain and I’m not sure any of the passing drivers could so much as see me standing there. Or, if they could, they probably didn’t want a muddy young man hopping in their car.

I was getting despondent as traffic started to dry up when lo and behold, a car came along. The guy driving asked me where I was going, to which I answered: “Kalgoorlie” – still 2,000km away. He asked where I was staying that night and I shrugged. He said, “You can come home with me and I’ll drive you out to the highway tomorrow morning.” I gratefully accepted.

We drove about 10 minutes before arriving at a big public housing estate. We went inside a spartan home and into the man’s small bedroom, where there were two single beds. In one, the man’s brother was sleeping. He woke his brother up, told him to move over, and announced they were going to be sleeping top to tail – then offered me his bed, all to myself.

The next morning he cooked me up a hot breakfast of bacon and eggs and, as promised, dropped me back off at the highway. I eventually managed to get to Kalgoorlie and pick up some work.

I’m now in my 70s and have never forgotten that fella. It’s perhaps easy to be generous when you’ve got a lot to share, but means more when someone is willing to give you some of the little they’ve got. I remain humbled by his wonderful act of unselfish generosity.

What is the nicest thing a stranger has ever done for you?

Callout

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