Jock Orr was friend to the birds in the Square

Press, 19 July 1988, Page 1

Jock Orr was friend to the birds in the Square

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Friends of John Hastings Orr will gather in Hillmorton tomorrow to walk the last few steps with the Christchurch identity who became known as the Birdman.

On most days, partly sighted Jock Orr, aged 79, would make the trip from the Royal New Zealand Foundation for the Blind’s Fernwood hostel in St Albans to feed the seagulls of central Christchurch.

Mr Orr, captured in countless tourist pictures as he hand-fed the gulls, died in Princess Margaret Hospital last Friday. An old friend said he had a sudden bad turn and was taken to hospital the night before.

Mr Orr was easily identified as one of Cathedral Square’s eccentrics, but he was also a man of unsuspected talents. Mr Brian Barry, now retired, knew him from the early 1960 s when Mr Orr had a oneman window-cleaning business and cleaned shop windows in Beckenham and Spreydon. Mr Barry had a delicatessen shop in the area.

“He was a most intriguing man,” said Mr Barry. “He used to ride the best-kept bicycle I have seen in town.”

The cycle had large batteries in its saddlebags, to run the radio equipment that was attached to it, and the 6in television set mounted on the handlebars.

“This was back in the 19605, remember. He was like a

travelling space ship. He could tune in to just about anywhere in the world.

“He would stop in the shopping block and let the kids have a look at the television. It was like the Pied Piper of Hamelin.” When the bicycle got too much for him, Mr Orr transferred the equipment to a tricycle. He used to stay at a boarding house in Beckenham, but in November, 1972, he had to move into the Foundation for the Blind hostel. “It was a great pleasure when we found he had found a new little niche as the Birdman,” said Mr Barry, who would pass the time with Mr Orr when he saw him in Cathedral Square, often festooned with his bird friends. “I don’t know why he fed the birds. He was basically pretty lonely, and obviously he struck some sort of rapport with, them. I imagine seagulls would be hard to get on with.” Among the layers of clothing he wore, Mr Orr would carry several radios to continue his habit of tuning in to stations throughout the world. “He had an extraordinary interest in international politics,” said Mr Barry. “He could give you a quick summing-up of any political situation, anywhere in the world, and a lot of times he was uncannily right.” Mr Orr’s eyesight was very poor. He was convinced the glare off the glass from his

window-cleaning days had caused the deterioration. He was a tourist attraction, and Mr Barry recalls seeing him carrying on three-way conversations with Japanese, American and Australian visitors in the Square. He was born in New Zealand in December, 1908. He had a

brother, who worked in the Ohai coalmine, who died a few years ago. “He was an eccentric, quaint, really decent old fellow who gave Christchurch a little bit of colour,” said Mr Barry. “He was an old straightshooter, and has left a big gap with his passing.”