Farewell, Jack Karlson
Brisbane's famous theatrical, lovable rogue has had his last succulent Chinese meal.
The death of Jack Karlson — the Brisbane man who launched a thousand memes when he was arrested outside a restaurant in Chinatown — has brought back some fond memories for this former Fortitude Valley denizen.
Karlson’s eventual rise to internet fame began in October 1991 when reporter Chris Reason and a Channel 7 News crew happened to be in the Valley when they noticed an altercation.
Karlson was being pushed into a police vehicle by a couple of officers, but he wasn’t going quietly. They started filming.
Addressing the media, Karlson boomed: “Gentlemen, this is democracy manifest”, then added: “What is the charge? Eating a meal? A succulent Chinese meal?”
He also alleged that one of the officers had touched his penis.
Years later, somebody realised that the footage of Karlson being arrested was perfect fodder for social media, and a popular meme was born.
At one point, the internet mistakenly identified him as Paul Charles Dozsa, a Hungarian man well known for leaving restaurants without paying.
It transpired that Karlson, who operated under other names, was an actor who’d spent time in jail for relatively minor offences.
He resurfaced in the mainstream media a few months ago to help promote a documentary being made his life, which will screen next year.
Director Heath Davis told 7News: “There really is only one Jack Karlson and he truly was Australia’s last larrikin. We’ve lost an icon today.
“Our thoughts and prayers go out to his beloved family today, especially his daughter Heidi, niece Kim and nephew Karl.
“Jack’s spark will forever live on, much like his infamous viral video. I’ll be having a beer and succulent Chinese meal in his honour tonight. You can finally rest in peace, mate.”
While I never met Jack Karlson, I knew a few characters back in the day. Fortitude Valley — where I worked for most of the 1980s and early 1990s (some of those years alongside Chirs Reason) — was full of them.
At the Daily Sun, which was based in Brunswick Street, we used to call them “Colourful Valley Personalities” (CVPs).
Fortitude Valley was a curious place in the 80s: a fading alternative city hub (Myer, Woolworths, Target, Coles and the now-defunct Waltons, all had a presence there), where one could enjoy not just succulent Chinese meals, but pasta at Lucky’s and Giardinetto (it’s still there!), and huge plates of animal protein at the California Cafe.
It was also, in some parts, a safe place for the gay community and up-and-coming bands and, in other sometimes overlapping parts, a dangerous place where people dealt in sex, drugs, and illegal gaming.
Even though I spent many years on the night shift, I rarely worried about my personal safety, even wandering the streets at 1.30am. Maybe I was lucky.
In my experience, the CVPs were just as likely to be around during the daytime than the wee hours.
There was “Mister Magoo”, a quiet eccentric who looked like the cartoon character, and an amiable bloke called Col, who was often seen propping up the bar at the Empire and, later, Dooleys. And there was a woman who strolled naked up and down Brunswick Street shouting abuse at random strangers.
The Sun snappers had plenty of pictures of her, none of which ever found their way into print.
And then there was “Happy Jack”, who drank at various pubs, often getting punted by management from one to the next. He was often seen on the hill at the Gabba, wearing a sombrero as he cheered on the cricketers. He was also an over-excited supporter of the Valley Diehards rugby league team.
Jack liked to shake the hands of people he didn’t know, some of whom had concerns about his standard of personal hygiene.
My guess is that there was a deep sadness behind the “Happy” facade. The story goes that his body lay in the morgue for two years until a whip-around was held to pay for a funeral, which was attended by some of the state’s sporting greats.
What social media would have made of Happy Jack, I can only guess.
At the time of writing, I don’t know whether there are plans for a funeral for Jack Karlson, but I know many who never met the man will mourn his passing along with his family and friends — including Stoll Watt, one of the police officers who arrested him.
Is this the end of an era? Perhaps there are still a few larrikins out there, in the Valley and beyond. I certainly hope so.
Heath Davis’s documentary The Man Who Ate A Succulent Chinese Meal: The True Story of Jack Karlson is due for release in early 2025.
Nice yarn Brett ... we were blessed to have shared the Valley with some weird and wonderful characters. Miss those days....