BY SALLIE SATTERTHWAITE
sallies@juno.com

Prince Philip, I understand, came to visit Newnan, Ga. earlier this year while I was on his side of the Pond.

I think he was opening a mattress factory or something. I was sorry to miss him. I've always rather admired him as a rare man who seems content with his role as royal poodle: intelligent, dignified, and not likely either to embarrass or be embarrassed.

Rather a nice accessory to go with Her Majesty's ever-present handbag. In Germany, desperate for some news, any news, in English, I picked up The Times at a train station. (We say “The London Times” or “The Manchester Guardian.” They are, however, The Times and The Guardian, sans geography.)

That's not where I read that the Duke of Edinburgh was in Coweta County. But I did find in The Times a perfectly delightful story, illustrated by a large black and white photo of the royal couple shaking hands thrust through a sea of flowers, cameras and small Australian flags. The queen is attired in white gloves, a flowered suit, a triple strand of pearls and a straw hat with a curly bow on it. And carrying her white pocketbook.

The duke is behind her (of course), also reaching for a hand. Both wear gracious smiles, although his does look a tad less fixed than hers.

Here's what was happening: Last November Australia voted on whether to retain a constitutional monarchy as its government, and to keep the queen as head of state. The reporter, Alan Hamilton, did not say by what margin the referendum passed nationwide, but the tiny Outback town of Coolabah voted 92 percent in favor of monarchy, and felt so pleased with itself that the whole town decided to meet the queen when she visited in March.

Now Coolabah — named for the tree celebrated in “Waltzing Matilda” — is 80 dirt miles from Bourke, which is so far out in the northwestern bush of New South Wales, more than an hour's flight from Sydney, that its name has passed into Australian idiom. Where we'd say “out in the boondocks,” the Aussies say “back o' Bourke,” the far side of nowhere.

Bourke itself is “a small Outback town of clapboard houses, wooden sidewalks, wandering dogs and 3,600 souls, one-third of them aboriginal,” Hamilton wrote. So when Buckingham Palace announced that HRH would include Bourke in her brief tour of Australia, Coolabah was ecstatic and invited her to visit the town that voted so overwhelmingly to keep her on.

But Coolabah was just too far away for a head of state on a tight schedule. So Coolabah came to Bourke, or, at least, 92 percent of Coolabah came to Bourke — by bus. And that would be...? That would be 46 loyalists. The four dissenting voters were invited in a spirit of community friendliness, but opted to stay home.

A retired public servant named Colin Watson, 50, organized the pilgrimage, and carried a framed photograph, the official portrait of the queen taken when she ascended to the throne in 1952. (The Brits capitalize Queen, by the way, but the Associated Press Stylebook advises American journalists to do so only when her name follows.) “We have a picture of her displayed in all our public buildings,” Hamilton quotes Watson.

And just how many public buildings does a community of 50 voters have? “Two stores and a pub, mate,” Watson says proudly. The Queen, er, queen nearly missed the Coolabah delegation as they waved frantically and held her portrait aloft behind a crowd barrier, but an aide steered her toward them just in time.

“We voted 92 percent for you,” Marie Norris, 67, said proudly, as she pressed a rose into the royal glove. “I know,” replied the queen. “You've come specially today, have you?” “Yes,” they chorused, raising cameras in unison to capture the historic moment. “Within half a minute, the Queen of Coolabah and All Australia had moved on,” Hamilton writes.

“Mrs Norris [the Brits also leave periods off courtesy titles like Mr and Mrs] could think of only one thing: `Hasn't she got beautiful skin?'”

Bourke officials rather thought the queen had come to see their town, not Coolabah, partly because of their achievements in reducing racial tension between whites and aborigines. A local radio station promotes aboriginal language and culture, and the grade school has integrated successfully. Hamilton records a conversation between HRH and a 9-year-old at the Bourke school: “Did you bring your crown with you to Australia?” “No, I didn't,” the queen replied. “I can't get it out of the Tower of London; it lives there.”

But the Coolabah delegation was so happy with the day that they were planning a celebratory goat race back home — a Coolabah tradition, no doubt. Hamilton reports, “Mr Watson did not get a word in [with the queen] but, clutching his fading portrait, he enthused: `She really did come and see us. She couldn't fly into Coolabah, but she made the effort to come to the nearest airstrip; we're well satisfied.” A week earlier, Prince Philip was eating Sprayberry's barbecue in Coweta County, Ga. I bet he remembered that when he heard about the goat race.

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