Tucked away in the folds of Pine Mountain, there’s a man whose life has been shaped not just by timber—but by the stories that live within it. Kevin Ahearn is more than a woodworker. He is a historian of hands and heart, a craftsman of memory, and a salvager of both timber and tales.
His story begins, in part, with a scent, probably why we both align!
"I was about nine years old when I first smelled fresh cut timber," Kevin recalls. "My grandfather was cutting ironbark fence posts at his farm in Rosevale." That smell—sharp, earthy, unforgettable—vanished from memory for decades until, during a clay modelling course in his 40s, the scent returned as others in the class carved wood. "Suddenly the memories came rushing back. That was it. I was hooked."
But his journey into timber wasn’t just born from nostalgia. It came from need. After a serious work injury, Kevin was searching for healing—physically and emotionally. Wood became therapy. Purpose. A way forward.
"I couldn’t afford cedar or beech," he laughs. "So I got a salvage licence and went into the ranges near Killarney in an old HQ ute." The land had been logged decades before, but what was left behind—the discarded, the overlooked—became Kevin’s treasure. Rose mahogany was his favourite: the colour, the grain, the scent.
It was on one of those drives, heading home over Spring Creek Mountain, that Kevin met Harold Godwin, a farmer cutting firewood. Kevin soon gained permission to salvage timber from the land—what followed was over 45 years of respectful, ethical collecting. Kevin never felled a living tree. Everything he’s made has come from what others left behind.
And it wasn’t long before the timber started speaking to him—not literally, but through the stories of the people who once worked it.
"I’d meet old timber getters—some of the last of their kind. Their stories were vanishing. I felt like someone had to write them down."
That decision led to a daunting project: hand-writing and self-publishing books about Queensland’s timber pioneers. With no computer skills, and while living with ADHD and dyslexia, Kevin threw himself into the work. Hours in the State Library, phone calls, letters, long road trips, and handwritten interviews became the foundation of his first book: From Crosscut to Chainsaw.
It took seven years.
"Once I start something, I can’t stop," he admits. "It’s part of my head. Good and bad."
Kevin has captured stories that would’ve been lost to time. Like Jack Hayes, who he interviewed in a hospital just before Jack passed away. "He was so happy someone took an interest in his life," Kevin says. Or Harold Godwin himself—who had migrated alone at age 15 and later fought behind enemy lines in WWII. Kevin also arranged for Ralph Affleck’s story to be told on national television. While Kevin never appeared himself, he was the reason Ralph's story became one of Landline’s most watched segments.
The humour in his stories is just as rich as the history:
George Sirret, a lifelong bullock driver like his father, once took his team to Holt’s paddock in Mt Crosby to give children from Brisbane a firsthand look at how things were done in the old days. The children learned a few unexpected words that day, but it was George’s dry wit that truly left a mark. When a curious child asked if he was married, George replied, "I was once." The child asked, "What happened to her?" Without missing a beat, George answered, "She told me to choose between her or the bullocks. I still got my bullocks!" Teachers scrambled to explain the remark, but the laughter lingered.
Norm Stimpson’s father, Joe, owned the first car in the Maidenwell district—but couldn’t drive. Determined to teach himself, he practised in their paddocks. One day, forgetting to brake, he drove straight through the back wall of the shed. His sons, recognising a pattern, began stacking hay bales at the end of the shed to soften future crashes. From then on, Joe would arrive home shouting "Whoa, whoa!" like his bullocks, but more often than not, he forgot to brake—and into the hay he went. The shed was patched up more times than they could count.
Once a Bullockies Dream - all carved from Timber
Kevin’s work isn’t just nostalgic—it’s tactile. His carvings are found in homes across the world, from London to America to Marburg. One lives in the Stockman’s Hall of Fame. Another—a saint—rests in a local church. One of his most surprising commissions came from nurses at St Andrew’s Hospital, who asked him to carve a range of Gynaecological tools in red cedar as a gift for a retiring obstetrician.
In recognition of his work, Kevin was awarded the prestigious Dame Mary Durack Outback Craft Award—a rare and fitting honour for someone who has given so much to preserve the spirit of regional Australia.
Today, Kevin remains humble. He hopes people find joy in his work. That maybe they’re inspired to create something themselves. And above all, that we don’t forget where we came from.
"There were families here before us," he says. "Kids like yours, living happily in their little worlds."
Events Honouring Kevin Ahearn:
This April and May, Trevallan Lifestyle Centre is honoured to host Kevin Ahearn:
Kevin’s Morning Tea – Saturday 26 April (includes morning tea, artist talk, and timber display) – $15
Kevin’s Timber Art Show – Opening Night Saturday 17 May (free entry, booking encouraged)
Come and witness the legacy Kevin has carved—not just in timber, but into the heart of Queensland history.
To book or learn more, visit our Events Page or check out our Blog on Meet The Maker