My family, such as it was, came to Australia on the Kanimbla in 1924. My father, Edwin Balfour Marple, was one of six boys. My mother, Marion Joan Marple (nee Lewis) died in 1955 aged 54. My father was 71 years when he died in 1969.
I cannot say too much about my grandparents – I never actually met father’s mother or father nor my mother’s parents. I never felt I was at a loss not to have grandparents, perhaps because what you have not got you don’t miss.
The best I can do is to claim a Grandparent-In-Law. My partner of fifty two years, Carole, said recently that I could share her Grandfather, Walter Cartwright.
Walter was a great bloke. A builder by profession, he built the Methodist Church in St. Georges Road, Thornbury, followed up by the Independent Church in Toorak. Besides building, Walter was a Scout for the Brits in the Boer War and in other skirmishes that went on prior to the almighty Great War.
Walter kept up with the political scene by listening to the ABC in his small cottage in Balaclava. I regret that I only made contact in his latter years and did not benefit from his analysis of the political scene. Walter was a great mentor – he was a man of vision and an advocate of fair play.
Walter died at 87 years and is buried at the Benalla Cemetery. In memory of Walter I still have a few of his carpentry tools such as chisels, a bevel and hand saws in our shed. I am sorry Walter passed away, but he leaves a legacy of what a great bloke he was. His memory will live on through those who knew him.
Being a grandparent has made up for not having grandparents. I have had many enjoyable days with my grandchildren, although visits lately have not been as frequent as situations change. Three of the four grandchildren are now in Melbourne attending university.
When Carole and I lived by the beach we took the Grandkids to do fish counts as volunteers for the University of Tasmania. These activities were ‘right up their alley’ as the two eldest went on to do Natural Sciences and Medicine.
The second youngest of the grandkids, Lewis, is very keen on sport, so grandma (Carole) and I bought a family season ticket to support the Canberra Raiders NRL football. This was good fun as Lewis could let himself ‘go’ without parental scrutiny. Mind you not that he would use abusive language, but he could ‘sledge’ and point out to the opposition team where they went wrong. Last weekend I checked this story with Lewis and he agreed it was the time of his life going to the Footy with his Grandpa. So what more could one ask out of life?
Godfrey Marple, April 2015
I cannot say too much about my grandparents – I never actually met father’s mother or father nor my mother’s parents. I never felt I was at a loss not to have grandparents, perhaps because what you have not got you don’t miss.
The best I can do is to claim a Grandparent-In-Law. My partner of fifty two years, Carole, said recently that I could share her Grandfather, Walter Cartwright.
Walter was a great bloke. A builder by profession, he built the Methodist Church in St. Georges Road, Thornbury, followed up by the Independent Church in Toorak. Besides building, Walter was a Scout for the Brits in the Boer War and in other skirmishes that went on prior to the almighty Great War.
Walter kept up with the political scene by listening to the ABC in his small cottage in Balaclava. I regret that I only made contact in his latter years and did not benefit from his analysis of the political scene. Walter was a great mentor – he was a man of vision and an advocate of fair play.
Walter died at 87 years and is buried at the Benalla Cemetery. In memory of Walter I still have a few of his carpentry tools such as chisels, a bevel and hand saws in our shed. I am sorry Walter passed away, but he leaves a legacy of what a great bloke he was. His memory will live on through those who knew him.
Being a grandparent has made up for not having grandparents. I have had many enjoyable days with my grandchildren, although visits lately have not been as frequent as situations change. Three of the four grandchildren are now in Melbourne attending university.
When Carole and I lived by the beach we took the Grandkids to do fish counts as volunteers for the University of Tasmania. These activities were ‘right up their alley’ as the two eldest went on to do Natural Sciences and Medicine.
The second youngest of the grandkids, Lewis, is very keen on sport, so grandma (Carole) and I bought a family season ticket to support the Canberra Raiders NRL football. This was good fun as Lewis could let himself ‘go’ without parental scrutiny. Mind you not that he would use abusive language, but he could ‘sledge’ and point out to the opposition team where they went wrong. Last weekend I checked this story with Lewis and he agreed it was the time of his life going to the Footy with his Grandpa. So what more could one ask out of life?
Godfrey Marple, April 2015
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