When we came home from our Grandma’s one of the fish was dead. My sister cried her eyes out. I don’t know why. She never liked it.

She kept saying – I knew all weekend something had happened. I told you.

She had told us. Told us until we were sick of it. She never shut up. She hadn’t wanted to go to Grandma’s for the weekend. Mind you she had always thought she knew more than anyone else. She was always telling everyone else what to do. When it became true she thought she could predict the future. No one really took any notice of her. I ignored her.

But she was always making predictions.  She even wrote to the newspapers. They even printed what she said.  "Young girl predicts future" was the headline.  They wrote about what she had predicted – my sister was certain something was going to happen to Princess Diana. She had written to Princess Di telling her and received a reply. The paper printed both her letter and the reply, which was on Buckingham Palace Stationery. The paper made a big deal about this – can you believe it they said – a reply from Buckingham Palace itself. As it was the reply was not from Princess Di but from her Lady In Waiting. It said the Princess had taken note of what she said and wished my sister well. My sister always said Princess Di was not allowed to reply herself. That’s why the reply came from Buckingham Palace and not Kensington Palace. The Queen checked on what she was writing and only let ladies in waiting reply. My Sister was always trying to be something special at school. She showed her letter to anyone who would look. When her letter and the reply was printed in the paper my sister thought she was famous. You couldn’t talk to her.

I always liked going to Grandma’s. She always had secret presents for me. She always cooked things that I liked. I was her only Grandson. She always whispered this to me when she hugged me. I could stay in bed until lunchtime. She would even bring me breakfast in bed. She never once did this for my sister. I once wanted a pistol and she bought it for me and didn’t tell my mother. We kept it a secret. I hid it in my wardrobe and only showed it to other boys. I never showed it to my sister.

When we came home, as soon as we came in the front door, I could see that the fish tank had something wrong with it. It was clouded for one thing. The big fish was missing. My first thought was that we had been broken into and I ran to look in the wardrobe but my pistol was still there.
The fish was out of its water lying in the centre of the lounge room on the carpet. It was quite still.

For some reason our mother liked the fish. Normally she hated pets. They dirtied up the house and smelled. She was always passing comments about the smell of other people’s houses. She was always putting her hankie up to her nose when we were down the street. We could never have a dog because they smelled horrible and left fur all over the place. She hated untidiness. Same with cats. But she liked the fish. She even took it out of its tank and put it in a fishbowl which she kept on the table. It’s giving it a holiday she would say. It can look at us and see what we are doing. It’s true – it did seem to swim around looking out of the fishbowl. But I thought it always looked forward to getting back into its tank with the other fish.

My job was to feed the fish. And clean the tank walls. My sister did nothing. His stupid fish – meaning me - she called them when she bought people home. It wasn’t my fish. We had won the fish and the tank in a school raffle. Our mother bought some small fish to fill up the tank because it looked empty and she wanted the large fish to have company. She had to buy a pump to put air into the tank and she complained about it wondering if it was worth it. But in time I think the fish became hers. She always reminded me when to feed them and I got sick of her telling me how to clean the tank properly.

When we found the fish out of water she demanded to know who had let the fish out of its tank.

We said no one did. It got out by itself. Maybe it had wanted to get into the fishbowl. She should have put it in its bowl before we left. Don’t be stupid she said – it would have died over the weekend without the water being changed.

No other fish were dead. But our fish was out of water.

As I said my sister cried for days. I don’t know why. She hated it.

She gave up trying to predict the future after that.
 
 
Neville Gibb

History is littered with “If Only”  Moments.

If only Rene Kink had kicked a goal instead of a point after the siren at half time in the 1977 Grand Final Collingwood might have been too far ahead for North Melbourne to catch up in the second half.

If only Phil Carman had not telegraphed his intention of chasing and hitting Michael Tuck during the last quarter of the second semi he would have been able to play in the Grand Final. But he did telegraph his intentions and he ran after Michael Tuck and hit him and was therefore reported.

These are two personal reminisces that are If Only moments that come to mind.

If only Mozart had not died when he was 35 and had lived until he was 60 or 65 what wonderful music we would have to listen to. Hayden said when he learned that Mozart had died that we would not see his like again for 200 years. Actually he was wrong. We have not seen his like in 300 years and are not likely to see his like in 400 or 500 years. Mozart was a great composer who improved as he got older. It is arguable that his later compositions were better than his earlier compositions. What a pity we missed out on his work after he was aged 35.

Of course all our lives are littered with If Only moments.

In my 20's I travelled to work by tram. Every morning on this tram was an attractive young girl who got on at the same stop as I did and  always sat down the back of the tram. I often looked at her with interest. If only I had summoned up enough courage to approach her my life might have been different. But this is a hypothetical If Only and only subject to speculation.

The big If Only that has occurred in my life was something completely out of my control. When I was 14 my family fostered a 2 year old child who transformed our life. We were not a particularly dysfunctional family but it is fair to say that there were always pockets of unhappiness affecting all members. We did not enjoy each others company and were dominated by a mother who felt women always got an unfair deal. She would have preferred to be a man with men's rights. This little girl shamed us into being happy. My mother forgot about being unhappy and recognised the goodness inside this little girl. All other members of the family fell in love with her. It is fair to say that she affected us all in a positive way. She made us all happy.

The If Only comes with this child's later life. We made desultory inquiries about adoption but her mother wanted her back again. She went to live in Wagga and we never saw her again. Fast forward 50 years and miraculously I was able to track her down. Unfortunately her life had been one long series of tragedies. She had never lived for any length of time with her mother and amazingly had, for a time in her teens, even lived in Wangaratta.  While in Wangaratta she was charged with being in need of care and attention, spending time in goal after having run away from the Aunt with whom she was living at the time. This was only one of many terrible things that happened to her.

If Only we had known her whereabouts we might have been able to offer her some comfort. If only we had been able to keep in touch we might have been able to bring some stability to her life. If only we knew what was happening.

To my mind the big If Only in life concerns If Only people had voted differently. If only 3 or 4 people had changed their vote at various times our country would be different. We can only speculate how different Australia might be if the elections of 1966, 1975 and 2019 had turned out differently. There is no doubt that Australia would be a better place. From time to time changes are required and can only come through a change of government.

If Only people could overcame their prejudices and were able to vote differently.

History is littered with If Only situations.

Neville Gibb
​September 2019

​If only I’d let events take their course what would have happened? Would history have turned out different?
​
There have been times when I intervened in events and therefore may have changed the course of history. I knew when I was doing it I could have been stopping big things but I still did it. I did not take the chance and let things happen naturally. Sometimes I regret it.
 
Once I took two of my children and two of their friends to the football at Waverly. I had my set likes and dislikes and I liked going to the football every week. I thought it would be a good idea to take my children and introduce them to the game. Hopefully they would enjoy it. I started taking them when they were quite young. My children were mostly well behaved but they tended to get bored easily. When he was young Tom especially liked to go for walks during the game. He was more interested in the crowd than the game. I tried to keep an eye on him by making him made him wear his white bike helmet so I could see him walking in the distance. I believed this made it possible to keep an eye on him more or less and because he was wearing a bike helmet he might have been assessed as less of a target. But once I lost concentration and he was gone for more than a whole quarter. He turned up halfway through the next quarter pleased as punch at what he had done and the adventures he had had. I was extremely relieved. I kept a closer hold on him after this.
 
I guess my children must have discussed going to the football with their friends because in time I got requests asking if others could come also. I was reluctant to do this as I know my personality is not suited to controlling other people. Children do not like me telling them what to do. But in time as the children got older I could hardly refuse.
 
When Tom was 12 I agreed to take his friend Chris. Tom and Chris were both 12. The other 2 children in the group were only 7 but looked up to Chris. I found Chris a handful. He was a real leader of children. They would follow him anywhere. I already knew Chris was a bit of an expert at getting under people’s skin but I thought I would be nice. Before we even got to the ground he had caught James’ hand in the car door. It is a fact that Chris was hard to control. I did not feel in control of anything during the game. After the game even less. It was Chris’s idea to run onto the ground just as the siren went and of course all the children followed him. Just after I had corralled them in the centre of the ground it was Chris’s idea to follow the players into their rooms and of course all the children ran after him. They could all run faster than me. I finally caught up with them in a dimly lit room at the end of a long corridor. Brisbane had lost so there were not many people trying to gain admittance into the inner sanctum. The 20 or so waiting people were being held in the bottom corner of this room. The man on the inner sanctum door was at least 10 metres away. Suddenly he pointed at us and made a gesture that one child could come and he pointed to James. Of course Chris started running towards the door but the man made it plain that Chris was not going to be let in but only James could be admitted. No - not you he said – him – and pointed to James. Chris kept going but the man blocked him and sent him back and again emphatically pointed to 7 year old James.
​
Life is full of big questions in hindsight. What if I’d done this or that differently? What if I’d thought more about what I was doing before I did it? Of course we can never know. Maybe nothing would be different. Maybe our fate is entirely set in stone and nothing can change it. But we can certainly have regrets.
 
James started to walk to the door to the inner sanctum. I was placed in a conundrum. What would happen when he went through? When would I get him back? Could I keep the other 3 under control while James was inside?
 
Of course I knew what was in the inner sanctum. I had been there. I had experienced the heady atmosphere and the sense of privilege of being there at much the same age as James. Once to everyone’s amazement my father had suddenly taken me without any permission from my mother into the player’s room of a team that the Great Bobby Rose coached. He just left my mother and my younger brother standing in the concourse and said to her we would be back in a minute. A short word to the doorman and we were inside. How did he do this? What gave my father this mysterious power? I only found out much later although my father never said. The fact was both my father and Bobby Rose were brother Masons. Yes Bobby Rose was a member of the Masonic Brethren and he must have told my father the magic words to effect entry. I have to admit I was wide eyed. Amazed. The pure excitement at being in the great man’s presence in these circumstances was to be experienced and I have never forgotten it. Bobby Rose welcomed my father and made a fuss of him. I could hardly believe what was happening. We did not stay for more than maybe 5 minutes and while it was too long for my mother he placated her by saying he could not disappoint Bobby. My father was an enthusiastic Mason and would have gone to Lodge 5 nights a week if my mother had let him.
 
What was I to do about my conundrum? James had started on the 10 or 15 steps he had to take before the door opened and he would be admitted. Should I allow James this experience of a life time? I had 10 seconds to decide. But I was always a selfish person. And I did not want to take the chance of some disaster happening with Chris who was already abusing the doorman for not letting him in. It wasn’t abuse under his breath either – it was personal. So I called James back and like the obedient dear fellow he was he walked back and by doing so missed the experience of a lifetime. I knew what I was doing and I regretted my actions even then.  I immediately put my hand on Chris shoulder and said we were leaving and he had better behave himself. I didn’t let go of him until were at the car.
 
For myself I am full of regrets. None of which I like to recall but which play on a loop inside my memory. I regret so much in my life. I have done things that were plain stupid. And some have had long lasting results. Some were never foreseen but mostly I could have done lots of things better. Why did I call my wonderful son back? Pure selfishness really. Did I change his life? Who Knows?
 
 
Neville Gibb
September 2017

My career went bung the day I had my biggest triumph. I did not know it at the time but then no one knew. My career was decided by morally corrupt men thinking about what I had done and making decisions which they then kept to themselves until they could do something about it.
 
I had come second in a 200 metre sprint. A special athlete is required to run 200 metres. You have to have enough energy to push yourself through the pain barrier and sustain your speed for perhaps 50 metres more than normal athletes can. You start the race and try to get settled as quickly as possible. You try and increase your pace as you go past 100 metres and then you stretch out as much as you can and after 150 metres you push for the finish. A good 200 metre runner can make up a lot of ground over the last 50 metres.

This is virtually how my greatest triumph occurred. As we went through 100 metres the two fastest runners had been about 2 metres clear and the favourite was able to even increase his speed for 10 metres or so. But then I was able to use my latent strength and started to make up ground on them both. I made up a lot of ground the last 50 metres and I was able to pass one but not the other. I came second. I wasn’t displeased. I was happy.
 
My mistake was that I liked the other two place getters and made a pact with them that from then on we would always be friends. I would stand with them no matter what. They wanted to stand together at the prize giving ceremony to make a statement and I said I would stand with them. The showed me respect by actually telling me what they planned to do. I said we would all stand together. And I did stand with them. I supported their stand. I didn’t exactly say this to anyone else but I did to them. I had made a pact with them. This was a personal thing but somehow the people in authority took offence at this. Not that they said anything threatening to me at the time. But it was reported in the press that they were ashamed of my actions.
 
Four years later I was excluded from the team. I was considered to be in the top five runners for the 200 metres but I was not picked. When I objected and pointed out the lack of logic in not picking someone who was ranked in the top five they responded by saying OK we will not  pick anyone who is ranked below fourth in the world. And they did this. The team was greatly reduced by this action but they did it. They made no explanation for their actions. But they were not questioned by anyone who should have questioned them.
 
Why they treated me like this has never been explained. When I heard that I was definitely not in the team I retired. I turned my back completely. I had had enough. I was being punished for acting morally by people whom were immoral. I didn’t mind saying this. In my private life I had an obligation to act morally at all times and I tried my best to live up to this creed. I often wondered if me being a Salvation Army Officer might have influenced their behavior but it is probably because I said I opposed the white Australia policy. This is not logical but again there is nothing logical in the sequence of events and there is nothing logical in the deep seated racism that exists in conservative Australia.

Forty years later when there were big celebrations concerning athletics lots of people were asked to perform special tasks. That is all except me. Lots of celebrities were invited to take part – even the children of celebrities were asked to perform. People who had power pulled strings so members of their families could take part in proceedings. Celebrations were the order of the day. But not for me. I could not understand but I didn’t complain. My way of doing things was to say nothing and put my faith in a higher authority.
 
I was punished for treating people with dark coloured skin with respect. I treated them as human beings. As I would have treated myself. I believed in their cause. The world is racist and no one should be punished for pointing this out. I think it can be proved that I was.
 

Neville Gibb