This year I am packing up my home to move into an independent living unit at the Cooinda age care facility.  It is the year for sorting out precious from non-precious objects, for letting go.   The precious object ‘collection’ chosen for this story is a document tube, containing three rolled up pieces of parchment paper with waxed seal imprints, usually found on the top shelf of one of my clothing cupboards.  The documents have never been framed, but I’ve always carried them with me.  They are mementos of stages in my life's journey, grounded in what happened before, and leading on to new experiences and horizons.  They symbolically echo the words of my parents, that education could open doors. 

It’s late 1965.  Juggling partying with other students at Oakleigh High School, helping out at home and part time work with studying for my matriculation examinations,  I fill out my preferences for university courses – 1 ‘Social Work’ Melbourne University - if I succeed Legacy will provide some support with fees; 2 ‘Economics and Politics’ Monash University.  If I succeed, I can take up a ‘Studentship’ with the Education Department, meaning greater independence, however I must complete the Diploma of Education after my Economics degree and will be bonded to work for three years in the country.
 
I’m accepted for Social Work, but frustratingly have to wait a year until I’m 19 to start.  Keen to be independent, I decide to take the Bachelor of Economics and Politics at Monash on a studentship.  I don't have the language or higher maths required for Arts - Economics was my favourite subject at school, so I'm fine with this. 

It’s ‘O’ week at Monash University 1966.  I’m sitting in an auditorium with the new intake when the Vice Chancellor asks us to ‘Look to your right, look to your left.  Statistics suggest that one of you won’t be here next year.  Please, take your time with us seriously’…. which I did!  Walking in to my first Economics 101 lecture, it was clear I was one of few female students studying Economics and Politics.  I spend hours in the basement of the Monash Library where the Economics books and journals are to be found, wrestling with reading and formulating the ‘big ideas’ required in to essays to hopefully prove that I understood them. The maths oriented 101, 201 Economics courses prove surmountable with effort; Politics is eye opening, and I thoroughly enjoy units in Economic History, Comparative Industrial Organisation, Agricultural Economics and Comparative Economic Systems.  Study is, of course, interspersed with part time jobs, partying and an introduction to student activism. Monash was considered a ‘hotbed’ at the time!  I graduate as a young, politically enlightened economist, not en route to Canberra, but to spend a further year at Monash.

"Bachelor of Economics and Politics, Monash University.”

It’s 1969.  I find myself, still at Monash, thoroughly enjoying studying Education, from Philosophy of Education and Educational Psychology to my favourites, the ‘Methods of Teaching’ subjects.  Placements at Caulfield North Central School, Springvale High School, Murrumbeena High School, are stimulating.  I find I love working with teenagers, love staff room environments.  However I face a challenge, my first school is to be Heywood High School, 375 k from home, and my boyfriend lives in Melbourne!

"Diploma of Education, Monash University.”

Lots of doors, on lots of classrooms, open as I teach out my ‘bond’ at country schools Heywood near Portland and Yarram High School, before moving back to Melbourne’s Elwood High then teaching in Spain for a year. Those beautiful Spanish doors!  A return to country Victoria at Daylesford Tech High School proves to be one of the happiest times of my life and leads to the opening of other doors through an International Teaching Fellowship to Kamloops in British Columbia, Canada.  A brief stint at Cheltenham High in Melbourne, then five years at Flemington High School, include a part time secondment to teach ‘Methods of Teaching Economics’ at Melbourne University.  The opening of this door leads to my achieving a dream, to teach future teachers.

During this time I almost complete a Bachelor of Education and fast track into the Master of Education… a qualification sadly, still ‘in limbo’.

I never cease to enjoy teaching Year 11 Economics.  Teaching ‘Matriculation’ Economics is always stressful, if rewarding.  (As an aside, often the only woman ‘Commerce’ teacher on the staff, teaching ‘secretarial’ subjects usually fell to me.  Learning to type proficiently while teaching also opened doors – I could work as an ‘office’ temp in London!  It also proved an asset when computers arrived on the scene, as I was able to adapt over time to new technologies and now manage websites!)   

It’s 1992.  A mid-life crisis and concern to work in the areas of social policy and inequality lead me to leave teaching and apply for the Bachelor of Social Work at Melbourne University.  This time I enter a course which is traditional for women, non-traditional for men. I love my diverse home group, with class mates aged from 20 to 60 including clever young Sally, an older man with prison experience, and a number of ‘mid-life’ change students like me.  I pinch myself - 25 years after putting #1 on my end of high school preference sheet, I’m finally studying Social Work at Melbourne University! I flourish academically, and 13 week placements take me to new work environments, Lakeside Psychiatric Hospital in Ballarat, Springvale Community Health Centre in multicultural outer Melbourne. 
 
Life Stage – Mid Life Evidence – Bachelor of Social Work – Melbourne University.

After graduating, more doors begin to open.  I work part time in a poverty related project at Deakin University.  Outreach work for Ballarat Community Health Centre in Daylesford, where I have a miner’s cottage on Wombat Hill, soon expands to a full time role in Ballarat.  Five years later, I shift to North East Victoria to be closer to family.  A year as a social worker at Centrelink, followed by project work, locum drug and alcohol work, then a welcome return to teaching, securing work coordinating Community Services work courses at GOTAFE in Wangaratta and Benalla for the next 12 years. 

Now retired for decade, I still love learning, love sharing knowledge and skills and experiences, still find a comfort zone in educational settings.  I’d secretly love to return to study once again, perhaps finally adding the ‘Masters of Education’ document to my collection of qualifications. Perhaps I could focus on learning in later life?  One can but dream!  I wonder if anyone else has ever completed a ‘Masters’ degree while at Cooinda?
​ 
 
Beverley Lee
March 2023

​The precious objects that I will detail in this story are normally kept in the ‘emergency’ briefcase. That is, the briefcase containing important items such as personal documents, passport, computer backup hard-drive, and other items of importance such as my 30 year service medal from the CFA, my National Medal, and the citation from Benalla Rural City Council for my Citizen of the Year in 2014. The briefcase is the one that you grab when you have a need to urgently evacuate the house.
​
The container that I have brought along today is one of the items in the evacuation briefcase. It contains a number of historic items that are very special to me:

The first badge is the membership for the Wollert and District Youth Club which I joined when I was 14. The club only had two rules; Rule 1. We do not discriminate against anybody based on race, colour or creed. Rule 2. There are no more rules. The club was the oldest in the Victorian Associated Youth Clubs at that time.

The second badge with the VAYC logo on it is the Keystone Award, which I received in 1966 at the age of 18, for my work with youth in the community. The Keystone Award was the highest award in the VAYC and awarded for exceptional work for youth in the community. The container is the one that this award came in, and it has never been removed from its case.

The next badge is my old Keon Park Technical School badge. The moto is ‘diligence and integrity’. I was indeed fortunate to have attended this school, as many of our trade teachers were tradesmen who had returned from WW2 and decided not to go back on the tools, but took up teaching. This was very special for the students, as these teachers did not learn everything they knew from a text book, but had firsthand experience in the workplace and could relay tips and tricks that they had experienced firsthand.

The final item in the collection is the medallion from my days as a Shire Councillor on the Shire of Kilmore for six years, 1979 -1981 and 1985 -1987.  I should point out that during my first term as a Councillor; I was also managing one of the largest Kenworth Truck dealerships in Australia at Footscray. During my second term I was the owner/operator of a Mitre10 store in North Essendon. I was also on the board of Mitre10 Southern Pty. Ltd. which was at that time, the store owner operated co-operative that controlled the Mitre10 organisation.  The controlling interest in Mitre10 is now held by Metcash.

On joining the Shire of Kilmore Council, I was elected Chairman of all of the sub-committees, with the exception of Town Planning. It was deemed inappropriate to have a monopoly. In the initial period there were some financial and operational irregularities detected and the result of this was that the Shire Secretary and the Shire Engineer were both subsequently dismissed, and a CEO appointed. Kilmore was the first municipality in Victoria to take this step.

The CEO was appointed on a performance contract, and this process was later extended to all senior Council employees.  I was involved in introducing a Development Infrastructure Levy which came about after ratepayers had to cover the cost of upgrading supporting infrastructure, following a number of residential developments within the shire. The levy ensured that the developers covered these costs, not the ratepayers.

​I also introduced ‘program budgeting’, or cost/benefit analysis, which was a program designed to give Councillors full details and financial impacts of projects/programs both for the initial cost, the ongoing costs, life expectancy of the project, and the number of ratepayers/residents who benefited. We were criticised on a number of occasions for not taking up Government Grants. When assessed, these grants were for short term political gain and would not meet Kilmore Council’s long term cost sustainability targets.

As a result of writing this summary of my ‘precious items’, I have included a print of this document in the briefcase, so that family members understand the importance of these items to me.


Barry O’Connor.
March 2023.

​I tend to hang on to things that were gifts. They don’t have to be fancy or expensive, if they were given to me, or made for me, I treasure them dearly. I have a somewhat wonky mini vase made by my niece at age 10. I love it. I have a hand made wooden sailing ship made by my Auntie and her boyfriend with driftwood we had collected on the beach. Another favorite would be a statue of a clown made for me by an Auntie who was an artist and sculpturer. I also have a drawing made by another niece at around 8yrs old. Plus, a crochet rug my baby sister made at age 15. I also have the bible I mentioned in my first story, given to me when I attended the coronation of Queen Elizabeth.

​​Bob sets require an explanation to the younger readers, so one picture, a thousand words. Below is an advertisement that shows the toy. The mouse holes were numbered and one scored points by passing a ball through the gap, or double points by cannoning off the black. There rules are various and flexible and the largely depend on the distance the ball has to travel to multiply one’s score.

1959 and as an 8 years old, I’m left alone in the house for a while with the strict instructions not to get the bob set out, but to play in the yard. Mum and my brothers leave…….and who’s to know if I played bobs or not? One is not going to dob oneself in! Herein lies the story, the difference between tacit disobedience and reality.

The bobs were set up in the lounge room, with the back board near the gas fire. Normally played in the hallway, but a 90 turn, shortened the course for a “long” game, so the lounge room it was. On the tiled gas front stood a sentential vase, just another decorative object in the home. Things were going swimmingly with me competing in the “world championships.”

An eight year old does not do a risk assessment. Actions versus consequences, probability and actuality. What are odds? What are odds indeed! Well, the inevitable happened after a lusty shot, the wooden ball aerially departing the safety rails and over the mouse holes directly into and smashing mum’s vase. The vase was beyond redemption and so was I. Packing the bobs away and placing the vase shards in the unaffected base, all I could do was wait my fate.
 
What happened when mum returned is etched in my memory and is one of those moments when wishing the clock could be turned back.

Mum was beside herself with grief and her emotional response was something I had never witnessed or seen in a parent. Two years earlier, mum gave birth to my sister, Jennifer, who did not live out the day due to a hole in the heart. Of all the sympathy cards, mum’s Aunty Susannah Tregenza [nee Beauvais 1886-1966] sent her the vase. This vase had a very special place in mum’s memories and grieving process – and I unlocked the tender grief all over again. It was her most precious object.

I could have sat on sixpence and dangled my legs over the side.

Well, the bobs disappeared forever, but I’ve no memory of how mum recollected her composure in the passing days. Redemption came in 1976 when our only daughter was born and named Jennifer. When we took Jenni to see mum and dad for the first time, mum gave me a hug and thanked me for honouring her own only daughter. She said with a wry smile that it made up for breaking the vase, the only time it was ever mentioned.

 
Graeme Morris
March 2023

​​My most treasured possession is the Crystal Cabinet which has been in my Dad’s family for many years.   As money was short during the war years, it was given to my Dad and Mum as a wedding present from my Grandmother.

​It originally came from Coventry when my Grandmother immigrated and settled in Bentleigh. I remember it being in our family home in Bentleigh.  It was moved to Cowes, Phillip Island when my Dad retired, to Coolum in Queensland when my parents moved there in their later years, was put on a transport truck and arrived back in Victoria at my house when I lived at Winton and is now happily residing in my current home in Benalla.

I remember sitting crosslegged with my two younger brothers in front of it in the dining room in Bentleigh, making faces into the mirror at the rear of the cabinet.   It was the one item in the house in which we were not to open or clean.   

On the top shelf was my parents' Royal Doulton ‘Raby Rose’ 8-piece dinner setting with matching tea set. Mum had purchased it prior to her marriage as part of her Glory Box. ​

When it was used on special occasions we were so careful not to break anything.   Those meal times were anxious times for us as children.    

On the second shelf was the Stuart crystal dessert set, sugar, cream with matching crystal spoon, a crystal cruet set with tiny silver spoons.
 
The lower shelf housed the Terrine set given to Dad following the death of his mother, as well as other nick nacks that had been collected over the years.
 
Following a visit to an antique fair, I rang my Mum and asked if she knew how much her Royal Doulton ‘Raby Rose’ dinnerset was worth as I had priced an identical cup with saucer and plate at $55.00.   Mum told me that my youngest brother had brought a friend of his around who was ‘into antiques’ who gave them $150.00 for the complete setting, adding that he was coming back in a couple of weeks to pick up the Crystal Cabinet for $100.     I was angry at them being taken advantage of and spoke to my Dad, telling him that I would like to have the Crystal Cabinet (I would pay them for it if I had to) when they no longer wanted it.  He agreed that it should be kept in the family.  Mum was not very pleased with me and contacted my other brother, who agreed with my Dad. It was part of our family.
 
Over the years when I visited my parents in Queensland my Dad would suggest that I take a couple of items he said he treasured and had put away for me to bring home.     I kept these items stashed under my bed as I did not have the room to keep them and I was so frightened I would break them.
 
When my Dad was in the early stages of Dementia, he rang me one day and asked if I would be home on a certain date as he was sending me a present.      A large truck arrived and inside was the Crystal Cabinet lovingly wrapped in paper and cardboard, waiting to be unloaded into my home.    I was so excited.
 
I rang my Dad and thanked him for remembering our discussion.  He said that he wanted to make sure that it was sent to me before he forgot about it.
 
When putting the precious items he had given me to bring home over the years into the Cabinet I realised that, apart from the Dinner Set and some of the nik naks, I had many of the items that had resided in the Cabinet when it was in Bentleigh and Coolum.  This brought tears to my eyes and I said a prayer of thanks to my Dad.    The main addition that I have added to the Crystal Cabinet is the set of War Medals my Dad earned in the Second World War.
 
I then sat in front of the Cabinet, crossed my legs and started making faces into the mirror at the back of the Cabinet. It is now home and my sons agree that it will stay in the family in the future.


Heather Wallace
March 2023

​​​Sometime after his parents died, my Dad gave me their wedding ring, the one Poppa gave to Nana in 1917 on their wedding day, the one she wore for 65 years, the one I wear now. For me it is a tangible link to my grandparents and a prompt to the memories of a special summer in the mid ‘60s.

Summer school holidays can seem to drag on forever; my brother, two sisters and I could be quite a handful, so maybe Mum needed a break, or maybe this was a special treat for me, but sometime in January I was packed off to spend a few days with my Nana and Poppa.

​My grandparents lived in Bowen Street Camberwell, a lovely weatherboard house on the high side of the road. The front fence was made of stone in slate grey, rusty ochre and warm brown, the smooth faces contrasting with the rough sandy mortar which in some places held moss and in others became a highway for ants. Towards the right the sloping concrete driveway led up to the now empty, cavernous garage. But we turned left before reaching that, up two steps onto the porch which had been glazed to create an inviting sunroom. Nana was there to greet us - this was going to be a very exciting adventure – a sleepover, just me and my teddy.

The evening routine was very different to home; it was organised, sedate and quiet, a nice change but I felt a bit uncomfortable. After the evening meal I helped Nana with the dishes, put on pyjamas and climbed into bed. Not used to being by myself, the dark and the quiet were intimidating but I bravely cuddled teddy and listened to the grandfather clock, ticking away the time.

Monday was washing day. Nana had a large copper in an enclosed area off the kitchen and she grated soap which dissolved in the hot water. The first batch of clothes were shoved under the water with the aid of a thick wooden stick. After stirring and soaking the material was lifted out and transferred to one of the concrete troughs, then dunked into the rinse water to remove the suds. The heavy mass was put through the mangle, a pair of rollers that were operated with a big handle (which required more muscle than I had) and dumped into the laundry basket; this process was repeated many times in the hot, humid laundry. Handing out wooden clothes pegs to Nana at the washing line soon lost its appeal, so I wandered off to explore the garden.

​One afternoon Poppa invited me into his garage which was lined with wooden shelves holding tins and boxes neatly stowing many treasures. We found a tin of white paint and some paintbrushes. Poppa showed me how to stir the paint to mix the layers which had separated over time. He decided it needed thinning with some turps, so I needed to stir it some more. Finally, we could begin painting the wooden fence that ran along the driveway. He instructed me on how the paint preserved the timber as well as looking good. At the end of the exercise there was a fair bit of paint on me that wiping with a rag dipped in turps didn’t clean off. I was sent inside to Nana who decided a bath and scrubbing brush was needed.

Another day, we had a shopping trip with Nana that involved catching the bus at the stop a few houses along the street. I was allowed to give the conductor the coins which went into his leather pouch.  He dutifully wound the handle on his ticket machine and it spat out a paper ticket. I was impressed that he could maintain his balance walking up and down the aisle while the bus drove to the next stop. Nana pointed out the lawn bowling club that Poppa went to. The Camberwell market was crowded with shoppers pushing through the narrow lane between the market stalls. Nana bought various items, mostly wrapped in paper which were then stowed in a string bag.

Nana also taught me to crochet, although I didn’t master the skill on this occasion, I made a start and on other visits would bring unfinished pieces, with many mistakes, to continue the lessons. Nana made many colourful crocheted rugs; there was one on my bed which kept me warm but also amused as I wove my fingers through the holes and admired the colours and patterns until I became sleepy.

I can’t remember how long I stayed but too soon it was time to go home – I had mixed feelings of relief, as I was young and homesick, conflicting with regret that my adventure had come to an end.

Although I often saw my grandparents at family gatherings and on Sunday afternoon visits, that summer, when I had Nana and Popa all to myself, gave me a strong connection to them both.


Phiona Rhodes
March 2023

A very precious object in my possession is my Order of Australia Medal, OAM, which was awarded to me for ‘Service to the Community of Benalla’.

As I have often stated, Benalla is my adopted home town.  So it is a great honour to have received the award.

As a youth in 1950 I came to Benalla for my first job.  In addition to the job I found, for the first time in my life, loving home environments with the Hernan family, and also the Elliott’s with whom I boarded.

The Hernan’s, John, Francie and their seven children, accepted me as one of their own.  I proposed the toast to each of the seven siblings on their 21st birthdays, and, for innumerable years, acted as ‘Santa’ at the Hernan Christmas celebrations.

Frank and Eileen Elliott cared for me and entertained me with a surprise 21st birthday party when they provided for me and all my friends at St. Joseph’s Hall in 1953.

In Benalla I have met and married my loving wife; have built our own home; have raised and educated our four wonderful children who all do us proud and have been responsible for a loving family life.  I have gained my accounting qualifications and experienced a successful business life; I have enjoyed 60 years on the bowling green; I have made many remarkable friends; and I enjoy a relaxed retirement.

And so, forever, I have felt an underlying indebtedness to Benalla.

I certainly had a debt to repay.

How could I do that?   …….   By Community Involvement!

And so, over a lifetime, I have volunteered for in excess of 30 executive positions, (spanning anything up to 43 years); up to 15 annual honorary audits and account reviews; and a few doorknocks for not-for-profit organisations.

As a 90 year old, I now do only 4 or 5 account reviews, and they are a year to year proposition.

Have I repaid my debt to Benalla? …..   Hopefully!!

The first indication of the Order of Australia award came in September 2011 when I was doing a door knock for the National Heart Foundation. I called on a neighbour who gave me a generous donation and, over a cup of tea, told me he would like to nominate me for an Australia Day award.

This moment had slipped my mind until April 2013 when I received a letter from the Governor General, which led to an announcement on the following Queen’s Birthday:  I had been awarded an Order of Australia Medal, OAM. 

The announcement created a lot of publicity and congratulations all round.

I hadn’t realised that there were so many politicians in the surrounding districts.  They all befriended me.

In the long haul I received more than 80 phone calls, 50 cards and letters, and so many congratulations in the street, at church, at Rotary, U3A and at my two Probus clubs.

In my acknowledgement at Rotary I remarked ”some people in my position might say that they “feel humble”; …. “humble be damned, I feel proud” … I said.

Which indeed I was!

A replica of the medal hangs, in a frame, on my kitchen wall.

It is, indeed, “an object …. precious to me.”
​
 
Ray O’Shannessy
March 2023

I have a very special Golden Object that travels with me now and has done for nearly fifty years. It is very precious to me, valuable both monetarily and sentimentally, since it is ‘One of a Kind’. And it’s mine.

Back in 1973, I was a Truck Driver, still single, living and working from day to day. It was early December, time to start writing my Christmas cards to family and friends. I pulled up near a Newsagent, went inside and bought a packet of twelve Christmas cards, with envelopes. I never had that many friends in those days. I drove to a factory to load the truck for the afternoon delivery. It was lunch time for the staff when I arrived, so I had my lunch sitting in the truck and wrote my Christmas cards.

I sat quietly eating my lunch, writing my Christmas cards and listening to the radio. I had nearly an hour to do this, so there was no rush.

When I had finished writing my cards, I found I had an extra envelope in the pack.

At the same time there was an announcement on the radio telling people to write their name and address on the back of an envelope, send it in to the station, to be in the running to win a nice watch and also go into the draw for a cruise.

Why not, I thought, I’ve won an envelope, I could win a watch or even a cruise.

Time went by.  I was visiting some friends one day and their young daughter said “I heard your name on the radio the other day”. I said “Oh, yeah”, she said “You won a trip or something”.  I said, “That’s news to me… oh yeah, I remember filling out an envelope for something like that”.   We left it at that.

A few days later, I got home from work, it was my birthday, 23rd December 1973.
I went inside and Mum, who was standing in the lounge, said, “Here’s your mail, but I want you to open this one first”. She handed me a letter which she was holding in her other hand behind her back.

Yes, it was from the radio station. Now I was excited.

I opened the letter and read that I had not won a cruise or even a watch.

But I had won a Gold Nugget with an Eighteen Carat chain.

All I had to do was visit the Radio Station in the city, prove my identity, show the letter and I could collect my prize.

Which I did in the New Year.

They told me, if I went down the road to the Australian Bullion Company, they would authenticate my nugget for me.

I did that, my nugget was stamped on the back with the letters ABC.  It was authenticated.

It just goes to show how, by having that extra envelope, and not many friends, you soon tend to make a few extra friends very quickly.

Phil Hughes
March 2023 ​

From this workshop were designed and crafted, among many other things, including a surfboard, a boat, the family caravan etc ……
.
And, most memorably, a bone that fitted through my nose, providing me with automatic status as king of the cannibals in our school play.

It was after moving to Dangar Island on the Hawkesbury River, to open a post office and general store, that my dad’s muscular dystrophy symptoms began to appear.

When the family moved to Port Macquarie, his symptoms worsened. For a while he was able to run a small business hiring out costs and strollers and then a fish and chips shop. Unfortunately, ‘his roll your own’ smoking combined with his muscular dystrophy, led to circulation problems and ultimately a leg amputation.

It was after this point that my table was crafted by him.  He also was an early adopter to the PC and managed a number of databases and spreadsheets for the community. He took to leather work and weaving in addition to miniature artwork.
 
My parents, for their final move together, retired to Bribie Island, north of Brisbane. It was here while, on the flat that he ‘exercised’ walking his dog beside his electric wheelchair. He entertained the local kids with stories about he lost his leg as a result of a shark attack.
​
Previously, at Port Macquarie, my dad wrote his autobiography.

For many years I carried a sense of my dad’s disappointment that his only biological son, had shown no aptitude from a very young age, any interest or ability to work with his hands.

A few years after my dad’s death, I provided a copy of his autobiography to my cousin, the son of my dad’s older brother.

Within a few days he replied very grateful. As he explained, it was the result of my dad’s influence, that he, Owen, became a builder.

And now to the present ...
​
After nearly a year I am finally establishing a morning routine.

As early as I can manage it, the day starts with a cup of tea and toast followed by a two kilometer walk around the lake.

Refreshed, I can then begin a 20 minute period of contemplation and prayer.  As I light my candle on top of my moment table, I can feel at peace and connected. 

​

Graham Jensen
​March 2023