​For me, walking into the FCJ Convent during the month of November for a U3A commitment, triggered memories of my childhood school days, when I was taught by the Sisters of Mercy.  The sisters, or nuns as they were universally called, generally were very caring people who greatly influenced our lives.  I must admit that they gave me a solid grounding for a fulfilling life.  There was, however, the occasional nun who did not abide by the motto of being a Sister of Mercy, and one comes readily to mind.
 
Sister Brendan was a robust woman with a ‘farm girl’ background.  She took a dislike to my older brother Basil, who was forthright and occasionally disruptive.  She was always ready to “have a go” at him.
 
The perfect opportunity arose one cold, wet Ballarat day in the school shelter shed where the whole school, all 25 of us, were gathered and doing ‘horse’ exercises (remember the wooden horse and the springboard?)
 
I was only a slip of a kid and Basil, being two years older than me, was somewhat bigger.  Due to my small build and my agility, I was quite versatile with ‘horse’ exercises.  Let’s just say that Basil did not shine at these gymnastics.
 
Sister Brendan, with an ulterior motive, set us up to compete against each other.
 
As was expected, Basil stumbled and tripped, and made a ‘goose’ of himself.  I was in good form, and to Sister Brendan’s glee, outshone and humiliated him.
 
Then it happened!!!  As I was turning to make what would be my last jump, Sister Brendan moved a little closer to the horse.  Too close, as it turned out.  I proceeded with my vault, and with legs outstretched, leapt from the springboard, and my two feet struck her dead centre in the mouth. 
 
Just imagine the hilarity of the boys!
 
As I take time to recall, I can still visualise the imprint of my two dirty sand shoes on her startled face. 
 
Sister Brendan had intended to humiliate Basil and had succeeded.  But in turn, she herself was humbled. 
 
Poetic Justice!  Serves her bloody right!
‘
 
Melbourne Cup Day always triggers further memories for me.  In 1962 I was living in Melbourne and three of my Wodonga friends came down for Cup Day.
 
We had a great day, though not financially rewarding.
 
My friends were staying at the Federal Hotel in the city.  This hotel had a great rapport with country people.
 
After leaving Flemington Racecourse we adjourned to the hotel for our evening meal and the after-dinner entertainment.  Two of my friends each won themselves ‘a heart’ and I loaned them my car to take the girls (both nurses) home to the nurses’ quarters.
Mick (the other friend) and I adjourned to their room to await their return.
 
When they did return, I set out for home, but didn’t make it.  I collided with and electric light pole.  (The SEC later sent me a bill for one hundred pounds!)
 
I suffered a depressed fracture of the skull, a punctured lung, a fractured sternum, 12 broken ribs and brain damage.  I was in a pretty bad way.   (I experienced later sensations which I called ‘brain slides’).  I was placed on Dilantin medication “for the rest of your life”.  However, after 25 years I was off it. 
 
Having told that, I am now pleased to say that, after 60 years, I am hale and hearty.
 
 
Ray O’Shannessy
November 2022
 

​It is with some regret that I admit to having lived 90 years with the feeling of envy.  Envy that I never experienced the love of a mother or the enjoyment of a family life with my five siblings.
 
I was the youngest of the family and my mother died when I was 4 years old.
 
My father was an alcoholic and his sisters determined that he could not adequately care for his family.
 
Consequently my 6 years old brother, Basil, and I were packed off to Villa Maria in Ballarat East. I always regarded Villa as a home for the disadvantaged, even though it was gazetted as a boys’ boarding school.
 
We both remained until grade 8 when we received our “Merit Certificates”. We had not enjoyed our time at Villa. The nuns, the Sisters of Mercy, did not live up to the title of “mercy”.
 
School holidays were spent with Uncle Ned and Aunty Mary Caine at Swanwater. Mary was Dad’s sister, but never showed us any affection. On the other hand, Uncle Ned was a loving man.
 
On receiving my Merit Certificate in 1944 I was deemed to be too small to enter the work force and, living at Caine’s, went to the Swanwater North State school to re-do grade 8 and sit for a scholarship. I was successful and the scholarship entitled me to tutorial and accommodation at St. Patrick’s College, also in Ballarat, where I obtained my “Leaving Certificate”.
 
On leaving the college, I got a job with the Stock and Station firm of Victorian Producers Co-Op (VPC). My first posting was to Benalla, where I became acquainted with the Hernan family, comprising John and Francie and their 7 children. They gave me the “home” which I had never known. Also, the Elliots, who put on a “surprise” birthday party for me on my 21st.
 
I worked for 17 years with the VPC, spent at Benalla (1950 - 1955) St.Arnaud (1955 - 1958) Wodonga (1958 - 1961)  Melbourne Head Office (1961 - 1963) Benalla (1963 - 1967).
 
In St. Arnaud and Wodonga I boarded in hotels.  I succumbed to the ready availability of alcohol and, to my detriment, became a regular drinker. However, I retained my strong work ethic.
 
On the bright side, I joined the Wodonga Bowling Club and have been a lawn bowler, now, for over 60 years.
 
While in Melbourne I was reunited with my older brother John.  I lived the happiest years of my life, up till then, with John and his family.  The exception was that  I suffered multiple internal injuries, a depressed fracture of the skull and brain damage in a motor accident. I still bear the scars.
 
On returning to Benalla, I became re-acquainted with Bernadette and married her in 1967.  We built our own home and raised 4 wonderful children who all graduated at university and are now successful in their chosen fields. We have 11 grandchildren.
 
Now I have the family life which I sorely missed as a child.
 
Also, in 1967 I changed jobs, and, after intensive study, I entered a business partnership as a Chartered Accountant. The partnership survived a fraudulent office manager, and the 1993 floods, and prospered.
 
In 1971 Bernadette and I purchased the Benalla Coin Laundrette as an extension to our business interests. We sold it in 1988 after an interesting 17 years.  In 1986 we, together with four other parties, formed the River Gums Estate syndicate which developed and sold 150 residential blocks in the south-eastern corner of Benalla.
 
Regrettably, in the 1970s I mourned the deaths of my two best friends, Kevin Hernan and Bill Keenan.
 
I retired from business in the year 2000 and became more intense in my community involvement, resulting in an Order of Australia Medal in the Queen’s Birthday Honours list of 2013, “For service to the community of Benalla”.
 
Over a lifetime we have enjoyed holidays and travel in every state and territory of Australia.  In retirement we went on 6 Pacific Island and New Zealand cruises and travelled overseas to the British Isles, Europe, Scandinavia and St. Petersburg.
 
I continued my involvement with the Benalla bowling club, where I am a “life member”, and the Rotary Club where I am a “Paul Harris Fellow” and an “honorary member”.
 
U3A and Probus have played important roles in my retirement, and I am gradually easing out.
 
In May 2022 I celebrated my 90th birthday and now I relax in contentment, and am constantly aware of, and accept, my own mortality.
 
It has, indeed, been a long - and fulfilling - life.
​
 
Ray O’Shannessy      
September 2022

In all of my life I have never made up a “bucket list”.  Of course, I have had dreams; I have had aspirations; but not a Bucket List.
 
I held a clerical position in a Stock and Station corporation for approximately 17 years, and there were many occasions when I felt that I had no future there:  that I had dreams of an alternative career.  I noted that a public accountant in the town had a brand new English sedan car and I felt envious.  Wouldn’t it be nice to be an accountant?  I dreamed, and despite having been counselled by a neurologist to study accountancy and to work for myself I took no action.  Then, totally out of the blue, I was offered a job in an accounting practice!  I jumped at the opportunity and my dream became an aspiration!  I would become a qualified accountant.  I then worked in the practice for 1 months, familiarising myself with the Income Tax Assessment Act and routine accounting.
 
Then I commenced, in May 1968, studying with Hemingway Robertson Correspondence School and the Australian Society of Accountants.  (The Society conducted its own examinations.  I was later to discover that this arrangement would terminate at the end of 1972.)  I set myself a target of studying 20 hours per week and found this to be ambitious.
 
Hemingway’s assignments were very time consuming and, in an effort to do better, I registered with M & M Accounting Services in Flinders Street, Melbourne.  For six months I travelled weekly to the city to attend tutored sessions (6pm to 10pm) for two mathematics courses.
 
By June 1972 I had completed and passed 19 of my 20 subjects.  One subject to become qualified!  Auditing!!  I had till November to study and then sit the examination.  I knew no-one who had passed Auditing on the first sitting!  How would I go!  I studied diligently, but … yes … I failed.
 
The Society had terminated its program of setting examinations!  I was in Limbo!
 
Then fate smiled!  The Society consulted with the Bendigo Institute of Technology (now Latrobe University).  I could do a 12 month course at the Bendigo campus, studying Auditing.
 
This necessitated 3 periods per week.  Monday, Tuesday and Friday.  My employer was obliging and allowed me to be absent for 3 half-days per week.  In consideration I was to work Tuesdays evenings and Saturday mornings.  And so I passed with a pass mark of 87%.
 
My dream; my aspiration had come true.  I was now a qualified accountant.
 
Then, the big test!  Did I want to become “Chartered” and eligible to purchase a share in the practice?  Or was I content to remain an employee?  The advice of the neurologist came to mind: “study accountancy and work for yourself!”.  I decided to become “Chartered”!
 
This decision came with the requirement to study the Chartered Institute’s “Professional Year”.

And so began the most demanding year of all.  I joined with eight other students from Wagga Wagga, Albury, and Wangaratta to do, oh, so many assignments, and meet monthly in Albury (9am till 9pm). Also, the "week-end from Hell"at the Institute's head quarters in Sydney!  The topic - Computers. In the early 1970's computers, to me, were a "foreign" language. Being in my 40s by this time I was the oldest.  The others were in their early 20s and had a better appreciation of technology.  I was physically ill! However, success comes to the battler!  We all passed, and I became a partner in the Chartered firm of Smith O’Shannessy on 1st July 1975.  Thus, the fulfilment, not of a “Bucket List”, but of an “aspiration”.

 
 
Ray O’Shannessy OAM. FCA. CPA.
August 2022

RIGHT HERE, I am in my adopted hometown of Benalla.
 
I arrived here in February 1950 as a 17 year old school leaver for my first job, as a clerk with the Victorian Producers Co-Op (VPC).
 
Within a short period, I had met with the Hernan family, (John, Francie and their 7 children).  They gave me the home which I had never previously experienced.
 
(My mother died when I was 4 years old and I was taken from my father and housed and schooled with the Sisters of Mercy at Villa Maria in Ballarat East.)
 
I settled into Benalla and over time:
 
I married a Benalla girl – Bernadette Cooke

We built our own home,

Operated the Benalla Coin Laundrette for 17 years,

Had 4 children who succeeded at school and obtained secure employment,

Have 11 grand-children,

Studied for 7 years as a “mature aged” student,

Graduated as both a C.P.A. and a Chartered Accountant,

Went into business in an accountancy practice,

Became heavily involved in an honorary capacity in community affairs,

Was awarded an O.A.M. in Queens Birthday Honours of 2013 for that involvement,

Have been a member of the Benalla Lawns Club for 60 years,

Played more than 700 games of Pennant Bowls in the Ovens and Murray Association,

Was a Trustee of the Benalla Cemetery Trust for 43 years,

Have been a Rotarian for 37 years.

 
RIGHT NOW, I am in my twilight years, having recently celebrated my 90th birthday.
 
On looking back, I reminisce on a negative:
 
In the mid to late 1950’s I worked with the VPC in St Arnaud and Wodonga and boarded in rural hotels.  This was a backward move and I suffered from nervous debility.
 
But I can also reminisce on the many positives.  I had a very strong work ethic and can thank a Wagga Wagga neurologist for counselling me to – “study accountancy and work for yourself”.  I also had a loving family life, a successful business career and a relaxing sixty seasons on the bowling green.  I now live a contented, satisfied life.
 
Looking forward, what do I see?  A continuance of this contented life until the approaching, ultimate ….. death….. and the hereafter which cannot be too far away.
 
What of the hereafter?  My Christian upbringing tells me that I can expect retribution for my transgressions or eternal reward for a life well lived.
​
However, seemingly, current popular belief tells me that I can expect a “nothingness”.  This belief contradicts my Catholic teaching of a “resurrection of the body and life ever after”.
 
I wait in anticipation, and am comforted by having read only last week, a book titled “Heaven is for Real”.  It details the experience of a four-year old boy, Colton, who suffered a ruptured appendix and was critically ill.  Despite the adverse odds, (the surgeon thought he was beyond recall), the boy miraculously survived to tell his startled father that he had been “in Heaven, on Jesus’ lap” and told of meeting deceased family members, whose youthful photos he actually identified.
 
The rest I leave up to you!
 
 
Ray O’Shannessy,
15 August 2022

On reviewing the above definitions I have chosen to write of my 90th birthday celebration for Monday 9th May 2022,

The logical day to celebrate was Sunday 8th May, which was also Mother's Day, so booking a venue would have to be considered early in the piece.

For my 70th birthday we had chosen a back yard venue, for relatives and friends, at home.  For my 80th, the family spent a week-end at the lakeside park at Nagambie.  So, something different for my 90th!

The Covid epidemic restricted the choice, so we finally settled on a family gathering for lunch at the Railway Hotel in Goorambat.  Over recent times this veue has earned an excellent reputation.  Furthermore, it is central for all my children.

In February, my son-in-law Heath, who resides in the Goorambat district, made the booking.

Now, to organise the rest of the family!

Grandchildren have the habit of participating in a variety of sporting activities, particularly in football and netball.  It wasn't an easy task to satisfy them all.  Finally, all bar one could be accommodated.  

Sunday, 8th May, turned out to be a reasonably pleasant Autumn day.  My immediate family, plus a niece and nephew, (twins), attended and enjoyed the large meal provided.

Afterwards, they all attended our Benalla home, (just 20 minutes away), for the cutting of the cake and some formalities, before leaving for their homes in Melbourne, Wangaratta, Wodonga and the Yarrawonga Road.

The following day, my actual birthday, Monday 9th May, was again a pleasant day, and Bernadette and I settled down for a quiet day.  We had planned to go to a local coffee shop for a quiet lunch.   (Monday is not such a good day in Benalla for such an outing.)

Just before midday a car pulled into our driveway and, to our surprise, out stepped Anthony, our eldest, who had returned from Melbourne.  On questioning, he said that he had just come up to take us out for lunch on the actual day.  We gratefully agreed and suggested that there might not be much of a selection for a venue.  He suggested the Art Gallery and we warned him against that as it was not likely to be open.  Nevertheless, we got into his car and proceeded to drive down the street.

I was the "doubting Thomas", but he was apparently confident, and on reaching the Art Gallery, Blimey, it was open!  On entering the gallery cafeteria, I was overwhelmed to be welcomed by the other three of my children.  There we were!  My wonderful family unit!  They had all driven back from their respective homes, some distance away, just to be with their "Old Man" on his "Special Day" ... His 90th Birthday.


Ray O'Shannessy
​July 2022

This poem, written as early as the 1870's, (also known under the titles 'The Campfire', 'The Stockman's Pledge', 'the Stockman's Tale', and 'My Brother Ben and I'), was chosen by Ray as representing 'A Friendship Tested'.  A copy with the belongings of Ray's father, Patrick John (Jack) O'Shannessy, an elocutionist who enjoyed writing poetry, and was almost certainly recited by him, circa 1920's.  

The Stockman’s Lament 
 
The campfire’s burning brightly and the coals are glowing red,
The crackling sparks fly upwards as they vanish overhead,
The stockman’s evening meal was over, the damper stowed away,
To stretch our weary limbs, around the fire we lay.
 
“Put on another log, Jack, a good large one, large, that’s right,
And make us up a billy fire, we’ll have it cold tonight.
Before you light that pipe of yours just in my valise,
You’ll find a glass of good three star, there’s a nip apiece.
 
“Come, mate, pass up your pannikin, there’s plenty here you see”.
“No thank you, boss, rather not; no brandy sir for me”
“How is it, Ned, you never drink? I’ve seen you tempted oft,
And if you chance to take a drink, it’s always something soft”.
 
“I once was wild”, the stockman cried, “as any man can be,
And many a hard-earned cheque I knocked down in a spree.
But times have changed, and now, on drink I look with dread and fear,
And were I my story to relate, it will move you all to hear”.
 
For to tell the story of his life, on him we did prevail,
And gathered closely ‘round the fire, to hear the stockman’s tale.
The hardy stockman heaved a sigh, his face was sad and wan,
He knocked the ashes from his pipe, and thus his tale began:
 
Three years ago, or nearly so (how fast the time rolls by)
We were droving on those western plains, my brother Ben and I
It is about my brother Ben I wish to speak the most,
A gay and manly lad was he, as the country round could boast;
But for all his many virtues, he one great failing had,
And that was drink, through cursed drink I’ve seen him raving mad.
But soon he had sober grown, a steady chap was he,
Earned his cheque and sent it home, not knocked it down like me.
 
We were in charge of a mob of cattle, with other stockmen three
And droving through those summer months, right merry time had we.
One night we camped the cattle mob, upon some rising ground
And when they’d steadied for the night, we built the fires around
And then to have a merry time, I for the grog did call,
And soon I was, myself, the merriest of them all.
 
My brother Ben joined in the fun, and many a song we sung,
We made those flying curlews scream and the woods with echoes rung,
But Ben he would not touch a drop, although we pressed him hard,
To all our soft entreaties, pain not the least regard.
 
“Come Ben” I said “don’t be so mean, to stand the odd man out.
You know we’ve seen you drink your share, when the liquor’s been about”
“But Ned, I have not touched a drop these three long years” he said.
“And well you know how crazed I go when stuff gets to my head!”
“Nonsense man, the night is young. Only have one glass!”
“One, only one” the chorus rang and around the grog they passed.
 
He yielded to that fatal glass, which makes me sad to think,
That I the only man in this world, could make my brother drink!
Hour upon hour, glass upon glass, we brothers sat and drank,
Till weary in the night’s caress, in drunken sleep I sank,
How long I slept, I do not know, I woke to sleep no more,
The distant thunder broke my rest, a storm was gathering o’er. 
 
I rose and stirred the dying fire, and tried to rouse the men,
But looking round with beating heart, I missed my brother Ben.
Just then a vivid lightning flash, lit up the gloomy plain,
I saw Ben riding madly by, then all was dark again.
Aloud I cried “Hold hard a while” but his voice came hoarse and hollow,
“Ha ha” he cried, “to death I ride; come on you dare not follow.”
I snatched my whip from off the ground, my horse was standing near,
And as I to the saddle sprang, my heart stood still with fear.
 
He headed for the timbered land with dark and gloom ahead,
And as I spurred with rapid strides, my maddened stock horse fled;
I tried to grasp Ben’s bridle rein, his horse swerved from the track,
And went plunging, through the midnight, with a madman on his back.
His horse not being used to this, tried hard his head to free,
And rearing back, he struck poor Ben against a leaning tree.
 
Dismounting I was on the ground and raised his drooping head,
And as I looked into his eyes, I could not think him dead.
But what a sight to me, the coming dawn revealed,
His blue eyes forever closed, his lips with blood were sealed.
 
Ah! Who will break the news at home and tell his poor aged mother,
The death of her beloved son, my one and only brother?
And to think that I, his murderer, was through ghastly thoughts I shrink;
Killed by the lack of intellect, through the cursed demon drink.
 
On yonder sloping mountainside a lonely grave you’ll see,
All covered in with grass and moss, beneath a cedar tree.
No marble cross or monument this lonely grave doth mark,
But we rudely carved my brother’s name, deep in the growing bark
 
And now my boys take warning all, before it is too late,
Think of the stockman’s awful tale and his poor young brother’s fate,
Say with a will, “I will not drink”, or others will you tempt;
Pass it by, as I have always done, with a silent cool contempt.
 
                                                                                            Author Unknown

The first tree that I ever encountered was a Peppercorn tree in the backyard of my home, “Erin Vale”, in Swanwater.
 
Hanging from the tree was an old car tyre which formed a swing.  Today there are trampolines, in my day there were swings.  Many happy hours were spent swinging from this tree and probably many falls resulting in numerous bruises and gravel rashes.
 
Next, after Mum’s death In January 1937, there was a large Cyprus tree at the Villa Maria Boys Boarding School in the countryside of Ballarat East.  Villa was a converted mansion in a property of approximately 40 acres.  It was run by the Catholic Sisters of Mercy, whose main girls’ convent was situated in a Ballarat East complex.
 
The mansion was fronted by a very large garden, with a circular lawn surrounded by gravel and plants.  Alongside the garden the nuns had installed a large asphalt playground.
 
In the far corner of the playground stood a majestic Cyprus tree.  To me, as a 5-year old, it was huge!

(There were 6 nuns catering for 25 boys ranging in age from 5 years to 13 or 14 years.  I was the second youngest).
 
This tree was a haven for the boys, and one can imagine all of us, at some stage or another, climbing it.  As you got older, you climbed higher.
 
The older boys had an apparatus comprising two opened jam tins connected by a length of cord.  One boy would climb the tree with one jam tin to his mouth and communicate with another on the ground, holding the other jam tin to his ear.  Was this an early telephone??  One can only imagine.
 
From the foot of the tree to the front road was a much lower Cyprus hedge.  The space between the feet of the trees comprising the hedge made for little cubby holes for the boys.  I shared one with Johnno Crotty.  This was our private space—no intruders!!
 
At the end of the hedge was the front fence and the main road.  On the other side of the road was the main railway line between Melbourne and Geelong.
 
Among the kids there were some very unhappy ones, missing a home environment.  It was not uncommon for somebody to suddenly go missing.  The rest of us would form a search part to try and locate the runaway.
 
A group of us would regularly play in the lane and watch the trains go by, particularly the Geelong train.  Why?? One of us, Peter Langdon, had his mother living in Geelong.  There was never any mention of a father. 
 
For some reason we wondered how easy it would be to catch the Geelong train.  Words led to action.  We put all our threepenny pieces together to enable Peter to buy a ticket and planned for him to “run away”, walk the several miles to the Victoria Street tram, then the Lydiard Street tram to the railway station.  On boarding the train Peter would, on approaching Villa, hang a handkerchief out the window to signify to the rest of us that he was on board.  All this was successful.  What we weren’t privy to was the scolding Peter’s mother gave him while immediately arranging to bring him back to Villa.
 
Some 30 or 40 years later I met Peter at a school reunion where he chided me for being the instigator of his unfortunate experience.
 
In the countryside surrounding Villa there was a pine plantation.  The falling pine needles provided a lovely soft bed to encourage toboganing.  We would gather any piece of timber or discarded corrugated iron to use as a sled.  One day I came to grief and an edge of rusted iron became embedded in my shin.  I managed to hide my wound until it became infected, and puss oozed from it.  My visit to the infirmary met with a chastisement and a several day spell in bed.  I still carry a scar.
 
There were some good days and some bad days at Villa.  Unfortunately, I tend to remember the bad days and have been known to write that I could never readily recall the good ones.
 
I must admit that the nuns gave me a good education, resulting in my merit certificate.  They also provided me with a home, such as it was, for 7½ years, which I would not otherwise have had.
 
It is not fair, then, for me to ridicule the “mercy” part of “Sisters of Mercy”.  I cannot expect that they would fill the void, or the emptiness, of a childhood without a mother.
 
Ray O’Shannessy
March 2022

In the year 2007 our daughter Cathy was promoted to a managerial role in London.  After some months she was missing "home", so we decided to visit her.

In the first few days we settled in with her in her small flat in Windsor and she was able to take a few days off.

We decided on a flight to Paris and to stay in a small hotel near the Arc de Triumphe.

Among the many notable buildings which we visited were the Arc, the Eiffel Tower, the Louvre, the Hotel des Invalides (where Napoleon's body lies) and the Chateau de Ver Sailles.

We then decided to visit the Notre Dame Cathedral.  As it was only a short walk we set off.  On arrival we joined a long queue to get in, or so we thought.  The queue grew longer and longer and we didn't appear to be moving anywhere.  Every now and then we would move a few paces forward and then stop again, and wait.  Approximately an hour late we were given a ticket to enter, so we were getting closer.  Finally a door opened and we, along with 20 others, were ushered into a dark little room with just stairs in it.  We started to climb and soon realized that we had joined in a queue to climb to the top of the tower, and not to just visit the magnificent Cathedral, as we had intended.

So, slowly we ascended the 263 steps and finally we reached the Bell Tower at the very top of the Cathedral.  I was so exhausted!  I found a chair and just sat there, trying to get my breath back and work up enough energy to face the fact that I had to walk back down those 263 steps.  The view from the top was amazing, looking out over Paris.

After descending slowly down we were then inside the Cathedral and I could once again just sit in a pew and relax.

If only I'd known I was in the wrong queue!!


Ray O'Shannessy
​9th September, 2021

On the last day of winter, being in lockdown, I had settled in to watch the Paralympics on T.V.  Being a lovely day, Bernadette was doing outside chores in the sunshine.

Next thing I knew, she entered the lounge room, trembling and in a state of frenzy.  "Didn't you hear me?  Didn't you hear me?".  I blissfully hadn't heard a thing but the television.  After some time she calmed down and told me the story.  It goes like this:- In the back yard she had discovered a plover chick, stranded.  She tried to console it and was attached, not once, but many times, but the mother plover which was diving viciously at her.  Somehow she escaped and came inside.

After hearing the story, we both went out to the laundry back window and gazed out into the yard.

We saw the chick, not moving, just lying on the lawn in the sun.  There was the occasional magpie flying over the yard, and then, out of nowhere, a squawking plover descended and hurriedly ran to the chick, nextling it lovingly, still squawking.  Enchanted, we stood there for some time by the window, wondering what what would happen next.  Eventually, another squawking plover flew over the yard, came back and landed, out of vision of the mother, and tentatively strutted sround.  Both birds were making a lot of noise but no progress in getting together.

Then from the T.V. in the lounge room came the sound of a band playing the Australian national anthem.  Another Australian Gold Medal!

Distracted, we left the window and went to see who had won the medal.  After listening to the anthem and the subsequent interview with the victor, we returned to our viewing position.

Nothing to be seen!  Both plovers and the chick were gone!  How did this happen?  However had the adult birds managed to move their chick?  We will never know!

IF ONLY WE HADN'T BEEN DISTRACTED!!

Since that day I have constantly wondered!  I am intrigued by nature, by the bird world, by the animal world, by humanity, by the universe!  I feel assured of a deity!  Indeed, I have experienced an epiphany!


Ray O'Shannessy
8th September 2021

When our children were young, we would head off for our annual break during the May school holidays, before the busy tax time started at the office.  So, in May 1985, when the children finished school for the term, we headed north to Queensland.  The first night we stopped in Parkes and then went on to Tugan on the Gold Coast the next day.

We settled into our holiday unit, with the beach right at the back door.

One day, on returning from our daily visit to the beach, we discovered a telegram had been pushed under our front door.  It was from Jim, my business partner, and read "please ring me".  In anticipation I went out to the nearby public phone booth with a pocketful of coins (there were no mobile phones in those days).  Then C R A S H, he informed me that our office manager had been swindling us.

The next day saw me at the Coolangatta airport boarding a flight to Sydney, then Albury, where Jim picked me up.  We travelled home to Benalla together.  Discussions revealed that there was an unknown, (as yet), deficiency in Housing Society funds.

The Co-operative Housing Society was our largest client.  Jim and I were joint secretaries and I was the administrator, therefore our office was liable for any shortage.  There were 15 individual socieities which had funded 525 home loans in Benalla.  Monthly repayments were channelled throughour office, thence to the Registrar of Co-operative Societies in Melbourne.  We handled all the repayments and our office manager had fiddled the books.

I spent a couple of days back in Benalla and ascertained there was a deficiency of something like $142,000.  Our internal control procedures ensured that balances were confirmed with the Registry on a quarterly basis, so discovery was inevitable.  A junior staff member had questioned some banking figures, so the fraud had been nipped in the bud.  

As time passed, it was revealed that our manager had defrauded his prior employer, a prominent Melbourne solicitor, of Stamp Duty funds.  On discovery, the solicitor notified our office, and therein lies another story.

After these couple of days I returned to our holiday unit in Tugan with a heavy heart.  On talking with Bernadette, (my wife), were acknowledged that our plans for the building of a new house had been scuttled.  We had to get on with our lives and face facts.

Back at the office at Benalla I faced a lot of pressure negotiating with our local solicitors, a Melbourne barrister, the Co-operatives Registrar, the insurance company, the HousingSociety directors, the media, and my partner and staff.  The whole mess took three years to settle.

On the home front, instead of a new house, we settled for a refurbished kitchen, and now, 36 years later, we still reside at 137 Clarke Street.

The CRASH had taken its toll.


Ray O'Shannessy,
​31 July 2021.

​

My childhood was short-lived, and so I will compound my memories into one.

I recall that I was a four-year old child and that my mother was in the St. Arnaud hospital dying of cancer.  Her sister, Molly Walsh, with whom I was temporarily staying, took me to the hospital to pay a visit.  January 1937.  On Mum’s bedside was a jar of black and white humbug lollies.  As an exploring four-year old, I could not keep my eyes off them and made it obvious.  Mum noticed, and whether it was in exasperation or not, said “alright!  You can have one”.  A poignant memory, but the only memory I have of my mother!  She died on the 31st day of that same month. 

On Mum’s death there was a shuffling of my siblings to the care of relatives.  My six-year old brother, Basil, and I, remained at home with my older brother Pat (16 years old) and my father.
Dad was out in the paddocks and had the responsibility of giving Basil and me a bath. There was no water connected to the bathroom and Pat had boiled water in the copper in the wash house, way out the back.  He poured the hot water into the bath, then, telling Baz and me to ‘stand clear’, went to the outside tank to get some cold water.  Baz ignored his advice and, saying “watch this”, leant over the bath to show off.  To my horror he fell into the steaming water and scalded himself severely.  He carried the scars for the rest of his life.  Pat has been haunted by the memory.

Dad’s sisters then came to the fore and both Basil and I were housed with Aunty Mary until other arrangements could be made.  With the aid of another sister, Elizabeth (Mother Augustine of the Sisters of Mercy in Ballarat), it was decided that we both should attend Villa Maria, the nuns’ primary boarding school for young boys, in Ballarat East.  This was a realistic decision.  But Basil and I didn’t appreciate the move.  We, and in particular Basil, found the nuns not to be loving people; caring perhaps, but not loving.  Sisters of Mercy, what crap!

I believe that the aunts, in taking us away from Dad’s care, had placed us among, in today’s terms, the realms of the “Stolen Generation”.

There were, undeniably, some good days at Villa, but I am sure that both of us really hated most of the time we spent there.

After seven and a half years at Villa I was able to win a scholarship which provided me with four years accommodation and secondary education at St. Patrick’s College, also in Ballarat.

In my long lifetime, I have never been able to find the right words to describe the emptiness of a life without a mother.  Having finished my education at St. Pat’s, it remained for me to fill the subsequent void, and I quote… “…whatever will be, will be, the future’s not ours to see, que sera, sera!”

However, I feel that I accomplished much and have coped ably.

My childhood, now, is nothing but a memory.
​
 
Ray O’Shannessy
27 May 2021

​In February 1958 I transferred in my employment from St Arnaud to Wodonga.  I boarded in the Carriers Arms Hotel, which happened to be the 'watering hole' for members of the Wodonga bowling club.  As a boarder or lodger (as officially known), I became acquainted with many of the 'regulars', and so, many lawn bowlers.

It is easy to imagine, then, that I was encouraged to join the bolowingclub when the season began in September.

I had never been known for my sporting prowess, and so it came as a surprise to me that I had a talent for lawn bowls.  I found myself, even as a first year bowler, being occasionally selected to play in the club's A1 pennant team in the Ovens and Murray competition.

One of the A1 skippers took me under his wing and we regularly played, and won, in the Sunday tournaments in southern New South Wales and north-eastern Victoria.  I willingly entered all the club's activity and was soon appointed Assistant Secretary, a position I still held until the transfer in my employment in May/June 1961.

I transferred my accommodation to Prahran, in Melbourne.  Because I lacked self-confidence, I did not join a Metropolitan bowls club.

In 1963 I transferred again, this time back to Benalla where I had initially commenced my working life.

Being more relaxed in a country setting, I joined the Benalla Bowls Club and became very active in both the game of bowls and the administration.

From the beginning I played in the club's A1 pennant team.  This continued for something like twenty years until it was threatened that Benalla would be disassociated from the Ovens and Murray Association because of its geographical location.

In anticipation of this move, Benalla entered a senior pennant team in the Goulburn Murray league.  I was selected in this team and we were runners-up in our one and only year in this association.  The threatened dis-association did not materialise.

On return to the Ovens and Murray association I played in lower grades and was a member of three premiership teams.  I continued to enjoy pennant bowls for a number of years.   Over a lifetime I have played in excess of 700 pennant games.  I retired from pennant in approximately 2009, and from bowls generally in, I think, 2014.  I am still a member of the Benalla Bowls Club, having been awarded a Life Membership in 2004.

Other than pennant bowls, I have competed in Country Week competition for six or seven years.  In the most successful years I played in finals of the 'fours' and 'pairs' championships.

Let me not forget also that social bowls was predominant and provided me with more enjoyment than I can ever say.

My involvement in the administration of the club has been significant, both in the bowls section and the Board, which oversees the whole of the club activities.

I served as Deputy Chairman of Directors for two years, Finance Director for four years, Secreatry of the Bowls section for four yers, General Committee and Finance Committee for over twenty years in each.

When the club did extensive refurbishments in 1979 I formed and administered the Co-Operative Society which was required in financing the operation.

In all I have been a member of Bowls Victoria for sixty years; fifty eight in Benalla and two in Wodonga.  Bowls Victoria have acknowledged this with a Fifty Year Certificate.

In writing "My other life' I acknowledge the support of my wife Bernadette, and her hard work in looking after the family in my absences.  She will never let me forget, though, that she gave me a new set of bowls for my 80th birthday and that I have played only one game competitively with them

Shame, Ray!


Ray O'Shannessy
5 June  2021

​Last month, when I saw the titles of the writing assignments which Bev proposed, I shuddered.

“One moment, this Year.”  Whoa!  This is beyond me!

“A love letter to travel.”  Impossible!  How could I write a love letter to travel?

Both topics belonged in the “too hard basket”.

Then I read that we could write about one place in the world that is special to us.  A saviour!  Then Bev suggested to me that Benalla might fit the bill and she was so right.  Benalla is my adopted home town and I love it.

Instead of writing a love letter, could I write a narrative of what Benalla has done for me?

Benalla became home to me when, as a seventeen year old school leaver, I started my first job.

Initially I spent five years boarding in George Street with Frank and Eileen Elliot.  They were a kind and generous couple who gave me a home.  In fact, in 1953 when I turned 21, they gave me a surprise 21st birthday party and invited all my friends.

I settled into work and became acquainted with many people, including in particular the girls working on the telephone exchange.

My first friend was Don Smith, another teenager, who worked on the railways.  Don and I regularly went to the Saturday night dances, and occasionally went fishing.

At the Elliots’ home I befriended another boarder by the name of Bill Keenan.  Bill, like me, was a clerk and we had a lot in common.  Bill’s girlfriend, Margaret Hernan, had a brother Kevin with whom I also became friendly.  Each week-end I would go out with both of them to the Hernan’s farm.  Their mother, Mrs. Francy Hernan, was a special person and made me feel as though I was one of the family.  My relationship with the Hernans has lasted a lifetime.

I was asked to propose the toast to all the Hernan siblings on their 21st birthdays.  Until I married I used to act as Santa Claus at the Hernan Christmas lunch.  I was a family member, and now, at 88 years of age, I still have a wonderful relationship with the surviving members of that family.

I transferred in my job for a period of eight years until I returned in 1963.  Over that period I was still in regular contact with the Hernans.

On returning to Benalla I renewed acquaintance with my debutante partner’s sister, Bernadette, and married her in 1967.

I tired of my job with the stock agency company and transferred to a chartered Accountancy practice.  For six years I studied by correspondence and qualified as a Chartered Accountant.  I became a partner/principal in the firm until my retirement in the year 2000.  My experience in this situation was very fulfilling.

Outside of my business activities I became a member of the River Gums Estate Syndicate and developed 150 building blocks on the corner of Samaria and Kilfeera Roads.

I joined the Benalla Bowls Club in 1963 and am now a “life member”.

I joined the Rotary Club in 1985 and am now a “honorary” member.

My wife and I employed a local builder to build our residence in 1967 and we still live there.

In the early 1970’s I was deeply involved with the erection of the Ballandella Centre and over the years have held executive positions in somewhat like 30 different non-business organisations.  For this involvement I have been awarded an Order of Australia Medal, OAM, “for service to the community of Benalla”.

Bernadette and I have raised a family of four children in Benalla.  They have all been educated at Ride Avenue Kindergarten; St. Joseph’s Primary School and FCJ College, then to Galen College in Wangaratta.

Since retirement I have been a regular member of U3A and Probus and have continued to enjoy my life in Benalla.

Benalla has been good to me, and I proudly say it is a place that is “special” to me.
​
And so, I have avoided the “Too Hard Basket” topic, but have I cheated?
​
 
Ray O’Shannessy
28 February 2021

I was four years old when I lost my mother to cancer. My father was an alcoholic who lost his farm to the bank. From then on, he was rarely in my life. Despite this poor start my life has been blessed.

How can it be so?  Let me tell you.

​My father’s sister held a position of authority within the Mercy Order of Catholic nuns in Ballarat. She was Mother Augustine in the Ballarat head- quarters of the Order. In addition to having several Convents within regional Victoria the nuns also conducted a boy’s primary boarding school/home called Villa Maria   in the countryside just outside of Ballarat East. Although it has never been confirmed to me, I believe Mother Augustine exercised her significant influence to provide me with accommodation and tutorial for a period of eight years, (my primary schooling), at little or no cost.

Although I did not appreciate it at the time, this was a great blessing. I was unappreciative because, due to my experiences, I believed then, and now, that nuns are of a differing breed. I found them to be not loving people and to be very strict and severe. I hated every day at Villa and used to refer to it as jail. Nevertheless, the nuns carried out their duties and provided the kids with a home and a good education. This, to me, had to be a blessing.

In 1945 another of dad’s sisters provided me with the opportunity to win a scholarship which again provided me with accommodation and secondary education for four years at the more friendly environment of St. Patrick’s College, also in Ballarat. Another blessing!

On completion of my education, Dad’s brother obtained for me a job which I held for seventeen years with Victorian Producers Co-Op (VPC).  In my later years with VPC I had occasion to visit a neurologist in Wagga Wagga who counselled me to “study accountancy and work for yourself”.  Accordingly, I commenced study by correspondence, and, after a grinding six years, I graduated as a member of the Australian Society of Accountants. Then, after another stint of correspondence schooling I graduated and obtained a fellowship in the Institute of Chartered Accountants.

I then became a partner in the accounting practice of Smith O’Shannessy, and so commenced a satisfying and rewarding career. Surely, a blessing.

I met and befriended Norm Matthews who invited me to invest in and become the Secretary of a property development group. Over a period of thirty years we developed and marketed one hundred and fifty home building blocks. This proved to be a very rewarding venture.

Over a period of some sixty years I played and enjoyed lawn bowls. I was a member of the Benalla Bowls Club and participated in more than seven hundred games of pennant bowls. I was in a number of winning premiership teams.

I also became an active Rotarian for thirty-five satisfying years and am a Paul Harris Fellow.
In 1967 I married the love of my life, Bernadette Cooke. We have four wonderful children who all graduated at University and have distinguished careers. There are also ten adoring grandchildren. How blessed we are.

In the Queen’s Birthday Honours of 2013, I was presented with an Order of Australia Medal. OAM.

All in all, I can boast that I have lived a blessed life.


Ray O’Shannessy    
8 October 2020

​In 1962, having worked for the VPC (Victorian Producers Co-Op) for in excess of twelve years, I was summoned to the Managing Director’s office in Melbourne. “Out of the Blue” he notified me that he was transferring me back to the Benalla Branch.

Many, many years later, I was notified that the  manager of the Benalla office, Kevin Donnelly, had requested my services. I had , some seven years earlier, been working at Benalla  so had had some experience working with Kevin. Obviously he had been pleased with my workmanship.

Happily I returned to Benalla  as I had many friends and acquaintances in the area. I also had the Hernan family, who, when I was just a youth, had provided me with the home that I had never before experienced.

I contentedly worked with VPC in Benalla for another five years, although I felt that I was not achieving my full potential. In an attempt  to better myself I transferred to the Producers and Citizens Insurance co. which was a disastrous move. I was not cut out to be an insurance representative. In desperation I contacted Jim Smith, a Chartered Accountant in practice in Benalla, to ascertain if he had any client looking for an employee. He knew that I had worked at the VPC and so sought a referral from Kevin Donnelly.

On my follow up call to Jim, “out of the blue” he  asked me to work for him. This offer changed my whole life and was consequential to the fulfilment of a neurologist’s advice to me to study accounting and to work for myself.

This all took me another six years but resulted in me becoming  a partner in the Chartered Accounting practice of Smith O’Shannessy and pursuing a successful business career.
My “out of the blue”  experiences have served me well.


Ray O’Shannessy.  OAM.,FCA., CPA.

​In the late 1950s I purchased a black Morris Minor 1000 sedan.
 
As a single person it suited my requirements excellently.  However, as it was a small 4-seater vehicle, there wasn’t a lot of room to cater for bulky golf sticks.  Nevertheless, my brother and I managed and went regularly to Elsternwick and Yarra Bend golf courses.  However, its main use was for domestic and personal purposes.
 
In November 1962 I invited some friends from Wodonga to visit me in Prahran for the purpose of attending the Melbourne Cup.  I drove out to the Flemington racecourse and my friends and I had a very enjoyable day.
 
In the evening, after the races were over, we adjourned to the Federal Hotel in the city where my friends had booked accommodation.  The Federal was well known to country people and had a good reputation for meals and entertainment.  At the entertainment, two of my friends befriended a couple of nurses and I loaned them my car to take the nurses home to their hospital.
 
The entertainment concluded and one friend and I waited n their room until the boys returned.  I don’t remember how long we waited, but it was some reasonable time.  On their eventual return I set off to drive home to Prahran.  As I worked in the city, I knew the road well and often travelled by car to work, which was nearby.  As was usual I drove down Spencer Street and Clarendon Street, South Melbourne.  For whatever reason I missed a veer in the road and collided with an electricity pole.  This caused considerable damage to the car and I didn’t fare too well either.
 
I woke up in the Prince Henry Hospital with nurses flitting around everywhere.  I had sustained a fractured skull, a punctured lung, a fractured sternum, 12 fractured ribs and brain damage.  It was a serious situation.  I stayed in the hospital for about 10 days.  My brother Basil visited me daily.  Eventually I returned home and did not go back to work for about 2 months.  My main concern was my frequent brain “slides”.  I don’t know how else to describe them.  I was placed on “dilantin” medication for “the rest of your life”.
 
During my rehabilitation I lost my sense of taste and my sense of smell went haywire.  I could not bear to be in the kitchen while a meal was cooking.  Eventually I returned to work and life carried on normally.  Some 6 or 8 months later was transferred from my auditing position at work back to administration in the Benalla office.
 
The car!  What happened to the car?  I visited a wrecker’s yard and there it was, sitting neglected with a massive crunch dead centre in the bonnet.  I noted that the internal rear vision mirror was shattered.  It had penetrated my forehead.  The car was a write-off.
 
Footnote:  The medication “for the rest of your life” was terminated in May 1988.
 
Ray O’Shannessy
July 2020

My lifetime – I’m 88 years of age – includes memories and stories from the Great Depression of 1932 to the current Corona Virus pandemic of 2020.
 
In 1932, many jobless males walked the countryside looking for work, any type of work, if only to obtain a meal.  Farms were routinely visited by these desperate men.  Indian hawkers and their horse-drawn vehicles were regular visitors selling their wares.
 
In the 1930’s polio was termed infantile paralysis as there was then an epidemic to which my brother Basil (two years older than me) succumbed, but fortunately recovered from.
 
At my school in the late 1930’s we were regularly visited by men known as “swaggies” or swagmen because they normally carried a bag (swag).  They were prepared to cut wood, tend the garden, milk the cows, or do any job that may be available.  We had one regular who was affectionately called “Billy Butterfly”.
 
In September 1939 we saw the commencement of World War II.  Our school was adjacent to the main Melbourne railway line.  In the early 1940’s America joined the war and their troops came to Australia.  We saw many “Yanks” and their tanks, jeeps and other warfare on the never-ending trains that went by.
 
One of my school mates left school and the next year, at age 14 years, came back to visit in an Army uniform.  He was later deployed to Darwin where bombs were being dropped.
 
During the war years, and for a long time afterwards, we had to get used to the “ration tickets” which were required for practically every commodity, food, clothes, petrol.  This saw the introduction to gas burners attached to the rear end of cars.  It also saw the introduction of the popular, illegal practice of using kerosene to propel motor vehicles.
 
May and August of 1945 treated us to the termination of warfare in the Pacific and Europe.  There were great celebrations by way of processions in the streets of every town in the country.  My brother Pat returned from Tobruk.
 
1950 saw me entering the workforce.  There was also the beginning of the Korean War and later on, National Service.  I was too young to go to Korea and, believe it or not, too old for National Service.  I had completed my registration form for National Service and went to the Post Office to mail it.  At the entrance was a notice telling all eligible males to register and on re-reading it I became aware that I was one month too old.  With some regret I destroyed my registration form and returned to my somewhat mundane job.
 
Work continued and I transferred to St. Arnaud, then Wodonga, and Melbourne in the early 1960s.  At that time the Vietnam War was current, and my niece’s fiancé was drafted for service.
I then got married, completed my accounting qualifications, and had a successful business career.

I retired in 2000 and all was well in the world.
 
Then, in early 2020, the Corona Virus struck, and we now find ourselves in lockdown.

So, there you have it, “As Time Goes By”, reflections on historical events across a lifetime spanning 88 years (to date!).
 
 
Ray O’Shannessy
7 July 2020
 

On 26th July 1956, a public meeting, initiated by the Benalla Chamber of Commerce and chaired by Mr, Jack Lester, was held at the Benalla Memorial Hall for the purpose of proposing the formation of a co-operative housing society.

The society was eventually formed on 23rd August 1956 and the first directors were Messrs Noel Brown, Ray Davidson, Hugh Fogg, Norm Vanner and Martin Warmbrunn.  The secretary was Jim Smith.  Over the term of the society Ivor Brown, Colin Ford, Barry Harris, Gavin Harrison and Pat McDonald were also directors, elected on the decease of prior directors.

The purpose of the society was to provide low cost housing finance for persons in the low to middle income brackets.

The society was to be the first of 15 similar societies in the Benalla comunity, all within the one group.  12 of these societies were funded by the State Government and three by trading banks.  In all a total of some 525 homes within the Benalla precinct were funded over a life span of approximately 50 years.

In the early stages the maximum loan ranged from $6000 to $8400 or 80% of the cost of the house (whichever was the lower).  This limit was raised with the passing of time and in acord with rising costs and considerably increased inflation rates.  The term of the loans was set to be 30 years, but with good management a society was generally wound up after 26 to 28 years.

Funds were provided for the erection of new homes and for the purchase of existing homes within a radius of 25 miles from Benalla.

In order to become a member of a society, borrowers had to purchase, over the period, shares to the value of $100 each for every $100 borrowed.  Payment for the shares represented repayment of the loan.

The interest rate on Government funded loans was 3.75% and on bank funded loans the current commercial rate.  There was an income limit on Government funded societies to ensure that all borrowers were eligible..  This restriction did not apply to bank funded societies.

On entering into Jim Smith's accountancy practice in 1968, Ray O'Shannessy became a joint Secretary and administrator of the group.  Tony Smith became his assistant in approximately 1986.

The Number 1 society was wound up in March 1984 and the others progressively thereafter, into the 2000's.

There were difficulties along the way. A number of members occasionally experienced difficulty with keeping up with repayments.  However, eventually, all bar one member, managed successfully.  The unfortunate one was regrettably sold up, but at no financial loss to the society.

In early 1985 the secretaries' office manager fraudulently appropriated a significant amount of society funds ($142,000) for his own use.  Due to strict internal control procedures, the misappropriation was discovered within three months, and the secretaries wee able to recoup the shortfall from their insurance company.  Of concern was the fact that the insurance company dallied for a period of three years before paying the claim.  The secretaries' office manager served a prison term in Dhurringile prison.  

However overall, the Cooperative housing group was a boon to Benalla residential ownership, providing finance to borrowers who otherwise would have gone without.

Ray O'Shannessy
June 2020 

It is an understandable fact that my wife Bernadette has been, for over fifty years, the most influential person on my life.  I just do not have the words to verify that statement.  Her very existence is simple proof.

My children, undoubtedly, are the next in line.

Having not personally experienced a family upbringing, it is difficult to express the gratitude that I feel in having a family.

Outside of family, I would say that Norm Matthews was, perhaps, my greatest influence.  I don't recall when I first met him, but would venture to say that it was on the bowling green.  Norm skippered me in the number one Benalla pennant team which was then known as the "Whites".  This situation continued for a number of years while each of us was also involved in the mechanics of the administration of the Benalla Bowls Club.  We both served on the Board of Management and other sub-committees.  We also successfully played bowls in the Victorian Country Week competition for many years.  In 1986 we created a corporation titled River Gums Estate, and with a group of other men, we purchased and commenced to develop, forty five acres of land on the south eastern boundary of Benalla.  We ultimately developed one hundred and fifty residential blocks, and at the present date, development has been completed and we have just two blocks left to sell.  The financial reward has helped sustain me in my retirement.  Regrettably, Norm passed away in 2004, just prior to being recognised as a life member of the Benalla Bowls Club and having his name appended to a wing of Benalla's Cooinda Retirement Village.  I served with Norm for nine years on the Cooinda finance committee.  During our long association, in business and friendship, never once did we have a cross word.

The next person to have a significant influence on my life was the late Rolfe Mann.  Rolfe worked in a building beside my office, in his role of manager of the Benalla branch of the State Electricity Commission.  In 1969 he became chairman of the Benalla Rose Committee.  I was his treasurer.  This was a very demanding committee, meeting often twice per week in the nine months prior to the Rose Festival.  In that term, as a proud to-be father, I confided to Rolfe that Bernadette was expecting our first child.  Not to be outdone, Rolfe confided that his wife Shirley was, too, expecting.  It was to be their fourth child.  In due course, our son Anthony was born hale and hearty.  Christine was born to Shirley and Rolfe, but there were complications.  Christine was born suddenly and unexpectedly while Shirley was showing.  The dramatic result was that Christine endured brain damage.  As the children grew, there was a movement within Benalla to establish a Centre to cater for people with intellectual disabilities.  Rolfe became treasurer of the establishment committee.  After the secretary of that committee was transferred in his employment some four months after its formation, Rolfe asked me to become Secretary.  And so began an association which saw the building of the Ballandella learning centre, and the ultimate Ballandella residential building.  Ballandella was then the registered name of the Benalla and District Mentally Retarded Peoples' Welfare Association.  It has in recent years been taken over by Yooralla.  I was secretary for nine years, then, when Rolfe became president and we appointed a paid Secretary/manager, I took over as treasurer for a further three years.  Being on the committee was an arduous task and Rolfe and I worked well together.  In his other life, Rolfe decided to stand for Council.  He was successful and held office for many years, including something like three terms as Mayor,  At each election I was his scrutineer.  Regrettably Rolfe developed cancer and died at the young age of fifty five years.  The end of a very powerful friendship!

It would be remiss of me not to mention my business partner, Jim Smith.  I believe we met when we were both members of the Lions Club of Benalla.  Jim asked me to work with him in his accounting practice in June 1967.  He encouraged me to study Accounting and when I graduated we went into partnership.  For many years we conducted a successful and respected business. We endured a fraudulent office manager who absconded with a serious, significant amount of funds.  We experienced the 1993 floods, which went through our office at desk height.   As one would expect we had our differences, and at times there were strains on our relationship.  Jim was by nature a devoted family man, and at some time or another we employed each of his six children.  I found them all to be friendly, hardworking, intelligent persons and had a respectful relationship with them all.  Even now, some decades after retiring, I consider Tim's son Tony to be one of my closest friends.  I still have, and still treasure, a letter of appreciation which Colleen gave me on her retirement to purse an alternate career.  Jim and I sold our business interests to his son Brendan in 1995.  At a later date Tony, when he qualified, joined him.  I continued working in the practice until 1998,  Jim stayed on some years until he retired to Yarrawonga.  He passed away in 2013.

In my early days, as a youth in Benalla, I had a wonderful friendship with Bill Keenan and Kevin Hernan.  I renewed this friendship when I returned to Benalla in 1963.  Regrettably they both died at an early age: Bill in 1970 and Kevin in 1979.  I have fond memories of them both and have often wished, in later life, that they were still around to be my friends.  This friendship was responsible for my involvement with the Hernan family, who gave me the home that I had never before experienced.  The Hernan's kindness and generosity was outstanding, marking the beginning of a relationship which has lasted a lifetime.  For too many years to remember, I acted as Santa Claus at their Christmas Day festivities  I also proposed the toast at each of their twenty first birthdays.  I don't have the words to describe what this family meant to me.

Whilst in Wodonga, I formed a strong relationship with Tim and Mick Flanagan.  We had many outings together.  Unlike the Hernans, I did not have an association with their family.  Nevertheless, I also have fond memories of these two friends.


Ray O'Shannessy,
June 2020




​

​Having lost my mother to cancer when I was 4 1/2 ­­ years old I was sent, with my brother, to Villa Maria in Ballarat East.  Villa was a primary boarding school for boys run by the Catholic order of the Sisters of Mercy.  The nuns would be appalled if they knew that I referred to it as institutional, but frankly that is the way I always imagined Villa to be.  The nuns, while taking on the daunting task of mothering and educating 25 boys aged from 5 to 14 years, were to my mind, sometimes lacking in consideration of the expectations of their charges, making my thoughts understandable.  As a consequence, I experienced a somewhat unhappy childhood.

How did I fit into this environment?  I was the son of a farmer who, because of his aging mother’s Alzheimer’s disease and his own alcoholism, lost the farm to the bank.  Consequently, he became a pauper and was unable to afford my schooling.  However, his sister was a “reverend mother: in the convent, also in Ballarat East.  This fact was obviously to my advantage in gaining admission to Villa.

My term of 7 1/2 years at Villa was a mixed one, with numerous ups and downs,  yet at its conclusion I passed my Merit Certificate,  I also obtained a scholarship which provided me with secondary education and accommodation at St Patrick’s College, a boy’s boarding school, also in Ballarat.

Happy memories of Villa do not come readily, although of a weekend we would often go on walks in the beautiful surrounds of the Ballarat countryside.  I recall having fires into which we would throw potatoes and roast them, splurging them with the ever-available butter.  Ever available because the nuns ran a farm ion conjunction with the school.  The farm provided milk, butter, potatoes, fruit and vegetables and was a distraction from more mundane doings.

On the darker side, as a tiny slip of a kid I rarely ate my meals.  As a result, I would regularly be forced to stay behind in the dining room while other kids had gone out to play.  I did, however, have a stroke of luck in that some how a packet of envelopes came into my possession.  Yes, I would wait until all the other kids had gone out to play and surreptitiously fill an envelope with my uneaten meal.  The envelope would eventually find its way into the incinerator.  All very good until I was caught out!

The nuns placed large import on their straps as a means of punishment.  Sister Brendan claimed to have a strap 6 feet in length.  Or it was until she broke it on me!

Sister Brendan also possessed a nasty streak in her character.  She took a disliking to my brother, Basil.  She took it out on the “horse”.  Remember the “springboard” and the “horse” gymnastics!  Well, Basil did not shine in gymnastics, and she chose to show him up in front of the whole school.  I was quite adept at this sport and she decided to pit him against me.  As was to be expected, he performed very poorly and I was in good form.  I won’t say I did it deliberately, but I managed, as I hurdled the horse, to kick her fair and square in the mouth.  I can still see the imprint of my wet sand shoe on her face.  Poetic justice!

The above are a couple of poorer examples over my term at Villa.  There were many other incidents, both good and otherwise, but I must admit that the nuns, obviously, despite all their faults, gave me a sound grounding for what has turned out to be a fulfilling life.
​
Ray O’Shannessy
25 May, 2020

In late 1959 or early 1960 I had occasion to visit a neurologist because I was suffering ‘nervous debility’.  I was working extremely long hours for Victorian Producers Co-op at Wodonga.  We were having markets every Monday (Pig & Calf Markets), Tuesday (Cattle Market), Wednesday (Sheep Market Albury).  Market days were generally long, but the nights were the concern.  Bookwork involved working after tea until approximately 11.30 pm every Monday till Thursday.  This was constant.  My days began at 7-7.30 am, knock off for a beer at 5.30 pm; have tea at the pub where I was boarding; return to work at 7.30 pm and consistently work until 11.30 pm Monday to Thursday, Friday was my night off.  I would go with Tom & Mick Flanagan to an Albury pub every Friday night. 
 
I experienced a persistent rash on my arms, was waking up intermittently at night as if in fright and not really sleeping. Dr. Grant of Wodonga made an appointment for me with a specialist in Baylis Street, Wagga Wagga.  I do not recall his name.  Tom and Mick, my two mates, took the day off work and drove me to Wagga.  The Specialist put me through a thorough gruelling and told me I was over-working.  His verdict – “nervous debility”.  His advice – “study accountancy and work for yourself”.
 
My employer was considerate and realised the seriousness of my condition.  I was transferred to Head Office in Melbourne and took on the role of assistant internal auditor.  This involved routine daily work, 8.45 am till 5.15 pm and regular in-hour visits to the company’s 14 country branches.  I registered with the Australian Society of Accountants to do a correspondence course but admit that I was an ordinary student.  I was easily distracted.  I boarded with my brother John’s family in Prahran and really enjoyed life for the next two years.
 
Out of the blue management offered me a transfer to the Benalla Branch of the VPC.  It was experiencing some difficulties and the manager, Mr Kevin Donnelly, with whom I had previously worked, asked that I be transferred to take charge of the office administration.
 
I must admit that in my 15 years with the company I had never found any real satisfaction with my job.  I could never see any future.  I continued in Benalla until 1966 and changed jobs.  On being married, I again changed jobs and worked for Jim Smith in his accounting practice.
 
Here was the dormant opportunity.  Study Accountancy and work for yourself.  In 1968 I renewed my interest in studying accountancy in earnest.   The Australian Society of Accountants was phasing out its examination.  To comply with its requirements, I would need to study 100 hours per subject to ensure a pass.  This necessitated 20 hours per week which I strictly adhered to.
 
November 1972 came around.  I had one subject to pass to qualify as an accountant.  By chance it was the termination of the Society’s exams.
 
In all my study years I had not known one student who had passed Auditing on first try.  The pressure was on!
 
The date for the examination came around!  I sat for Auditing for the first time!  60% pass mark!  58% was not good enough!  I failed! The Society was not conducting any more examinations.  I was in Limbo!
 
Then fate smiled.  The Society compromised with the Bendigo Institute of Technology, now La Trobe University, and it was agreed that I could do a 12-month course with the Institute.  This involved travelling three times per week from Benalla to Bendigo for the year, and then doing their final examination.  A strenuous year.  Fortunately, the examination was a breeze after my tutored year.  I passed with 87%.
 
“Study accountancy!”  Accomplished.
 
“Work for yourself!”  Still to come!
 
Then came the toughest year of all.  Qualify as a Chartered Accountant to become eligible for partnership.  With hard work this was achieved.  I borrowed money to enable the purchase of a 1/3rd interest in James H. Smith & Co., thence Smith O’Shannessy & Co.  I was working for myself.
 
Subsequently I was awarded a Fellowship of the Chartered Institute and increased my interest in the partnership to 50%.
 
Thanks to Neurologist Specialist (name unknown), Baylis Street, Wagga Wagga.   I had followed your advice!
 
“STUDY ACCOUNTANCY, AND WORK FOR YOURSELF”
 
 
Ray O’Shannessy, FCA., CPA
19 April 2020

Having lost my mother to cancer when I was four and a half years old I have never, in my 87 years, been able to find words to describe the emptiness of a childhood, or for that matter a life, without a mother.

Ever time I hear a person talking about a happy childhood I am prone to a feeling of envy.  I did not grow up with a father and mother and siblings.  Actually, I knew only one of my grandparents, also until I was four years of age.

I attended Villa Maria with my brother Basil, two years older than me, and 24 other children until I was ten.  After that, another two years on my own.  It can't be said that we grew up together because we rarely related.  He mixed with an older group of kids, I with the younger ones.  I recall that, in about 1939, when Infantile Paralysis was an epidemic, Basil was a victim.  He was sitting down eating his dinner one day and when he went to move, his legs wouldn't function.  A couple of the senior kids had to lift hims from his chair and carry him back to the class room.  Thence forward he was carried everywhere - to the toilet, to the dining room, to the class room, to bed.  How long this went on I don't know.  From memory he was well again at school holiday time, so this procedure didn't have to be followed at Swanwater.  To the best of my knowledge Basil never suffered any later ill effects.

In 1947, ten years after my mother's death, all the siblings met at brother John's house in Prahran.  Apart from Basil, they were all married and so had their own lives to lead.  We met infrequently and never afterwards functioned as a family.

In my late 20's I boarded with my brother John and his family for two years.  These were two of the happiest years of my live.

Thank God I now have a family of my own.  I try to make up for what I have missed.  My family are not as close by as I would wish but I am in contact with all of them at least once a week.
​

Ray O'Shannessy
April 2020

Before going into business as a Chartered Accountant I held a position  as a senior clerical officer with a stock and station agency branch at Wodonga. My duties included recording financial affairs and involved authorising cheques. There were also outside salesmen whose job it was to  organise livestock sales with other agents, farmers, butchers, abattoirs and so on. There were opportunities for these salesmen to help themselves by dealing in livestock, using the employer’s funds. Such practices were frowned upon and forbidden.

As was usual in our branch office there was considerable trading negotiated by our salesmen. On one occasion there were several deals going through  and one of our salesmen, as a matter of convenience, in his own right and in his own name, negotiated a deal which  presented him with a handy profit and had the sanction of the branch manager.

This deal placed me in a predicament.

The manager approached me  to sign the cheque.  What should I do?  The deal was contrary to regulations and was expressly  forbidden.  Should I sign the cheque or should I make waves and refuse to sign?

As a conscientious and  responsible employee I refused to sign.

The manager could have approached another employee for a signature but to his credit he did not take this easy way out. He communicated with the managing director of the company and confessed to an unauthorised deal. This action certainly did make waves!  Never the less my manager was able to sway the hierarchy and obtained permission to complete the contract.

Where did that place me?

Despite my refusal to sign the cheque my manager acknowledged that I had acted prudently and our otherwise good relationship did not suffer.

I subsequently received instructions from Head Office to sign the cheque and the matter was resolved.  The waves had subsided!

Just to write “closed” to this situation, I was eventually promoted to the position of assistant internal auditor,  concentrating on the company’s fourteen country branches.

Making waves sometimes pays off!
 
Ray O’Shannessy  
1st March 2020.     ​

“Music can have a powerful effect on our emotions and create a lasting impact.”

I  have been asked to describe an experience when I got lost in a single piece of music, and what made it so unforgettable. What I am about to describe is not what you expected, but here goes.

In my young days I would have dearly loved to learn to play the piano. The opportunity never arose.

Later on, in my late life parenthood, Bernadette and I went to the Benalla Show and encountered an Organ retailer.  At this stage in our life we had four children and were soon convinced that it would be a good idea to involve them in music. It didn’t take the organ retailer long to convince us that his “easy to play” organ would be just the thing. So $1200 lighter we took delivery.

The two boys, being approximately aged 10 and 12 at this stage, showed enthusiasm so we arranged with a music teacher, Mrs.Schulz, to tutor them. I would take them down to her McIvor Street home of an evening to get their lessons. I told her of my earlier desire to learn to play the piano and she convinced me that she could teach me to play the organ. So,…at age 50 years…I commenced lessons.

The three of us would go, weekly, for lessons, and …….for a 50 year old…….I slowly learned my chords. Nowhere near as easy as the man at the show ground had told us, so I struggled on.. Our eldest son Anthony took to learning, but to Peter it was a chore.

Mrs Schulz moved house to a farm a number of kilometres out on the Yarrawonga Road. So we would travel of a Tuesday evening out to her farm.  She had a number of students and at years end she arranged for all her students , with their parents in attendance, to give a recital. This applied also to the “old stager” …me!

The children all played to the delight of their parents, showing their talent….Then it was my turn!

After two years I had learned a number of elementary tunes and Mrs.Schulz had fine tuned me  for my performance and so, apprehensively, I commenced to play… Then the worst possible thing happened! All of my fingers became thumbs! Consequently I gave the worst performance of my life. The parents, good naturedly applauded me……but I knew!.... I was no musician.

Here was my experience with a single piece of music. What made it so unforgettable?

In real life I am not a quitter. But this embarrassment was more than I could bear. I quit!

I have not sat on an organ stool since.
 
 
Ray O’Shannessy.
28/11/17.