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'This (Altruistic) Life'  Graeme Morris

29/10/2022

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​The Morris Family Tree recently ticked over 8,000 relatives and one cameo appearance of a second cousin, twice removed, caught my fancy.  At its core is altruism, but not quite Carmyl's daring do of a "dead hero".

Sarah Elizabeth WALKER, known as Craigie, Birrdhawa Country, in the nascent country of Australia in 1904.  Craigie, boasting a school and nothing else, is a farming area 22km from Bombala.  Juxta-positioned near the Black - Allen Line, and on the Monaro Highway, the main route from NSW to Victoria.

Her paternal grandfather was a convict and the only picture of her mother, coming from strong Wesleyan stock, is of her touching a bible.  One strongly suspects her mother's influence, coupled with the mores of the day, made religion a central part of Sarah's life.

Her father, from Sydney, leased land at Craigie and the propinquity theory of marriage holds true, meeting and marrying her mother Clara in 1893 in Bombala.  Whatever the circumstances, Sarah found herself in Sydney as a house maid, later meeting and marrying Ernest DANIELS in 1924.

From 1928, Sarah resided at 16 McFarland Road, Merrylands, now a conurbanised suburb, 25Km west of Sydney.  They had one child, James, born in 1926.  Ernest, a chiar maker, died in 1943 and Sadie did not remarry.

The only information about her life in Merrylands is gleaned from a plaque honouring her.  She and her husband were active and well respected in the community, a meaningless statement with no sources or activities cited.  She was renowned for her fine needlewrk beading and her love of writing, including poety and religious verse.

Sadie dies on 4th November 1981 at 16 McFarland Road, Merrylands and leaves no other mark of her life until the reading of her will.

Sadie bequeaths 16 McFarland Road, now in the middle of the shopping precinct, to Holroyd Municipal Council to be used as an open space for the elderly.  James, her son, does not receive his cadastral inheritance.  One would need to be Sherlock Holmes to fathom the reasons, so it remains tacit.

The bequest's reasons probably has its genesis in the tenuous religious thead previously mentioned.  Did Sadie in her older years have the foresight to see a need for the elderly, and now for all comers?  Perhaps.  The land was developed as an open space in 1985 and refurbished in 2011 to a functional rest area, 'Sarah Daniels Court'.
Picture
Today 16 McFarland Road is opposite the vast Stocklands Shopping Complex and 220m from Merrylands Railway Station and Bus Terminus.  Well done, Sadie.  
​

Graeme Morris
​October 2022
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'This (Virtual) Life' - Beverley Lee

24/10/2022

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I’m time travelling as I add Carmyl’s ‘This (Reading) Life’ story to the website, moving rhythmically to a collection of 70s songs selected for me by Spotify… just now, ‘I Love You Just the Way You are’…. now, ‘Bridge Over Troubled Waters’ by Simon and Garfunkel’ …. ‘when tears are in your eyes, I’ll dry them all, I’m on your side when times get low, and friends just can’t be found, like a bridge, over troubled waters, I will lay me down’…….

I lived in Spain for a year in the 1970’s.  I knew when I left Madrid that it was unlikely that I would ever return.  I type ‘The Music of my Madrid’ into the website search bar, locating a story written for 'As Time Goes By' many years ago which continues to bring me joy, punctuated as it is by video segments relating to my time in Spain. 

Later, browsing bookmarks in Youtube, I walk virtually around my old haunts in Madrid, past La Casa Inglesa in Plaza de Salamanca, which 45 years later I sadly notice is now boarded up; along Calle de Padilla, where I shared an apartment;  into streets and lanes with bars frequented during ‘chateos’, late afternoon walks in which I often met up with expat friends over Spanish wines and tapas – whether garlic mushrooms, calamari in its ink, tortilla, olives.

I visit the Facebook page of ‘Coral de Moraria’, the flamenco bar I frequented often with friends, over four decades later almost deluged with video clips of the flamenco dancers and singers of today performing on the stage I came to know so well all those years ago. 

Still unwinding to music of the 70’s in the background, I continue editing the website, subconsciously practicing Spanish via an ‘app’ which changes selected words to Spanish

“En octobre we are looking forward to celebrating Get Online Week, with a free almuerzo for U3A members and members of the older Benalla comunidad on miércoles 19 October at 11.45am. This lunch is being provided by a grant from the Fundación Cosas Buenas… . The theme of el almuerzo is ‘Prueba una cosa’…”

Later, I search SBS On Demand for Spanish films, then seek out Rick Stein’s culinary adventures in Spain.  I watch with joy as he visits the places and food of ‘my’ Spain.  I’m soon searching for the little diary containing the recipes for paella and tortilla I learnt from our beloved cleaner, Carmen, in Madrid – I have lots of olive oil, potatoes, onions and eggs in the pantry, so tortilla it will be!

Later I lie in bed, unable to sleep, and sleepily say to the open air… “Okay, Google, play Spanish classical guitar music,” then sometime later…  “Okay Google, Goodnight”…

 
Beverley Lee,
October 2022
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'This (Fortunate) Life' - Neville Gibb

24/10/2022

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Obituary of Heather

As an unofficial historian I would like to try and give an essence of Heather.

Heather was always optimistic.  Tolerant of human beings, she didn’t judge people harshly. Well not openly, out loud. She was friendly to a large proportion of the population.

In turn, Heather was liked by most people who met her. She had a fairly full social life, belonged to many groups and fitted well into the wider community. She would have had a mitigating effect if any of her groups showed signs of extreme behaviour. Always quick to laugh, she could always easily defuse a tricky situation.

Heather started life living in a house the King Valley side of the cutting. This was quite a crude house. It did not enjoy many amenities. The inside was not fully lined. It had a limited supply of cold water. Heather enjoyed living here. This house is nestled in between the River and the Hill.  It is close to both. She claimed she could go into the bush whenever she wanted. She might have done this in secret. But most likely she would have done it with her siblings and relatives of which she had lots.

In time her family moved about two miles down the road to the house that is still in the family. This house was on 30 acres and close to the river. You could always hear the river at night. A clearing sale was held on the day they moved in. They had already purchased the property. The clearing sale was in the afternoon. They slept in the house that night. They had to move quickly because there were 20 cows to be milked twice every day. The cows came with the property. In time they also kept pigs. The pigs were the responsibility of Heather’s mother.  Both her mother and father milked the cows, but her father worked off the farm as much as possible as an agricultural labourer or casual worker in industry.

Heather’s Father was Scottish. His name was Tom. He came from Paisley. Tom wasn’t hollywood Scottish. He never wore a kilt. He admitted however to having a connection with Robbie Burns and his family had kept intact a pair of Burn’s breeks. Tom had had a privileged upbringing until the time his mother broke with his father. The father was a serious drinker and was inclined to go on benders which lasted sometimes for weeks. Tom’s sympathies were with his mother. The family breakup however meant Tom’s life changed forever. The business which gave them a comfortable living came to an abrupt end. Tom had to leave school before school leaving age and get a job. In later life he would recall in detail how much he had loved school and how much he missed school. How he sometimes would stand outside the school and watch the pupils going in. Tom could quote Shakespeare. He could quote Wordsworth. Tom’s family did not get back together and in time it was decided that he would come to Australia and join his relatives in the King Valley. He came to Melbourne by boat and then train to King Valley. He claimed the train journey from Wangaratta to King Valley lasted approximately the same time as the journey from Melbourne to Wangaratta. The train stopped at all 12 stations. Sometimes for an hour.

Heather’s mother belonged to a musical family. Her name was Edith, but she was called Edie. There was a Laffy family band composed of Edie’s father, two brothers, and sister, but Edie never sang with the band. She sang solo songs which highlighted her voice. Her singing career went on long after the Laffy family band split up. She would often be asked to sing at public occasions. She would sometimes take part in talent quests run by the local radio station. All her relatives and friends would listen with interest when this happened. A vinyl record was made of one of her appearances.

Heather did not always get on with her mother. She once ran away from home, or more correctly rode away on her bike. She took refuge with her Aunt and came extolling a list of complaints. The middle verandah had to be swept. The kitchen floor needed to be washed. The beds had to be made and she was expected to do it all. Quickly, however, Edie was notified, and the conversation turned to how fast Heather had ridden. She had travelled 8 miles in an hour. How fast was she going?

Heather had a full working life until she got married and she then became a full-time housewife. She was good at this occupation. Excelled at it even. She got on well with her husband David and in time they raised two well-adjusted children. David and Heather had many adventures. David had several careers in various industries. Heather always supported him. It can be stated that Heather and David were soul mates. They appreciated each other in the deepest sense. If any marriage can be described as successful, then theirs can. This wasn’t all David’s fault. Heather had a hand in it as well.

In late middle age during a bout of illness Heather gave up smoking cold turkey. She had been a reasonably heavy smoker quite attached to the joys of smoking. She was never tempted to revert.

Heather was always generous to her relatives and friends. She always welcomed people to visit, was always accommodating if people wanted a meal or to stay the night. This was her strength. It was not always openly appreciated but it was always understood. It’s a cliché, but if anyone was generous to a fault, then Heather would qualify…

 
Neville Gibb
October 2022
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'This (Nomadic) Life' - Heather Hartland (#2)

24/10/2022

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I have never lived anywhere longer than nine years.

As Dad was badly affected by his experiences in the war, he needed to work outside so got farm work in the UK. A cottage was a part of his wages.

We moved around several farms before the big adventure, we came to Australia to start a new life. We started in the South-West of W.A. in a small mill town, then moved to a nearby regional town. Then up to the hills area North of Perth.

Then, after a brief period in the city my family settled in Mandurah, a coastal town South of Perth. They settled I didn’t.

I had left school and was working, so I moved to the big city. I boarded, I shared flats; I got live in jobs; I moved a lot.

I headed off on a cruise back to the UK to reunite with family. In the UK I lived with one Aunt, then another, then a rooming house whilst I worked and travelled.

Another cruise and I was home in Australia again.

I joined the RAAF which meant, once again, I was off and moving.  I lived in all states of Australia, some multiple times and somewhere along the line, got married and moved out of on base rooms to a house.

Even after leaving the RAAF, we just kept moving following new opportunities until settling here in Benalla (for now!!!!!).


Heather Hartland,
October 2022
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'This (Dangerous) Life' -   Heather Hartland (#1)

24/10/2022

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As a child in the UK, I was in the ocean and was knocked over by a huge wave. I nearly drowned. Strangers pulled me to safety.

During my school years in WA, I had a holiday job at the local stables and got to ride the horses. One year we were taking horses along the road from stables to paddock when some kids lit jumping jacks which hit my horse. He panicked and bolted, right up the middle of the highway heading straight for an oncoming truck. I held up my hands and yelled for it to stop. Crazy but it worked, when it hit me, my outstretched arms caused me to be pushed to the side where the driver found me lying in the mud with two broken wrists.

Even a trip to the local Drive In wasn’t without its dramas. We were watching a movie called The Towering Inferno. Part way through we were feeling a bit warm. Then suddenly EVACUATE NOW came up on the screen and police directed us out through the bottom gate to safety. A huge bushfire was heading straight for the drive in.

I was in a bank which was held up by armed men, gun pointing at me. I obeyed the thieves and survived.

I was a passenger in a car which was T Boned by a drunk driver. After they cut me out, I was taken to hospital, relatively unscathed, for treatment.

In London I was sitting at a railway station talking to an elderly lady who was knitting. She boarded her train and as it left, I realized she had left her bag on the seat. I went to grab it but stopped and froze. I ran to the station master who evacuated the station and called the bomb squad to disarm the device she had left.

Even on the ship home I couldn’t stay out of trouble, between Africa and Australia we got hit by a small cyclone. Luckily it didn’t do any more than make us all seasick!

More recently I have survived three bouts of cancer.

These are just the highlights, or should I say low lights, of my life.

Heather Hartland
October 2022
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'This (Retirement) Life' - Marg McCrohan

23/10/2022

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In June 2007 my husband and I decided to retire and leave Melbourne behind. We had already purchased a house on two acres in 2000. The property was about eight kilometres beyond Tatong towards Tolmie, and we had planned this to be our last move. We had planted trees in the bare hilly paddock and the garden was a work in progress. The location was idyllic, being surrounded by farmland and the Holland Creek, across the road from us, which supplied us with water. Our neighbours were welcoming and so we settled down to a quiet life. Unfortunately, my mother became seriously ill in Ireland and so a quick trip to see her was organised.  I was fortunate to spend her last few days with her and to attend her funeral before returning home.
 
We then set about seeing some more of our own back yard. This involved a trip on the Ghan from Adelaide to Darwin, with a stop off in Alice Spring so we could visit Uluru.  No, we didn't climb the Rock but circled it by foot. This trip inspired us to plan a camping expedition up through the Centre and down the West Coast. 
 
We made a few trips overseas to catch up with family and visit new countries, as well as old favourites such as Paris.  
 
In between we continued living in the quiet rural surrounds, with shopping trips to Benalla and occasional outings to Swanpool Cinema.  We were content with our lot, until I got the Volunteer bug and joined the crew at Vinnies.
 
Unfortunately, we also aged.  My arthritic hands made gardening a painful chore and not the pleasure it had been. Thus, we decided to sell our property.  We made the decision to move to the coast and ended up in Portarlington. At the time there was only a small permanent population, and we were surrounded by empty houses, which was a gentle introduction to urban living. Of course, over the summer the population swelled, and life became more hectic.  With ongoing development increasing in pace, we decided to head back to Benalla.  However, this time, we settled in the town.
 
Now, several years later, we are well settled into retirement.  There is time to take up causes, whether by writing to politicians, joining protests or visiting people in detention. Between Volunteering, U3A and ‘life in general’, I often wonder how I managed to fit employment into my schedule. Yes, I do have a garden but on a smaller more manageable scale.
 
To me retirement has been a wonderful surprise. I had wondered if it would be boring. Instead, each day is a gift to be cherished.
 
 
Marg McCrohan
October 2022
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'This ("Whose Life is This Anyway?") Life'

23/10/2022

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Two little boys.  

Both boys aged 5 and three quarters, living on opposite sides of the globe, both born in the latter half of 1948.
​
One little boy dressed in his finest by his mum, sent out with a hug and a kiss to experience the world. That day he would see the Queen and excitedly have much to tell his mum returning to her open arms. This little boy would have a story read by his dad before dropping fast asleep, feeling very special.
​
On the other side of the world, the other little boy, would be dressed in majesty. He would already know that he was Special but would not wake to a hug from his mum nor fall asleep after a story from his dad. In fact his mum and dad were also on the other side of the world, waving at that other little boy. The Special little boy would fall asleep alone, wondering if he was really special after all.

These two boys, travelling similar paths, would be surprised as to how their lives would mirror.  They would both tail-end their secondary education with an empowering experience of outdoor training and confidence building. Traversing tertiary education, which highlighted their strengths and deficits, they would be drawn to the natural and built environment, and ultimately be led to the realization that an academic career was not to be their calling. They would both become public advocates experiencing derision and criticism, yet growing stronger through the process.

These two young men would marry and ultimately divorce. They would know love and heart break. Each would celebrate the birth of two sons who in turn would present to their fathers, five glorious grandchildren.

The two sons of each father would be nurtured with strong values and high self-esteem. They would confidently and individually create a place in the world reflecting their skills, passions and inheritance. Yet each of the sons would be impacted by loss and grief, for that which was and what might have been.

These sons would also carry a legacy from their fathers’ mistakes and missteps and discover the loneliness that is part of the human condition. Through a cauldron of emotions they would affirm their individual paths, leaving almost irreconcilable differences between the individual brothers. And their fathers would watch at times immobilized by an acknowledgement that a father’s words and responses offered no salve or comfort.

It is now 2022. These two young boys are now well into their 70’s. Grey-haired and with faces grooved deeply by the tread marks of time, both living a faith deepened by experience, having left behind the burden of creeds, dogmatism and ideology. They have become clearer as to what is important but at times struggle with their own vulnerabilities and idiosyncrasies.  Self doubt does not evade them, yet they appear to move confidently ahead, acknowledging love, friendships and the companionship of fellow travelers. Rejoicing and grateful for the gifts they have received.   


Graham Jensen
​October 2022
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'This (Number Thirteen) Life' - Margaret Nelson

23/10/2022

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I’m not superstitious, but the number thirteen crops up remarkably often in my life. A lot of people dodge thirteen, consider it unlucky, but I think of it as my lucky number.
 
Firstly, I remember passing my last year 12 subject, Modern History, on 13th January, back in the days when the results came out in the daily paper (The Argus if I remember correctly.) I’d never been very fond of the subject and had a teacher who didn’t really make it an exciting subject.
 
I passed my driver’s licence on the 13th of March. I was so nervous. Cars back in the 60’s were manual, and traffic signals were given by hand, rain, hail or shine. The hand brake start was tested on the railway station ramp.  I had one of the strictest police in Benalla that day, with the reputation of regularly failing people. All good!  I passed.
 
We were married on the 13th of February. It was a humid sticky day threatening to storm. However, it held off till the photos were taken outside the church and the last guests were inside the reception, then it bucketed down. Luckily it cleared by the time we came outside again.  It must have been a lucky day as we are still together after 60+ years.
 
Our first grandchild was born on a thirteenth, an emergency caesarean, and a healthy baby.
 
On our visit to USA, we went out to Grand Canyon.  On seeing helicopter flights available over the canyon, we decided it would be the best way to see it.  This was very exciting, having never been in one before. On alighting we did the touristy thing and had our photos taken beside the helicopter. On looking back at the photo later we were amazed to see it was Number 13. I bet a lot of people dodged that one!  Also, on the plane trip back to Vegas, we had seats 12, 13 and 14.
 
The only raffle I can remember winning was Number 13. It was at the first Camellia Society Christmas party.  Ray was asked to draw the winning ticket.  Imagine our embarrassment when he drew my ticket!
 
On a humorous note, a farming acquaintance of ours bought a new farm ute. His wife, a rather superstitious woman, warned him not to get 13 in the number plate. He duly arrived home with the new ute to be greeted with “I told you not to get 13 on the number plate”. It was ABC148, which added up to 13. I hope it didn’t bring them any bad luck!
​
 
Margaret Nelson
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'This (Reading) Life' - Carmyl Winkler

9/10/2022

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I sat on my favourite chair churning through Geraldine Brooks’ new book, ‘Horse’.
​
I’d fixed up the emails, made the soup and seized the book. There were still a number of things on my Wednesday list but I should be able to fit in a couple of chapters before lunch called.

Tempted to start just one more chapter, I said out loud, ‘That’s enough Carmyl. Do something!’ and suddenly I knew what my memoir topic would be.

When I was at primary school, I didn’t have a deadline to get out of bed. But I did have an inverted deadline. No reading before 7 o’clock. We had no clock in our bedroom so I’d call out, ‘Is it 7 o’clock yet?’ My mother would reply from the next bedroom, ‘Not yet’. Eventually the magic hour would come and out came the latest library book. I always seemed to get to school on time so I guess I did fly around after I’d whipped through a few chapters, but there’s a very special place in my memory for, ‘Is it 7 o’clock yet?’

When I was about eight, my mother produced a book which she suggested I read. I couldn’t remember any other book that had been thrust upon me but I was quite open to anything with a cover and pages to turn. Its name was The Cradle Ship and I found out some time later that it was supposed to cover any sex education needs. It started with plants and moved on to insects and animals with a small closing chapter on humans and I found it quite uninteresting and certainly didn’t get any message it was intended to convey.
​
On to High School. I can hardly believe it as I was always a very obedient student except on the odd occasion I took it upon myself to correct the teacher, but one day, in year 8, I was reading a book under the desk when the teacher came along and confiscated it. It was all the more embarrassing as its title was ‘Always Love’. The fact that it was a Sunday School prize and far from a hot romance didn’t seem quite appropriate to explain at the time.

I delayed joining the CAE book group at Tallangatta because of the yearly fee at a time of our lives when money wasn’t plentiful, but after a year I decided it was a priority. I realised that the group forced me into reading books I wouldn’t normally choose.

My favourite authors include Barbara Kingsolver, Tracey Chevalier and especially Geraldine Brooks. A few of these books are non-fiction but many of the others are historical fiction, based on real events or people and discovering which parts are true is a bonus.

The brilliant Benalla library and its ability to order virtually any book you ask for has sufficed my appetite for now and I have resisted rejoining a book group.

I am so grateful for books and the learning, the comfort and the joy they have brought to my life.


Carmyl Winkler
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'This (Long) Life'  -  Ray O'Shannessy

8/10/2022

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1932 - Born in St. Arnaud.
2022 - Hale and Hearty in Benalla.
90 years of living...
​​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.

From the early to mid 70s, Bernadette and I fostered an infant relative who'd lost her mother to cancer.  We were heart broken some years later when her father remarried and claimed her.

 
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
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    'This (...) Life'

    The theme for October 2020, 2021 and 2022! '"This (....) Life".  The brief?  " Submit a 500 word story of own choice, a story important to you, a story you have often wanted to write about.  After writing the story, develop a title for it using the title 'This (......) Life".  Drawing on titles submitted to the Australian newspaper's 'This .... Life' weekly column of submitted stories, it might be something like, "This (inspiring) Life", "This (entitled) Life", "This (serendipitous) Life" or ‘This (downsizing) Life’,  A recent story in the Australian was titled - ‘This (Number 8) Life’ - a story about growing up as ‘Number 8’ in a family of nine children.'

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