from very early on trouble was never far away from me. I recall a family friend or relative living not too far away from us in Wollongong, we called her ‘Quinnie’ and after we left town we visited her whenever we returned to Wollongong, which was many times over the years. Karlene will know this! We must have only lived in Wollongong for a short time although Dad had worked at the steelworks in Wollongong for some time after he was released from his army service, where he worked in the Armoured Division after he returned from army service in the North African Campaign. Mum’s brother George Mansingh owned the general store and butcher at Tarana, which he wanted Dad and Mum to manage, including the butcher’s shop. Apparently Uncle George Mansingh wanted to get into or was already in real estate in Portland. It would appear Dad probably did the butcher shop and Mum ran the general store, it also seemed likely Dad also taught Mum her butchering skills, which came to the fore when she eventually worked the butcher shop at Rydal after we moved there several years later. Mum’s parents Charles & Fanny Louisa Mansingh lived at Tarana Quarries and my mum Ena had one sister Cora and three brothers Arthur, George and Gordon (Pop). - verify this Apparently I was a regular visitor to the Tarana pub across the road from the shop where I used to sit on a stool at the far end of the bar, to converse with the publican Bob Gillett very early in the day, as he prepared for the regulars to arrive. Somehow Bob used to always have something available from the kitchen for me to eat, just to keep me going till lunchtime. Lunch wasn’t at 12:30pm or 1pm in those days, lunch was when you felt hungry. So then it was back across the road to the store to annoy Mum or Dad as I was only about three or four at the time. Often I would be up to Tarana schoolhouse where I would meet up with my mate Tiny Cluely, who was a few years older then me during morning play- time or lunch break. I have been told one day Tiny and I went to the chook house at the Webb property on top of the hill behind the school, grabbed a few live chook’s and tossed them down the pit toilets in the school yard. How we were discovered or who had found the chook’s I know not, but it did happen and to prevent something else happening again the schoolmaster allowed me to start school when I was four and a half years old. The reason being when I wasn’t getting into trouble with Tiny I was pestering the school master to let me come to school. So he caved in and I officially started in January 1949, problem solved. At Tarana Dad used to make regular customer deliveries from the shop in Tarana in his 1930’s something T-Model Ford Ute Regd.No.LX-026 , somehow it’s just the rego number

because she was cooking and sewing late most days she used to keep the chip heater going a bit longer, because she could do stuff or she would boil the copper for some washing and she would use that water to bathe. Every week a very large block of ice would arrive on the train from Bathurst, I would lug the block of ice home, using an ice block handle, from the Railway Station and put it in Mum’s Ice Box which was similar to the fridge freezer we use now. but the ice block went into the top section which was not opened until the next block ar- rived, from Bathurst Ice Works twice a week. We didn’t open the icebox like we do now with a modern fridge, every time we feel like an ice cream or a cold drink, we had to go to the shop, the lid to the icebox remained closed as that’s what kept food cold in the fridge! We couldn’t afford those luxuries at that time. Eventually Dad bought Mum a Figidaire Electric fridge, with a freezer, Mum was very happy, and so was I, with one less job. We were directly across the road from the Hunter (Richard) family, about 100 yards from the Rydal railway station, on the inside of a bend in the road which went on over Solitary Creek and up the hill to the large Kings home which was set back in the bush at the top of the hill. Our house was in a direct line to the Railway station, jump through a wire fence, cross the railway lines, through the station with a quick ‘Hello’ to station master Keith McManus or Greg Featherstone and then across Rydal’s main street to the Public School, easy as one could ask for. The school headmaster was Charlie Gorman who was an older chap, but he was a very good teacher and each year we had visiting student teachers from Bathurst Teachers College for a couple of weeks, so they could practice their teaching skills on us. All the kids looked forward to this change and one or two of us would ‘take the mickey’ as any opportunity arose, it was all good fun in those days. Of course Charles Street where we lived was a gravel road, so up the big hill behind our place, leading up to the King’s property, was the perfect place for billy cart racing. This was when Dad introduced me to building my own stuff, as country kids we didn’t buy or sell billy carts, we made our own unique versions and used then until they fell apart. Once Dad could see I was really interested and making an effort he taught me about the tools I had use and the mechanical issues I needed to know, if the cart was to work properly. We also worked on Dad’s Morris Oxford sedan when it needed a valve grind, carburettor service or replacement radiator - all the good stuff for a kid.

I built the billy cart using old timber planks, rear wheels from an old tricycle that was rusted a bit and a couple of smaller pram wheels which I turned up around town and some steering rope. Unfortunately during my demo run for Dad halfway down the hill one of the front wheels fell off, pretty rough axle job on my part and Dad said leave it to me I’ll get a front axle made up so you can steer with your feet! Two days later I had a new axle and some light oil for the wheels, so I put the billycart together and away I went up the hill and back down again, everything went great. Plenty of testing during the weeks that followed paid off but, I still wasn’t quite fast enough to end up in front, Dad noticed that. Again he had another trick up his sleeve and he told me about Goanna Oil but that seemed a bit far fetched to me, he had to be kidding, then true to his word he brought some Goanna Oil home. This was my secret for the big race, take all the wheels off and re-grease the axles before the race, not a word to anyone. Another modification I made was to the rear wheels, one of the solid tyres had come off during testing and this was something I could not replace, so I removed the tyre from the other rear wheel, in the hope that I would get a better grip when taking the sharp right hand bend in the middle of the course. It seemed to be working, rougher ride but the bare wheels really dug in on the bend and I had an advantage, I told the others that Dad was getting some new wheels for me and nobody took any notice. Race day finally arrived and we did held our ‘annual billy cart race’, which always attracted a crowd of local spectators, usually about ten local mothers and fathers. We would race down the old Coach Road from outside the King’s property at the top of the hill, with a sharp right hander in the middle of the run and this was a big problem for some riders, if you were in the first two at the bend you were looking good. The sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm glow over the small town where kids eagerly gathered for the annual billy cart race. The dirt road stretched out before them, down a big hill that promised an exhilarating ride. Excitement buzzed through the air as makeshift carts, cobbled together with bits of wood and old wheels, lined up at the starting point. There were seven or eight starters and all was going to plan, the race began with a flurry of shouts and laughter as the fearless youngsters propelled their carts down the slope. The sound of wheels clattering against the uneven dirt filled the air. As they neared the halfway point, a sharp bend to the right awaited, challenging their skills and daring them to push the limits.

In the midst of the chaos, a particular cart, adorned with bright colours and a hand-painted number three, found itself in a surprising position. The crowd gasped as the once third-place contender skilfully navigated the bend and past rivals to seize the coveted first position. Cheers erupted from the sidelines, celebrating the unexpected turn of events. However, the thrill was short-lived. Just as victory seemed within grasp, a sudden problem struck the cart. He was too tight and slowed considerably in the heavy exit loose gravel in the gutter and finished 4th. In the end, despite the early triumph, the spirited Paul had to settle for fourth place. The cheers turned to sympathetic applause as the young driver crossed the finish line, showcasing the unpredictable nature of billy cart racing and the resilience of adventurous kids. The standout mates I can remember, not many in a small town like Rydal, are Peter Gardiner, David Flynn, Billy Wilson, Rodney Arrowsmith, Richard Hunter, Laurie Clements, Allan Piggott, David Brown & me, I am unsure whether or not Andrew Blowes (Mt Lambie) came in to town to compete - Keith Peppernell and his wife were our close neighbours and we just called her ‘Pepp’. Back in those days there were weird people around and although our parents didn’t know about them generally, it was the kids that worked them out and we knew who to keep away from; then we would tell our parents who was who! Occasionally they doubted our opinion us or just indicate ‘they couldn’t beieve it’, so we let those ones go through to the keeper, but we made sure all the other kids knew! Alongside the railway line out towards Wallerawang a mile or two a friendly old guy had a small eucalyptus plantation where he extracted the oil, which very (slow process) and then sold it on to whoever wanted the oil. As kids we would call in to see him making the oil near his ‘humpy hut’ and to have a chat when we were out rabbiting, as nobody else talked to him and we knew he was OK. He took the time to show us how he treated the eucalyptus leaves to get the oil, we were polite and listened to his stories, because we were really were interested, it didn’t seem odd to us he lived the way he did. That was how he made a living, it was something he obviously knew a great deal about, and he was his own boss! We walked for miles around the very hilly country out back of Rydal towards Mount Walker, Mount Lambie or Wallerawang setting rabbit traps with Laurie Clements and Peter Gardiner and one or two other mates from the town side of the railway line, I can’t recall their names, some were from properties or camps just outside Rydal. We caught plenty of rabbits when we needed to, setting rabbit traps on Friday afternoon and check them early next morning. We carried small hand picks for digging out burrows and pocket knives for cleaning. We always gutted the rabbits as we got them from the traps, which lightened the load for the trek back home!

Newham’s Bus Service from Lithgow, and we picked up about 10 or 12 other kids along the way. There was room for two people to sit up front with the driver on the nearside, over front wheel with the covered engine bay between the seat and the driver. Because I was first on the bus every day, that seat was mine; it was also much warmer during winter months. Karlene refused to travel on the bus to school and so she boarded at Oakey Park in Lithgow very short time because Karlie was in her final year. Unfortunately Joan missed a lot of school due to ill health and I cannot offer more detail. The bus left Rydal around 7am every day and I used to enjoy talking with the drivers on the way to school, that is how I learned to commu- nicate with other people so well. One day the front nearside suspension collapsed as we ap- proached a sharp bend at the top of a hill near the turn off to McKanes Bridge, the bus ran off the road down an embankment and crashed into a fence. Nobody was hurt except me when I was thrown against the windscreen, no seat belts in those days. Just a big bump on the forehead and a big bear hug from the driver fixed that, he was very relieved, and I was good to go, we were very lucky that day! Photo of similar bus: sometimes I travelled to school with David Flynn’s dad or Billy Wilson’s dad Bob, who was Rydal’s postmaster, they drove us to school whenever there were problems with the bus or driver. We travelled via the Great Western Highway through the pine forest on the concrete road, bypass Wallerawang and direct to Lithgow High School. Coming home was always ineresting as Mr Flynn had a big old Wolsley Sedan and when we got to the top of Tunnel Hill, he would turn the motor off and coast down around all the bends to save petrol, probably for a mile and a half. That might seem a bit strange now but the Wolsley was a big car, and in those days it was a significant petrol saver. As a family we often went out on picnics down to Cox’s River or a few good spot’s along Solitary Creek around Sodwalls and we would pick wild blackberries to sell, Dad would bring five or six purpose made four gallon stainless steel drums. The whole family used to get stuck in and we would fill them with fresh blackberries, Lynnie and I worked hardest really, getting into bushes and we would get Mum and Karlie to reach for the higher bunches. Dad sold them through someone in Wallerawang, I’m not sure how much a full drum was worth, but it was great fun with a picnic lunch we were all very happy and every quid helped in those days.

on the way home. Naturally I got involved school sport and in turn weekend sport at Lithgow, playing soccer with the Police Boys Club, tennis and cricket were also on the agenda for the summer. I also started playing hockey with Hotshots, but that didn’t work out because of the extra running me around for Dad, I discussed this with him and he wanted me to try any sport at all, didn’t matter to him as long as I was involved in any sport he would watch my games. So I talked with Mum and we decided to give hockey away for now! Dad would drive me in to Lithgow every Saturday for soccer in the morning and wait for hockey in the afternoon. It was too much for Dad really to have to wait all day, so I could do both sports, particularly when I had an early soccer game and late hockey match, we only did that once! I was the one to bring up how difficult it was for me because ‘I had nothing to do between games’, poor little lad had to fill in one or two hours. Dad and I discussed the dilemma again and it was then I realised just how difficult it was for Dad, he gave up entire day for me! So hockey got the flick! Because Mum and Dad wanted me to get involved in as much sport as I could, they weren’t happy about me tossing hockey away. So they quietly applied for a housing commission house when Dad was offered a bit of a leg up through his contacts at the ‘new’ Wang Power Station, where he worked. Whatever it was it worked out very quickly when the offer of a housing commission home in Lithgow came up. Mum was overjoyed and within a few short weeks we moved to 11 Stewart Street, Lithgow, where I lived for eleven years with Mum, Joan and Lynnie, not so long with Dad as his situation took him to Melbourne. Mum was delighted because we had showers, with running water and hot water heaters, I was over the moon and no more chopping up six ton loads of wood. We still had wood and coal heating in the lounge room, but chopping up that amount of wood took no time at all, Mum had an electric stove. Karlene had already started working at Glenfield Special School, down near Liverpool. Joan tried a couple of jobs including some time at Glenfield with Karlie, but ended up working as a telephonist at Lithgow Telephone Exchange, which she really liked and she seemed to get better health by that time, while Lynette and I continued with our schooling. ‘Lynnie’ and I were real mate’s and we had each other’s back, she would know any girls I showed interest in and she would steer me in the right direction if I strayed a bit too far to the left, or right! I didn’t have to worry about her so much she wasn’t really a social get about at all and just hung out with a few special friends. After I left school I became a sports and pub lad, Lynnie wasn’t the pub type and hung out at the other end of town. So I didn’t really have her back, although she managed to pick one or two boys as friends who always played with opposing teams, they were OK, just played for the wrong team.

around 1958 and he took up a good opportunity as head chef at a hotel in Melbourne, where he worked for many years and became a serious fan of Essendon in the AFL. As kids know stuff we knew he wouldn’t be coming back home again, so we all got on with life and supported our hard working Mum. At thirteen years of age I began to think more seriously about Mum’s position, so I got a part-time job after school working as a bowser boy at Eric Newhams Ampol garage out on the highway at Bowenfels. Eric’s son Barry Newham ran the servo and once I started working with Barry we got on like a house on fire, add Stan Williams to the mix as he was sort of number three at Newham’s and we bonded very well. I worked very hard at the Ampol once I got used to the job at hand, at my busiest I would work three afternoons a week, after school from 4pm to 8:30pm, then either one or both days at the weekend. The money I brought in was needed, but, I had to convince Mum I should help out finan- cially, by paying board of one pound ten shillings per week. Mum and I were best mates as this time because she would talk to me, she wanted me to finish High School and this way we could make ends meet, so she finally agreed. I worked lots more weekend’s from that day forward, with time off for hockey and cricket. The careers advisor at Lithgow High recommended I should go to St Kilda, Melbourne as trainee telephone technician with the PMG (Post Master General - now Telstra), because my school marks indicated I was suited for trades. Mum wanted me to go because it was a trade and she still had Joan and Lynnie with her. She was very keen because once I had completed my first twelve months training I could transfer back to NSW, so I gave it a go, but three months of living in a large old boarding house in Chapel Street, East St Kilda with three other young blokes, doing the same course as me changed my outlook. They were great mates and we had lots of fun times, we all sang in the Myer Music Bowl but, I had had enough, I was homesick and I missed Mum a great deal, so I came back home to Lithgow! Work was scarce at around Lithgow but I immediately started part-time work again at Newham’s and within four weeks I landed a great fulltime job with Radio Electrix which was an electrical store selling household electrical goods, in Main Street, Lithgow (1960). The business was owned by Ray Cooper and Don Ellery was his radio technician, refrigeration specialist and general service guy. They sold and repaired all sorts of household appli- ances and vacuum cleaners, electric toasters, Sunbeam frying pans and TV’s. TV aerial installations seemed a bit of a challenge at twenty, thirty and forty feet high off the roof, so it seemed like a very interesting job overall, and it was. I was to learn many skills from Don who trained me in washing machine, refrigeration and all types of electrical appliance repairs and how to do service calls. I was very well looked after by the boss because I was a willing worker, and I attended many training workshops at the Electrolux factory in Orange, and Phillips and Westinghouse in Sydney for various appliances, this was a very interesting and important start to my working life. When I did the Phillips electric shaver repair course in Sydney they gave me a new Twin Head shaver, with my initials PRH scrolled into the body. Fifty seven years later I bought my first electric shaver a Remington at Charters Towers, for convenience when travelling, I

am now on my second shaver, the only difference is three heads (laughter) but the technology is basically unchanged. The main TV, radio and small appliance workshop was beneath Radio Electrix shop in Main Street and connected directly with next door’s Economy Shoe store owned by Ray Coopers brother Ken, who lived in Sydney. Their main salesman was ‘Darby Cook’, a single bloke known for his love of beer and his ability to consume copious amounts without gaining weight, was a regular visitor to our workshop. He would often drop by for a chat and eventually introduced me to the Lansdowne Hotel in Lithgow. This sports minded establishment became his go-to spot for lunch, where he would order a salad sandwich and a middy. It didn’t take long for the boss, Ray, and Don to join Darby in his Friday afternoon pub visits after work. And soon enough, I found myself drawn to the lively atmosphere and ca- maraderie at the Lansdowne Hotel as well. Little did I know at the time that this pub was not only a popular hangout for our group but also the home of the Hornets Hockey and Cricket Club. In a heartbeat, I became an active member of this tight-knit community, forging lasting friendships that would endure a lifetime. The Lansdowne Hotel quickly became more than just a place for a casual lunch or a post- work drink. It became a hub of social activity and a gathering spot for like-minded individuals who shared a passion for both hockey and good company. The walls of the pub echoed with laughter, stories, and the clinking of glasses as we celebrated victories, commiserated losses, and bonded over our shared experiences. Darby, with his larger-than-life personality and love for a good time, was the catalyst that brought us all together. His infectious enthusiasm and warmth created an environment where everyone felt welcome and included. And for that, we will be forever grateful to him. So, here’s to Darby Cook, the man who introduced us to the Lansdowne Hotel and forever changed our lives. Cheers to the memories we made and the friendships that continue to thrive, all thanks to a single bloke who loved a beer. In 1961, I obtained my driver’s license, allowing me to independently handle service calls. This was an incredible opportunity as it gave me the chance to meet new people and assist them while Don focused on the more technical aspects of our work at the workshop. We had a spacious workshop located in Rifle Parade, right behind Ray Cooper’s home on Martini Parade. However, this workshop was rarely used except for storing trade-in appliances such as refrigerators and washing machines. Recognizing the potential of this unused space, I proposed to Don that we could repair the non-functioning trade-in appliances and sell them. Afterwards, we could salvage any valuable spare parts and properly dispose of the remaining unusable parts. This sugges- tion was put into action and turned out to be a success. In fact, our boss was so impressed with the results that he rewarded Don with a well-deserved pay raise.

Overall, this initiative not only generated additional revenue for the company but also allowed us to reduce waste by utilizing good spare parts from the trade-in appliances. It was a win-win situation for everyone involved. During my time at the company, which lasted approximately two years, I had taken on a significant workload. In my final year, I was responsible for service calls and working alone in the shed on Rifle Pde. Due to my proven track record as a hardworking and reliable employee, I was trusted to work unsupervised. At this point, Don, a colleague, suggested that I ask for a pay raise, especially considering the increased workload. Don had recently received a pay increase himself. Currently, I was earning £4/7/6d per week, equivalent to $8.75. I approached Ray Cooper and asked for a pay increase, he offered a rise to £5 flat, or $10.00. Although it may not seem like a substantial increase, I considered it a small victory and reluctantly accepted the pay rise. However, it became apparent that Don was not particularly impressed with the outcome of “my pay rise.” One afternoon, we had a serious discussion about it at the pub with another coworker, ‘Darby’ Cook. Both Don and Darby agreed that I deserved a higher increase. Despite their opinions, we ultimately decided to leave the matter as it was. I was content with my work and enjoyed spending time at the Lansdowne pub. A few weeks later while erecting a thirty foot TV aerial on the roof of the store, three stories high and directly beside the railway line at Lithgow Railway Station, I had a very scary fall from an extension ladder and my feet went straight through a section of fibro roofing directly above Ray Cooper’s desk, he looked up and said ‘Nice of you to drop in’. Con- cerned both he and Don came up to survey the damage, they were both very happy I was OK. Overall the pay raise really was an insult so I started thinking about moving on and giving some other vocation a bit of a go, I was losing interest and working hard for peanuts, I left some time later after breaking my leg playing rugby league, it was perfect timing because the boss complained when I turned up for work in plaster, so I quit, on the spot and hobbled back out the front door. I had linked up with Hornets Hockey who were based at the Lansdowne Hotel, they were the top hockey club in Lithgow at that time and I played ‘B’ Grade, we were premiers in 1963-64, travelled all over NSW to hockey tournaments and life was good. I had found friendship with dozens and dozens of hockey, cricket and rugby league players that were everlasting, it all seems so long ago, great memories. Wombats rugby league was formed from within Hornets hockey club and my first game was against Wallerawang in the rain, ‘Bluey’ Rushworth and ‘Wally’ Gaynor gave me words of advice on the way out, watch him, if ‘Colin Steele’ moves anywhere, just tackle him, so I did. On the way back home, we either won 13-12 or lost 12-13, but Bluey and Wally reckoned I played well above expectations, they were really pleased. Mistakenly I thought if I was that good why bother going to training, I didn’t, and Bluey has been mad at me ever

since, he never let me forget, we all miss him and I’ll never forget him! I should have listened but I never played any sport where I was fully fit, I reluctantly went to training for physical sports and very late in life I am finding out why! Somewhere in all this I managed to break my right leg (femur) in the Business Houses Rugby League competition at Lithgow showground, number two ground, and they reckon you could hear the snap in the grandstand, I spent a few days in hospital but I cannot recall anything about how I got on at work, which year it was, or who we were playing against. I could spend time researching to find out, but when is not important! A few weeks later Mum was working in the spinning room at Lithgow Woollen Mills, Bob Morrow was the manager and he asked her how I was going. While chatting he told Mum he had heard lots of good things about my work ethic on the grapevine and he wondered if I might be interested in a full time driving job at the mill. Would I ever; Mum was pleased and so I went to a meeting at the Woollen Mills the following Saturday (this took a special Friday trip) Mr Rosen, from Mascot Head Office, Bob Morrow and I talked for quite a while, they took me into the mill where Mum worked and told me what I would be doing. Mr Rosen said “I’ll pay you ten quid a week if you want the job”. I accepted his offer, Mr Rosen was Jewish and I learned lots from this man during the next three years. We shook hands and the deal was done, then he told me after we shook hands, that he arrived at the mill on Friday so he could ‘meet me’. Although Jewish people do not work on Saturday he said this was meeting a new friend, not work! After three months and count- less return trips to Mascot I passed my ‘special’ ‘C’ class truck licence so he gave me a raise in pay, put me on ‘his staff group’ and paid me eighteen quid a week, or $36.00 which was fantastic at that time because the majority of my mates were getting less than $10.00. So I got to be very good friends with everyone at Mascot, and Mario the hard working Italian, was the head man at the Mascot factory and his first words to me were “The boss reckons you are a good worker, we’ll see about that, in the warehouse you work for me!”. Indeed he did and he had me doing up to three trips a day from Lithgow to Sydney, in a VW Kombi loaded with blankets or eight bales of wool on the trip home. One day after we had off loaded the rolls of blankets Mario took off to see the boss and there was nobody in the warehouse to help me load the eight bales of wool, so I did it myself. Mario was astounded when he returned, as I was tying the load down, he conceded I wasn’t too bad a worker after all! Mario told the boss who decided to buy a new three ton Commer flattop so we could carry more blanket rolls. I knew I could get a special “‘C” class licence, so I applied with the licencing sergeant one morning, he took me for a driving test and the job was done, in just a couple of hours. Mr Rosen knew the licencing sergeant, who didn’t do driving tests, but he occasionally drove new Holden cars from Sydney back to the local Holden Dealer at Hassans Walls Motors. It’s a small world as I was personal friends with the sales man- ager, Neville Kerrison or ‘Kero’ as we called him.

So it wasn’t long before I had an occasional passenger who I would drop off along Parra- matta Road at Homebush, on my way out to Mascot. At that time I owned a Standard Super 10 Sedan and twelve months down the track I happened to run into the rear end of another vehicle one Friday night, right in front of the Classic Cafe, which was one of the main meeting places for Lithgow’s youth back in the 1960’s. As luck would have it the licencing sergeant, who knew me personally was on duty, so he attended the accident and took particulars as there was not a lot of damage, except to my front end. That was the last I heard of that, and so Mr Rosen was right as it’s always helpful to have ‘good friends’. Mario lived around Petersham and one day he took me to his home to meet his family, including grandparents, with lots of Italian fanfare, his wife sat me down and the whole family listened to my story. We ate a real Italian meal, it was a feast and these were valuable lessons in dealing with other people and cultures, I didn’t want to leave that day but Mario kicked me out after lunch, as they had to clean up. What I learnt that day would stay with me for the rest of my life, respect! I know there are times when I get a bit excited and outgoing I can spin a good yarn, but really I am a quiet, respectful individual, just like Mario’s family. I was a member of the Police Boys Club, played soccer with them, it was in the 60’s and I got involved in boxing with Colin Holden and Constable 1/C Ted Doherty. It wasn’t long before my good mate Ted started pushing for me to join ‘the cops’. He took me to the Police Station to meet the other cops and I arranged to take one of the Sergeants down to Sydney with me in the truck, because he used to occasionally drive ‘new’ Holden cars back to Lithgow and he got $20.00 per trip, everyone was doing it tough in those days! Mr Rosen loved this, “It’s not always what you know, but who you know, always remember that”. That’s life and any time you have an opportunity to do someone a good turn, just do it, one never knows what’s around the corner. The Woollen Mill fell on hard times and they were laying workers off, but not the highly skilled workers like Mum because they were experienced across multiple skill sets like looms, spinning, weaving and whatever. Mr Rosen called me in and he wanted me to work from Mascot, but I couldn’t leave Mum, so I agreed to leave as they were keeping Mum on until everything shut down which could take another year or so. By this time I was twenty with plenty of life experience, or so I thought at the time, as I was to find out this was just the beginning, with lot’s more learning to do! I wasn’t out of work for long and within a week I had a new job working on the NSW railway in a gang of fettler’s laying the new 220 foot long rails for the Indian Pacific, along the western railway line between Tarana and Brewongle. Unlike today these rails had to be manhandled into place, from the side of the existing railway lines, wooden sleepers cut from Ironbark, Tallowood and Rivergum were all replaced manually. One Eric Wakefield was our ganger, he was in his late fifties, had been fettling all his life and that was all he knew, he could only sign his name, that was all and he was a tough as teak. So away I went learning how to remove old sleepers using a pigsfoot and sledge hammer to do the job. This was real hard work, but I really enjoyed working in the outdoors, and our ganger kept us on the go from kick off to knock off time. Eric actually comes back into my story

many years later at Menindee, where he was leading a railway gang on the same project out near Menindee. I worked with another old mate from Lithgow, Kerry Weekes, who was a pretty good rugby league player who could run like the wind and as a hockey winger with Hornets so could I, so this led to some strange activities for this gang of fettlers. Laying new railway lines meant replacing the wooden sleepers, they had to be manhandled onto a flatbed trolley, dropped off to a couple of workers to do the replacement. Repeat the process over and over, but Eric was very pleased when Kerry and I started tossing these sleepers on our shoulder and compete with each other to move them around much quicker, the other blokes didn’t mind because it was saving them work. When it rained all work stopped and we all sat in the back of the truck for hours playing cards to keep ourselves amused until the rain stopped, that didn’t suit Kerry and I, so we would race each other about 100 yards up and down the side of the tracks for something positive to do! The rest of the gang would cheer us on and one or two would bet on who would win, Kerry won mostly, no protests! We got bored with that type of work after seven or eight months, we certainly got much fitter, but we both decided to throw the towel in and get another job. Within a couple of weeks I started work at Marcus Clarkes furniture store selling carpets, just a couple of doors up from Radio Electrix. They did carpet laying as well and Peter Davies was my workmate and teacher, Peter sent me a very nice poetic letter for our wedding in February 1966. I met Allana Barrett in the winter of 1965 at the Classic Cafe when I dropped Lynnie off one Friday or Saturday evening. During my brief conversation with Allana I discovered she worked at Fossey’s and lived with her parents up Pottery Estate and one of Lynnies mates suggested we all meet up at the Wreck as Col Joye or some other band was playing the next week, and so it was meant to be I guess. Three or four weeks later we became a couple travelling around everywhere on the Blue Mountains, Blackheath swimming pool or local swimming holes down Cox’s River. We also went down the Wolgan Valley where Allana’s parents owned a property where they kept their horses for Allana. We married the following year after I had been leant upon by my good mate Constable 1/C Ted Doherty and a few other local cops to join the NSW Police Force. Allana wasn’t happy about me taking off to Sydney, I tried to reassure her that all would be OK and I would be home every weekend, but she wanted to go to Sydney with me and there was no possibil- ity of living together in those days. It was a difficult position as all I thought about was joining the cops, Allana had other ideas, so without upsetting the applecart, she resolved the dilemma. Having a steady job was very important in those days, so being accepted as a police recruit made Allana’s parents very happy, not mention the local cops, and when I asked for permission to marry they said OK, with no conditions attached, it was all go.

In those days night shift lasted three weeks so for Allana being alone at night in Sydney, after we left Karlies , was very difficult, it was hard to deal with but she tolerated it. We didn’t like city living at all, so we had to find a solution, and we finally did, however in the meantime these are a few selected bits & pieces of how we faced our daily life in those days. There was a small shopping centre at Dulwich Hill which was only a few blocks away, so Allana was able to get out for a little while to shop for the essentials, then it was back to the flat . After the first week it was very obvious that this was not our lifestyle at all and it was Allana who spoke with the Real Estate agent when he called to see how we were settling in, he was a really good agent and he found us a two bedroom flat in a semi- detached house in Dulwich Hill, this was more like home, Allana was comfortable and she got on well with our joint neighbours! Working night shift was an eye opener, we worked with an experienced officer for the first week, either a Sergeant or Senior Constable, then we were on our own. There were four major b eats, King Street, Enmore Road, St Peters and Erskineville Road, we walked each beat alone, with a torch and no direct contact with station. The occasional drive past of the PD Van containing the senior beat officer and his driver ( one of us new constables ) would keep a check on us, from time to time. When the PD got tied up that became a bit difficult and we could use the public phones, late night cafe’s or local pubs, they were always helpful. Our first exciting incident surrounded a stolen car incident from St Peters where the PD spotted a stolen car and gave chase, the offender got caught up among the back lanes so he pulled up and took off. As it so happened one of my class mates Constable Ralph Ezzy was on that beat and right on the spot, by chance, and he saw the offender hop a fence into a back yard and they found him hiding in a shed and Ralph made the arrest. When I think back I wonder how we did our job in those early days, but we have been fortunate to see the introduction of modern technology over many years, to give us a helping hand. I didn’t see it then, but I do now, how I valued my life experience at that time, how I was brought up by my parents, and my teachers at school. Visits to RPA hospital as a result of motor vehicle accidents were regular and my first fatal accident was in City Road near the University, two vehicles collided violently and a young sportsman had his leg torn off in the collision. I had to attend the post mortem examina- tion, along with four other probationers and one got crook and had to walk out, for us it was our first real front line experience. Two of us also delivered our first death message to his parents, that was something else! In King Street just past Newtown Railway Station former Australian middleweight boxing champion Clive Stewart had slot car track and he always liked a chat with the beat cops at night, moreso because he liked a bit of company which was pretty well known and that helped discourage any troublemakers. Not all the cops stopped for a chat, but those that did always came away with a bit more local knowledge which came in handy when trying to solve petty crime in the area. I always wanted to be a motorcycle cop and there was a position coming up over the next

We found a small flat in the main street, 119 Auburn St, at the rear of Goulburn sad - dler Bill Dutallis, who was a legend in the area, a great bloke and he gave us an open ended rental until we could find a house. The ground floor consisted of a very small bathroom/laundry at the back, an outside toilet and a very narrow back - yard with no grass. The kitchen was very small with very ordinary lighting, about three square metres, with a slow combus - tion stove like Allana was used to using and she loved it, as it was just like her Mum had. The dining room of about four square metres stood between the kitchen and the stairwell adjacent the rear entrance to the Saddlers shop. Upstairs and above the shop were the two bedrooms. Bill Dutallis had never intended to rent the flat until it had been updated and painted, and that was unlikely so I offered to work on the kitchen and laundry with painting and laying tiles in return, and he agreed. We were both happy with the arrangement at that time but as you can see from the only photo I have taken, out in the back yard, it was not very impressive! Bill had access to the external toilet via an exit door at the bottom of the stairwell at the rear of his shop. This was never a problem for Allana as she would often make morning tea for Bill and being a pretty good horsewoman herself she would often watch him hand craft beautiful saddles from the ground up, with Sue-Ellen always nearby in her bassinet. Photo: Sue-Ellen at front of Saddlers in Goulburn 1968 Rentals were very hard to get at Goulburn in 1967 so we didn’t have much choice, in fact we were lucky to score the rental we did within a day, and, the flat did have some basic furniture which was a bonus for us at the time. Over the next few weeks Allana made lots of shopping trips, which was just outside the front door. Photo of our back yard! While checking out the shops she was offered a part time job, which she wanted to take , but I was back on shift work again and we decided it was better for me to get extra work ( Police were not allowed to have 2nd jobs ), if discovered you could be sacked, but cops had to do something because the wages were so low. My take home pay was about $90.00 per fortnight at the time so there was very little money over to save for a deposit on a home. However; I soon found out how to get work without causing any problems at work.

from anywhere inside the flat, the lights were on all day and they weren’t very bright either. TV at that time was black and white! Photo: Allan & Sue-Ellen window shopping at Goulburn 1968 Hindsight is a great thing but, shopping with very little money to spend, was the only variation for Allana and life must have been very difficult and boring spending so much time alone with Sue-Ellen . Apparently our new doctor at Goulburn had prescribed some medication for her but back then women didn’t discuss all their conversations with their doctor at home, unless it was very important . Around 1967-8 new housing commission homes built in Goulburn were available to buy, if you qualified ! We qualified and were placed on a housing priority list via our new Bank Loans Manager, who opened a special account for our loan application. Our position in the list depended on how quickly we could get the $990.00 deposit in the account, so I got more work, as my gross salary at that time was only about $90.00 per fortnight. We had to build the bank account up to qualify, and we both agreed it was going to be tough, but we had to cop it on the chin and do it! Back home one day after working one of my second jobs, I found Allana in a very dis - tressed state in the dining room with an empty bottle of pills sitting on the table in front of her. I started to say something but she started shouting at me while pointing at the bottle, then she pushed me away when I went to touch her, I had no idea what was going on, but, it didn’t take long to work out, she had taken an overdose! I didn’t know what the tablets were for, but apparently she had them for a week or two and I wanted to know what they were, and quickly to identify what problem was, but she was hysterical and did not make any sense! So I slapped her across the face to get her to wake up to herself. Why? Because they did that in the movies to get people back to their senses. Stupid I know , but; I was in panic mode, this was my wife and this was 1968. I would react very differently with the benefit of hindsight, however Allana never expected that, and neither did I, but it worked, she just stared at me and stopped yelling. The instant reaction should have told me a lot about the situation, but this was my wife , and, my inexperience left me wanting, I didn’t know what I was confronted with in this situation. The instructions on tablets were ordinary, such as ‘take as directed’ or something similar, but I didn’t know what they were; or what they were for and she wouldn’t tell me! I had never seen her like this as we didn’t argue, I only helped with Sue-Ellen and I didn’t interfere with anything about being a mother or cooking, etc, life was easier that way. We had very few possessions and we were looking forward to buying our first home and here was my wife acting in a way I have never seen before. Fortunately Bill was working late in the shop, he called the Ambulance, then came back to us and talked to Allana and I as we waited. She seemed to settle down a bit, but would not talk to me , just Bill, so I waited out front for the Ambulance and apparently that was when

moving into our new home . She just didn’t want to know about the other stuff, so lets just forget about it! Medical staff and counsellors from Goulburn Base Hospital and Kenmore Mental Asylum officials formally cleared me of any wrong doing very early in the process, but I still had to deal with our real financial issues outside of counselling sessions. There was more to come when the fact we really were losing the house, finally sunk in, Allana became totally distressed and those one hour sessions became two hours, with more doctors, advisors and counsellors. In those days counselling as we know it now didn’t really exist, counsellors included everybody who talked with us, so over the following weeks I learned about life, awareness of our entitlements, and most importantly, how to work the system so we would not lose the house! When the Police Administration were informed formally of the findings at Kenmore my 1st Class Sergeant pulled me in to his office and we talked. That discussion along with some personal advice, pointed me in the right direction, to get us back on track, we learn new stuff every day if we let it sink in. The counselling sessions at Kenmore continued for the next four or five weeks, with Allana mainly , I waited outside generally but attended a couple of brief sessions, as to be expected, they found nothing medically or mentally wrong with her at all. So we talked and I explained to Allana how our situation really was, if we still wanted to buy our first home I had to keep working extra jobs, but, I had been directed to stop working extra jobs and that was a major problem. I know she had quite a few discussions with Bill Dutallis over the following weeks as he told me he would. Bill, being a saddler, had an easy going manner and talked easily as he worked building new saddles . Allana engaged with Bill easily because she knew horse’s, she had her own horse back in the Wolgan Valley, this was natural progression and she developed a down to earth awareness of what we needed to do. At Bill’s suggestion she decided to go back to work and on days when I was working, so I agreed and she was offered a full time position in one of the larger general stores, similar to Fosseys where she worked at Lithgow. Bill’s wife offered to baby sit Sue-Ellen when I was working and she took on the job, it only lasted a few weeks until she discovered the difficulties arising from working full time, not being around Sue-Ellen and less time for being a mum, she was advised to quit and she did. We had made many new friends during those sessions at Kenmore and Goulburn Base Hospital, real life friends who understood how the system worked, and we kept in contact for many years. Not once, nor at any time did anyone in a position of authority, nor one health official, query our living conditions, or my second jobs as being causal, and neither did I . Not one question, suggestion or discussion as to why or how this happened, from any of the doctors or clinical staff, nobody pressed the issue with minimal follow-up interviews, so we continued on with our lives and that period of our lives was never discussed until 2021.