At the suggestion of my family, I have set down in these pages some recollections from my life.
I’ve long thought about writing the story of my life. Not because it was extraordinary but because in many ways it’s been ordinary. An ordinary story of an Australian bloke. A bloke who grew up poor on a farm, although he didn’t always know he was poor. A bloke who left the farm for the big smoke, and grew a family and a life for himself, well away from his roots.
My grandchildren and great-grandchildren have no concept of my early life and I’d like to give them a feel for it. It’s a time, like all others, that will never come again, but in so many ways it formed the life they are now leading. Families and genetics are funny things, they do influence who we are. Then there’s the circumstances we experience that add to the story. I’m sure the kids now look at an elderly man who has lots of stories—some of which they may not believe, and some of which may seem improbable.
I wish my own ancestors had written about their lives. I’d love to know more about them as people. I suspect I’d be saying, ‘Wow, I do that too’, or ‘That might be why I…’
I hope that one day, just one of my descendants will enjoy this story, identify with parts of it and perhaps learn some things from it, and then add their stories to it, taking up where I leave off. Because that’s life and it’s a great gift to be able to understand and feel connected to the past and the future.
Many of the aspects of daily life as I was growing up have now gone forever. I was shaped by those times and the people surrounding me during different periods of my life and wanted to share some of those times and experiences.
I promise that all of the recorded events actually happened to me, to the best that my memory recalls.
