Dry River Writings
When my father died after a brief illness, at 6 pm on 26 June this year, my brother rang immediately to let me know. So it’s probably a measure of my interest, or lack of it, that at this crucial time my phone was on silent and Matt had to leave a message, which I…
On a chilly Melbourne morning in September 1998 a bunch of us gathered around a long table at the Tin Pot Café for Surya’s wedding breakfast. Of course, he wasn’t there – he was getting married in Tiruvannamalai, Tamil Nadu, India. So those of us who couldn’t be in Tiru marked the occasion in Fitzroy…
It was a cool, drizzly day on 13 October for the funeral of Dennis Blanchfield at Quaama Cemetery. He must have been well-remembered and liked, judging from the crowd. Dennis’s brothers Jim, Danny and Brian all still live here in Quaama. I didn’t know Dennis; he left Quaama well before my time. But I heard…
At Earle Horne’s funeral on Thursday 1 August we heard from his son-in-law Richard that Earle joined the army when World War II broke out, at just 16 years of age.
They say you can tell a man’s heart by how he treats his dog. And if that’s true then Rob Burgess’s heart was solid gold. The Cobargo community would have seen Rob walking his Great Dane, Jensen, up and down the street on a regular basis until just a couple of months ago when his…
A common sight in Quaama, until recently, was a big old blue Falcon doing the morning run from Fieldbucketts Rd along Bermaguee St to the store, apparently with no driver. But then you’d hear a friendly ‘bip’ as it passed – Joan spotting a friend. Joan Horne, the little lady with the big presence.
Picture, if you will, a forest clearing. The chatter of birds in the treetops. A dirt track, recently graded. Heavy equipment stands idle all around – bulldozers, knuckleboom loaders, chainsaws. At one end, a ragtag group of people in beanies and coloured clothing, with backpacks and thermos flasks, sits chatting. At the other, workmen in…