A Hundred Years of Notable Events

A Hundred Years of Notable Events

The candles had been blown out, the main event, the singing of the birthday song was over, and she was glad that part of the day was done. Reaching that milestone of 100 years of age was a tremendous effort, they all had said, but she did not think it was, a big to-do over nothing. She did not feel that old, although her bones were creaking a lot lately, maybe they were feeling their age after all.

The reporters were there in force, asking her questions about her life, and what she had seen in her 100 years. Where they any notable events that she could recall?

Ellen McCarthy was born in Ireland in 1863, a daughter of a farmer, and immigrated to Australia in 1890. She traveled to Australia under the “remittance” passages program, whereby they were bonded to an employer for the period of time it took to repay the price of the fare.  Luckily enough, she was bonded to the owners of one of the magnificent homestead in the district. She often spoke with pride describing her position with “I was chief parlor maid. I held the keys”!!!

On that very same vessel bringing Ellen to Australia was another Irish lad, Danny Kelly, dreaming of a better life in a distant land. 

Each year, during the season, Danny would go off shearing, traveling from shed to shed with the other teams of shearers. It was during one of these trips through the area he would stop at Homestead for water. Ellen, who no doubt told him a tale or two, as she was wont to do. Danny’s courting days came to an end at the High Altar of St Stephen’s Cathedral early in 1894 when he took Ellen to be his bride. 

They built a grand house, with a big kitchen and stately parlor, and verandas around three sides of the house, the Old Queenslander, on the banks of the agricultural reserve. And that is where they bought up their eight children, and where she still lives today.

One reporter, seeing there might be a good human interest story in the old lady, asked her what notable events took place in her life.

She chuckled a little, took a sip of water, cleared her throat, and told the young reporter her most notable events were the birth of her children.

He looked a little perplexed, but she continued, her voice not as strong as it used to be, as he had to lean in a little to hear her.

“My first born was a girl, Mary, there she is over there, with her husband and three boys. She is a fine seamstress, and her decorative needlework has been shown in many a fair in the district. Apparently she tells me it is now part of the Museum Trust in the State Museum. It has given many people joy to look at the lovely embroidery on her tablecloths and doilies that she has spent many hours to create. And her work will be on show at the Museum for hundreds of years to come, for people to gaze at and enjoy. Surely that is a notable event”.

The reporter could not debate that statement, and so she continued in her lyrical voice.

“My son Marty is a policeman, not just any ordinary policeman, not that there is anything wrong with ordinary policeman, it is just he is a fine policeman, who captured the man who committed that dreadful crime in the forties, where a young shearer dealt many a fierce blow to a young Irish lad, Johnny, sitting at the bar, having a few drinks, getting up the courage to ask the love of his life, Millie, to be his bride.

Johnny was well known in the pub for his fiery temper, especially after a few beers and rum chasers. The publican had warned him several times if he continued on with his riotous behavior in the bar, he would not be welcome.

This night, however, he seemed in a jovial mood. He had plans to marry, settle down and raise a family, giving up his carousing ways.

The bar was full of roustabouts, shearers who had been working on the outlying stations, and ready for a “big drink” at the local pub. They had plenty of money to splash around, and were planning to drink till they dropped!! They were shouting drinks for everyone at the bar, and the noisy boisterous bunch were determined everyone should join them in their drinking frenzy.

Johnny was keeping to himself this night, having a few beers to gather up the courage to “pop the question” to the love of his life, Millie and was not interested in a long drinking night which would end in his staggering home in a drunken state. 

The shearers seemed to take offense that he would not drink with them. He tried to explain he was just there for one or two beers, just enough to give him the courage to ask Millie to marry him.   

It is said that one of the shearers did not seem to want to take no for an answer and keep harassing him, till Johnny's fiery temper burst out. A scuffle broke out, Johnny was sure he could handle himself, as he had been in many a punch-up before and always came out on top. But this time, the shearer was too good for him, and a few well aimed strikes to his stomach floored him, taking his breath away".

Ellen stopped for a minute, taking another sip of water. It was tiring for her to remember the sad passing of the young Irish lad.

"They say Johnny slowly raised himself from the floor, but the fighter was now past caring, the beers and rum had taken hold of him, and although his mates tried to stop him, he pounded Johnny with more jabs to his body. 

When Johnny felt he could take no more, it is said he looked squarely into the eyes of his abuser, and felt the shearer’s fist crashing into his face, resulting in a fatal blow as he fell to the floor. They believe Johnny’s last thoughts were of his Millie, waiting for him, to start planning the rest of their lives together.

The shearer, seeing that he had done mortal damage to his opponent, quickly ran from the pub, through the bush in the direction of shearing sheds with his mates not far behind him, and disappeared into the night. However, her son Marty had been the constable on duty that night, and knew of the shearer who had killed the young Irish lad, pursued him and was able to arrest him for murder. 

Surely this is a notable event, as how many other men would this young shearer have done killed to if her son had not found him and arrested him”.

Amazement showed on the young reporters face as he was busily writing everything down, as if his life depended on it.

He was waiting for more from this hundred year old dear, and did not have long to wait. Someone had placed a little tot of brandy beside her chair, and as she took a sip from the glass, she continued on with her tale.

“And now there is Jimmy, another son of notable character. He is a school teacher. You may think there is nothing notable about a school teacher, but he was very good at educating young people. One of his pupils, it so happens, became Prime Minister of Australia. That man certainly changed the course of history in his time in service, by bringing in National Service, where young men had to complete a few years of service in the Army. There were quite a few men who were on the wrong path in life, and this National Service bought them back to the righteous path, one such chap now being the Lieutenant Colonel who led the charge in the Second World War, and bought about a victorious end.”

“Well,” said the young reporter, “it does seem that is a notable event”. It seemed the brandy was loosening her tongue, and he was keen to hear more.

“I have a daughter Peg, although not a notable figure, she is the mother of three children, one a priest, one a nun, and one a farmer. You may wonder why this is worth noting, but the priest has saved many souls from damnation in the jungles of New Guinea. The nun, working in a hospital for the terminally ill, has nursed the sick and dying through their final time on this earth. Her third child is a farmer, and where would we get all the wonderful fruit and vegetables from if the farmers did not grow them. Surely these people are notable in their own way”.

The young reporter’s book was filling up fast, but he wanted to keep the old lady talking, hearing the stories of her children.

Ellen pointed a bony finger at the older lady busily running around, making sure everyone had a cup of tea and a piece of birthday cake. and remarked, “Now that wonderful lady is my daughter Nellie, she looks after me in my old age, and I would not be here today if not for her constant care. She never married, preferring to stay with me, and I am very grateful for that sacrifice she made. In my mind, she is very notable person.”

Ellen caught the eye of a youngster and asked for her glass to be topped up with a little more brandy. After taking another sip, she seemed to get her second breath, and continued on with her story.

“I don’t quite know where to start with my son Jack. He married a lovely English lass, and they went about raising their family. It was such a sad start to their life, though, as their two little girls, Patricia and Carmel, passed away when very young. I don’t know how they managed to keep going, but they did, as I don’t think I could ever imagine life without my children. So, in my mind, yes, a very notable couple.

Now, my son Pat, I am not sure if he did any notable things in his life, however he too was a policeman, and served his city well. During his long career he was required to arrange the security of many Australian Prime Ministers, American Presidents and other international dignitaries.  He tells me he was personally responsible for the security of Prince Charles on two visits to Queensland and accompanied him of his tour of the state.

A highlight of his time working with the royal family was when Prince Charles presented him with a ‘thank you’ gift – a wallet with the Royal Coat of Arms. Pat fondly recalled that Prince Charles said to him, “Sorry, mate you should always give a wallet with money in it, however they won’t let me have any!”

Ellen had a chuckle at the thought of Prince Charles and the wallet.

“Well, said the reporter, “that is certainly something to be proud of.” He could see she was not quite finished yet, and urged her to continue.

“My last child born was Mick. He is such a character, and has worked at several jobs through his lifetime.  He was employed by the Brewery, Post Office and was a trade’s assistant with the Railway before he retired. Regarded as the “jack of all trades” at the local racetrack, he retired at the age of 82 years, and actually has a horse race named after him. I know that may not be an extraordinary notable event, but not many people can lay fame to the fact that they have a horse race named after them.”

The young reporter nodded his head, however he could see that the old lady was fading. Her voice was getting softer, and the brandy seemed to have the effect of making her sleepy. He sat with her as she nodded off to sleep. Her birthday party had been a grand success, with all her children, grandchildren and great grandchildren in attendance. 

He never did get to ask whether she had been part of any notable events in her lifetime, but it was obvious that her legacy in this world was her children, and even now, at one hundred years of age, her main interest is still her family. He bade her goodbye, and keenly drove off to his newspaper office to start transcribing his story. 

The young reporter’s story was run in the local paper with the result that he was in great demand from ordinary people wanting him to write their story of their lives, making their everyday lives sound interesting and notable.