Parralell Lines

It was January 1991, and the day began with the threat of an ever-present Australian summer heat wave. The sun was already well above the horizon and relentlessly urging the mercury towards 40° Celsius as he strode confidently towards the newly-renovated doorway of the Solicitors offices in Windsor. John Ramsay was apprehensively excited, knowing he was about to become a very wealthy man. At 40 years of age, he was tall, good-looking, well-built, intelligent and well mannered in the “old-school” way. What he was about to experience would be life-changing – but not necessarily in the way he thought.

“If these walls could just talk” he thought, wistfully, as he crossed the threshold of this ancient building, “imagine the stories they could tell!”. He found himself pondering the history of the old, 1820’s building and romancing the possibilities of his ponderings. He know nothing of the actual history of this magnificent, historic building and had only heard the usual rantings of those who “knew someone who had a relative who was involved with ………..”, but nothing concrete or substantive; A chance meeting with a potential suitor, perhaps, or a run-in with the local law enforcement! A man of the cloth about to conduct a wedding or funeral, or baptism! Or even a clandestine meeting with some underworld crime figure to divide the fruits of their secretive, illegal activities, such as illicit whisky smuggling or ill-gotten gains from clandestine gambling activities.

The building was actually constructed in the early 1820’s as a Police Station with adjoining holding cells, opened with much fanfare as the cornerstone of the country’s embryonic and developing Legal System, being held up as the deliverer of Justice to the Penal Colony’s ever-growing colonial criminal population and promising to terminate their reign of fear over the generally God-fearing, law-abiding citizens of Windsor.

Set facing the main thoroughfare of George St with its cobblestoned roadway, (now concreted) and gutters of large sandstone blocks, (many of which are still there today), the new Police Station was an imposing structure, built from the from red bricks, corrugated iron roofing and the same, locally sourced, high-quality sandstone that was to become famous as the preferred building material of the day, being used extensively in the construction of the City of Sydney. The building had seen many different uses over the years including lives as a hotel, bakery, sweet shop, real estate office and, for the last 65 years, a Solicitor’s office specialising in Family Law, Probate, Conveyancing and the like, now belonging to a Mr Jacob McIntyre.

“Good morning Mr Ramsay” enthused the receptionist as she returned to her desk. His musings interrupted, John responded; “Good morning,” he replied, “I have an appointment to see Miss McIntyre this morning, regarding my fathers’ will”. “Yes, Mr Ramsay. Please have a seat, Mis McIntyre will be with you shortly” she bubbled.

John Ramsay’s father, Jock, inherited a magnificent property of some 500 acres of prime farming land just north of Wilberforce not far from Windsor. Jock had the incredible foresight to not only continue, and grow, the adequately profitable cattle farming business his father had built, but to stablish a large market garden enterprise to assist in feeding the burgeoning Sydney population, desperately in need of fresh fruit and vegetables.

John was an only child and his mother, Mavis, was determined that he should receive the best education possible. The family business needed manpower; however, it also needed the brain power to adapt to, and adopt, modern farming technology, and whilst Jock had learned his craft well from his father, and was an astute businessman, he did not have the benefits of a solid education. It was, after all, 1970, and John needed the ability to move forward with the times. They’d put a man on the moon, developed a machine called a computer, modernised the dairy industry, had motor vehicles that had automatic transmission, trucks and tractors were bigger, more powerful and more capable and life was advancing at such a pace it was difficult for the older generation to keep abreast of it. Mavis instinctively knew that, if the farm was to have a future, John’s education was to be a major part of it.

John excelled at school. He was bright, popular, sporty and diligent. By the time he had completed secondary school, he was Dux of the school and head prefect. He had enjoyed many deep conversations with his mother and father about the direction he wished to take in life and they all came back to his passion for farming and the opportunity to drive the business forward. He had a natural comprehension of animal husbandry and an extraordinary understanding of horticulture. He was enrolled immediately at Hawkesbury Agricultural College, to study both disciplines, naturally excelling in both. Upon graduating, and at just 22 years of age, John calmly presented his bold new plans for the farm growth and development to his father, who questioned them for deeper understanding, but was quietly very proud of his son’s achievements and visions for the future. Jock’s questions were simply confirming what he already believed - that John’s heart was in their land and their business. And Jock was contented and comforted to know that his, and his fathers, work, building and developing a prosperous enterprise was indeed, with John, in good hands with an assured future.

John was excited about the opportunity to develop ideas born of new technology. Aquaculture was making huge inroads into supply chains. Beef was now being “fattened” before being sent off to market and new, heavier cross-breeds were being introduced to improve the “on-the-hoof” sale weight. Further to this, he had heard some remote ructions from Asia about a new breed producing a beef called “Wagyu” which, given its selling price, was well worth the effort of investigation.

Tragedy affects everyone, in some way or another, along the journey of life and the Ramsay family were no exception. After many successful years of innovation, hard work and a comfortable retirement, Jock finally passed away aged 87 in 1990. He was simply worn out and the death certificate simply read: “Died of kidney complications, aged 87 years”. John was mortified and beside himself with grief. He had lost his father, his mentor, his best friend and advisor. He knew that Jock had always wanted him to marry and bear grandchildren. However, John was so utterly consumed with the farm and its innovative activities that he had not found time for romance and marriage, and did not look like doing so.

From the ashes of despair rises hope, faith and, often, miraculous surprises. John Ramsay strode confidently towards the newly-renovated doorway of the Solicitors offices in Windsor. He was apprehensively excited, knowing he was about to become the official owner of the farm. Probate had been verified and the formalities were due to conclude today after an exhaustive process. He took his seat as requested and patiently waited. What was another few minute’s delay in the overall scheme of things?

It was January 1971 and the day began with the threat of an ever-present Aussie summer heat wave. The sun was already well above the horizon and relentlessly urging the mercury towards 104° Fahrenheit as she crossed the impressively arched doorway of the renovated Solicitors offices in Windsor.

The town had changed a great deal over the last 20 years. Gone were the ancient sandstone cobbles, having been replaced with concrete, not that long ago. Much of the sandstone guttering remained, as did many of the original township buildings, but, sadly, some of the buildings had been replaced with new structures. “Sadly”, because slices of history were being devoured by so-called “progress” and many locals were demanding that Preservation orders be issued by the State Government to protect the towns’ significant historical value.

Mary McIntyre was understandably tentative, as she was about to become a very wealthy woman as a full partner in her father’s business. At 22 years of age, she was young, vivacious, vibrant, stunningly good-looking and very intelligent. However, a harsh up-bringing in a strongly disciplined religious environment, Mary had low self-esteem and self-confidence as a result, in spite of her obvious physical and intellectual assets. Having been suppressed by archaic principles borne of history and breeding, she felt unworthy and inadequate. Mary was quietly excited by the progress that women much braver than she, were making loud noises about inequality, fair pay, due respect and recognition, but she dared not voice her opinion for fear of family reprisal.

Mary’s parents, Jacob and Elanor, aside of being deeply religious, stoic and disciplined, were in fact very loving parents. They had borne Mary late in life and given her the benefits of established wealth, a good education and a good, albeit austere, life style. Jacob was a very successful Lawyer, Solicitor, Accountant and businessman. He made a great deal of money on the stock market as a shrewd investor. Being a really good accountant had paid off handsomely, as he understood the value of well-run enterprises and reaped the rewards of sound investments. Now, with a portfolio of blue-chip investments, he didn’t need to work, although he continued as a senior partner in the accountancy business and advisor to the Law firm. The income from his portfolio meant his retirement would be more than comfortable.

 Mary had two older brothers, Eli and Zac, both of whom lost their lives in the second world war, and whilst Jacob and Elanor were very proud of their sons and their decorated war service, they never really recovered from the tragedy of losing their children and could never really understand why they had to die. War has this terrible way of burning those who are left behind, grieving, just at the very moment they are able to celebrate a successful life and a positive future. Elanor, particularly, struggled desperately with the loss and, still grieving for her two sons, passed away, due to ill-health, in 1965. Jacob tried to be strong and reflected external strength of character amongst his peers, for which he was admired. However, his true grief was reflected as he openly wept when eulogising his beloved Elanor, and laying bare his emotions as he expressed sharing her grief at losing their sons.

Perhaps this explained his over-protection of Mary as she grew from teenager to young woman. He was acutely aware of her beauty and intelligence, and constantly worried that her attractiveness would not only bring her undone, but drag her away from him. She was all he had left now and that fear stayed with him for the rest of his life. He need not have worried. Her disciplined upbringing gave her a powerful moral compass, a strong sense of right and wrong and an idealistic picture of what she wanted in a suitor, such that most men in the immediate surrounds did not enter the equation.

After completing High School, Mary was absorbed into the family business and studied Law, Accountancy and Business Management at Sydney University, graduating with Honours, as expected, at just 21 years of age. She had very quickly developed her father’s acumen for investing, and was well on the way, with Jacob’s assistance, to becoming wealthy in her own right. She also had some solid ideas on how the law firm and accountancy practice could be developed by branching into new spheres of activity. She ached to share these ideas with her father, but was still in fear of reprisal from him for having an opinion.

Then, one night over dinner, he said to her: “Mary, your mother and I spent a small fortune on your education. As usual, I expect a good return on my investment. What are you now able to bring to the business that will benefit our profitability?” Mary almost fell off her chair. Her father wanted her opinion?! Really? She took a deep breath, composed herself and tentatively began to speak. “Father we are successful investors. I have learned through University that there are opportunities available to assist other people who do not know how to invest. I believe an investment advice arm to the business on a fee for service basis could be a valuable inclusion to our practice”. Jacob stroked his chin as he pondered her statement. “Mary, I have considered this venture in the past,” he said thoughtfully, “and have left the idea alone. I believe that, in order for that concept to be successful it requires long-term scope and planning”. Mary’s heart sank as she felt he had not warmed to the idea, and braced herself for a reprisal. “However,” he continued, “I believe, with your inclusion to the practice and the longevity you bring to it, the time is now right to expand into this arena. The Hawkesbury region has changed dramatically over the last 20 years or so, and many residents have made handsome profits from their endeavours. They need advice on how to maximise returns and protect both their incomes and their futures. I want you to develop this arm to our business as soon as possible, lest someone else beats us to it!”. Music to Marys ears, she could not stop a tear or two escape her eyes. Acceptance and recognition at last! Knowing Jacob was not one for effusive emotions she simply said “Thank you father, I’ll start on it tomorrow!” “Good girl” he said, “I believe this could be very good for us”.

Tragedy affects everyone, in some way or another, along the journey of life and the McIntyre family were no exception. After many successful years of innovation, hard work and a comfortable retirement, Jacob finally passed away aged 95 in 1990. He had worked in the family business literally until the day he died of a heart failure, and as tragic as his passing was, Mary was comforted by the fact that he died doing what he loved, in the place that he loved, with the people that he loved and in his daughter’s arms. It was a bitter-sweet moment and memories of how she had grown as a woman, cast off the shackles of austerity and subservience to become the powerful, free-spirited, liberated fighter for equality that she was, flooded her eyes. No longer afraid of speaking her mind and acting feverishly for women’s rights, she had won the respect and admiration of her very proud father and made a tidy fortune of her own in the process. Her crowning glories were the development of the very successful financial services arm of the business, and her dogged determination to force the Government of the day to issue Preservation orders on most, if not all, of the historically significant buildings in the Windsor / Richmond greater district. Many wanted her to run for State Parliament, however she felt she would be far more effective as a powerful agent for activism and change.

She tidied up some papers on her desk, straightened out some creases in her clothing and went out to the foyer to receive her first appointment for the day, Mr John Ramsay ………….