Wednesday, August 30, 2023

60 in 60(62) #33 David

 It's been a long hiatus between chapters in this random journey through the last 60 years. So much so, it's now 62 years! The initial burst of energy passed, as did the semi-regular additions. The energy has subsided but the vision is not dead. God willing I will carry on and even complete the series. As a down payment on that "promise", here is a new chapter, about my mate David. He celebrated a milestone birthday on the weekend and I wrote a poem in his honour and read it during the "formal" part of the party. It was well received.

A little context is required.

In the period after losing my job as a school chaplain in Busselton, I worked for SW Coachlines, driving school buses and doing charter work. One such job saw me drive a group of gynaecologists up to Perth airport after a conference at Bunker Bay. By good fortune, David sat in the first seat and upon hearing his English accent I struck up a conversation and quickly discovered we had something in common: a passion for Tottenham Hotspur. The three hour journey was largely consumed with talk of our beloved Spurs. At the airport we exchanged numbers and thus began an ongoing (and continuing) sms dialogue shaped by the results and fortunes of Tottenham. 

David and his family live in Melbourne so when we moved back to Victoria in late 2010 our relationship evolved from text-based to occasional face-to-face contact. Apart from EPL connections we also both love AFL and most sports, though sadly he barracks for Carlton. We've been to Cats v Blues games, the Boxing Day test, the One Day World Cup Final, a couple of Wallabies games, and best of all, a Spurs game at the MCG during an end of season tour down under. 

Our friendship has grown closer and extends to our wives and families. Busyness and distance don't allow for a lot of time together but I always enjoy catching up with him. A couple of months ago David and Orla were returning from a conference in Adelaide and stopped in at my place in Nhill for lunch and a quick visit. 

Therefore, it was great to be able to attend his birthday celebration, and to share some verses in his honour. One more piece of context; In the lead-up to the party I privately messaged the people on the guest list and invited them to contribute a story or anecdote about David and to tell me how they met. I was able to weave several of these stories into the finished work. And here it is:


The Ballad of David Wrede.             

 

A long long time ago in a land far far away

An event occurred that we celebrate today

It was a birth of dodgy noble lineage

A murky mix of ancestral parentage

 

Yes three score years ago and five

Though surely no one else here was yet alive

To bear witness to this momentous deed

The birth of our much loved David Wrede

 

Little is known of his early years

Either that or no one cares

To delve that far back in history

So his childhood can remain a mystery

 

His Mum and Dad, Dilys and Casper 

Met while learning to be actors

I don’t know if his childhood was mild or wild

But suffice to say David is an only child

 

Of mysteries concerning our aged friend

One stands out and may never end

It defies understanding and rationality

But what exactly is his nationality?

 

It changes often, depending on the situation

As to his loyalty to any particular nation

British by birth, a pom that’s the ticket

At least when it comes to the Ashes and cricket

 

His namesake and he have enjoyed many a day

Watching the Poms and the Aussies at play

Usually at the mighty Melbourne Cricket Ground

But once also at Lords, cricket’s most sacred ground

 

I have no desire his reputation to diminish

But another possibility is that David is Finnish

A Baron no less is his noble claim

And perhaps we mispronounce his name?

 

I have no proof  but nor a reason to think he 

Doesn’t bear some title in Helsinki

But I suspect if the Finns were playing the Aussies

He’d be there dressed in a Viking Cozzy

 

Don’t ask me if the Finns were actually Vikings

They could have been Danes or Icelandic kings

They’re all from somewhere in the Nordic regions

And David will surely claim some allegiance

 

Of course he also purports at times to be Irish

Whether tis genuine or a wish to be stylish

Talking of stylish and the Irish nation

We all agree he married well above his station

 

We all applaud Orla, his partner for life

His colleague, his boss and also his wife

A finer pair it would be hard to find

A meeting of hearts, of souls and of minds

 

They married in the Millennial year

A joyous occasion it would appear

More blessing followed three years on 

When their lovely daughter Ciara was born

 

They had a test run in 1998

And agreed Australia is pretty great mate

Though it took another eleven long years

Before they finally emigrated here

 

But back to this vexed question we’re pondering

As to his nationality, we’re all still wondering

Why, when a few years ago he became a citizen of Australia

His loyalty to the Southern Cross is such an abject failure?

 

This land that welcomed him with open arms

This land of so many quirks and charms

Sadly moved him when he came to choose

To barrack for the bloody Blues

 

And worse than that, this year they’ve awoken

Playing finals, but hopefully just a token

Appearance in the early rounds will suffice

To NOT hear Da Da da da da would be nice

 

David studied medicine at Cambridge I believe

I doubt St Thomas was sad to see him leave

After some Christmas Day shenanigans in 1984

When poor Cedric in the A&E caused uproar

 

 

 

As Phil recounts the tale, the bosses weren’t impressed

But ignorant or oblivious to the state of distress

The Casualty Officer, one David Wrede I’ll distinguish

Went hunting for a fire to extinguish

 

Boredom relieving fun was surely intentioned 

But I believe the term unprofessional was mentioned

It’s not a term used now about our illustrious physician

By all accounts he’s greatly respected in the profession

 

A good number of guests gathered here today

And some who couldn’t make it all wanted to say

How much they love and respect the man of the hour

No upper class twit in an ivory tower

 

A few did say their first impression was mistaken

And once past the accent they were thoroughly taken

With the love and the passion, the friendship and loyalty

They began to believe in the tales of royalty

 

Russell for instance, upon meeting at Williamstown

Took a chance and invited him to the races at Terang town

David quickly adapted to the country hospitality

And enjoyed the event with much conviviality

 

Of course, we all know, our friend is shy and quiet

Just don’t mention Boris or the Tories or Brexit

But Russell divulged a juicy tidbit for these scribbles

That to them our David is known as Dribbles

 

A reference not based on a lack of manners or civility
But apparently on his google-like ability

To dribble out knowledge, facts and opinions

Which he readily shares with his colleagues and minions

 

And when we’ve all had enough of his forthright ranting

There’s another forum he loves to expound in

Yes Facebook is the place for venting his spleen 

He’ll argue with KBWs unknown and unseen

 

As you know, David is a long-suffering Spurs fan

He’s Tottenham ‘til he dies, a true Lilywhite man

From McKay and Greaves to Gazza and Waddle

He’s loved them all, from Perryman to Hoddle

 

 

 

That’s how we became mates and remain to this day

Following a bus trip to Perth from Bunker Bay

A meeting of spirits, two Tottenham tragics

From a chance encounter the outcome’s been magic

 

Therefore I’m surprised at a few people who’ve come

Yes those Woolwich invaders, the Gooners, the Scum

There’s Scousers here too I’m led to believe

If it were up to me I’d ask them all to leave

 

But it’s testimony to David’s good humour and grace

That he welcomes the enemy into this place
Georgina for example who upon collecting Antonia revealed

She felt for David as he watched Spurs lose 4-0 at Anfield

 

On the occasion of Ciara’s high school formal 

David’s fatherly instincts were stretched more than normal

Under great sufferance he remained stoic I promise

Despite Ciara’s date being a gooner named Thomas

 

Antonia and Ciara are best friends from school 

Who once went with David and Orla to a music festival

Expecting the cool jazz that our hero favours

The weird mix of sound was not quite to their flavour

 

Other friends here today are connected by Irish jigs

The weird armless world of fake tans and wigs

Ciara’s dancing endeavours led to parental connections

Which Martina describes with sincere affection

 

Ange did take exception to his choice of footy team

And his Melbourne Club excursions where no women are seen

She also mentioned during the Ashes some poor behaviour 

Especially when Steve Smith looked like being our saviour

 

Our hero is known by many titles and names

Doctor, David , Dribbles and Casper the same

As his Dad but who knows which is his fave?

Just whatever you do, don’t call him Dave

 

On occasions like this one tries digging for dirt

But it turned out all respondents were keen to assert

The genuine love and respect that they hold

For Doctor David Wrede and his heart of gold

 

 

 

I asked people how they met, how their friendship began

Many replied that through work was how they met our man

Doctors and nurses, gynaecologists and obstetricians

Members of the understaffed and overworked profession

 

And in truth, man woman and child, as one all agreed

They love and admire our dear David Wrede

Susan summed it up best when she said

“He is genuinely one of the nicest people I’ve ever met”.

 

Unanimously they agreed as they reflected

How much he is loved, admired and respected

I’m sorry I can’t recount all the stories and names

If we don’t blow the candles out soon the house may go up in flames

 

We’ve watched Boxing Day cricket and Spurs at the G 

The Cats play the Blues and Ireland beat the Wallabies

Lunches at wineries, crazy bidding for toys

Regular Spurs texts all ending with COYS

 

David let me finish by saying I love you, our friendship I treasure

Though our shared love of Tottenham brings more pain than pleasure

I hope one day that we’ll realise our dream

And watch a Spurs game together in N17

 

As I wind up these verses I just want to say

I give thanks for our meeting on the bus that day

Your generosity and care have blessed me time and again

I am honoured like all here, to call you my friend.

 



 


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Monday, April 18, 2022

60 in 60 #32 Busselton Pt 2

 60 in 60 #32 Busselton Part 2.

I am reflecting on the last 60 years, and writing 60 blog posts. 30 about people and 30 about events, places, experiences and entities.

 

Busselton was a great place to live, work and raise our family. It’s quiet, pretty, near the beach, near the bush and not too far away from Perth which enabled me to go up to the city fairly often and stay in touch with my mates and the footy.

Is there an Airport Shuttle Bus from Busselton? - Airport Shuttle Perth

 

Sophie Jordan and Paul all went to Cornerstone College where Graeme Cross was Principal and Stu Robinson was the Bursar. Paul started playing soccer for Cornerstone on a Saturday morning and within a couple of seasons I was coaching his team. I coached the same core group of kids for the next several seasons as they played against local teams from Capel, Margaret River, Dunsborough and Busso. Jordy played for the older team for a few seasons as well but it was Paulie who had the most talent. He always loved playing sports of all kinds and was naturally good at most things. In his last couple of years in Busso he played for the Leeuwin-Geographe rep team at Country Week up in Perth.

 

Meanwhile, Cornerstone got better each year as the kids matured and learned to play as a team and employ the tactics and skills I was teaching them. Coaching was fun most of the time but early games on a Saturday morning could be challenging because I had taken on a second job, driving taxis on a Friday and Saturday night. 



I’ve always been a night owl, and I enjoy driving so with that skill set, driving cabs suited me pretty well and brought in some handy extra dollars. The regular pick-up points were the Nade (Esplanade Hotel), the Ship Hotel and the wine bar in the main street. I’d pick passengers up from all over the district and bring them into town sober, then collect them and take them home drunk late at night. The pubs shut at 1.00am and the rush hour usually lasted a couple of hours. Regular fares to and from Dunsborough were profitable, occasional fares to Margaret River or Bunbury were lucrative and one time, a fare to Perth cost the passenger $330 and toward the end of the trip he was trying to convince me he was Jesus! 

Most passengers were good most of the time but every now and then they got under my skin, or were abusive, or did a runner. I saw plenty of strange things on the long nights in the cab and drank plenty of Vanilla Diet Cokes to keep me going. It was not uncommon to get a fare that just wanted to go out to the “24 houry” servo for a feed of greasy junk food after a night on the grog, or to be taken through Maccas drive-through when it came to town because they wouldn’t serve walk through customers. It was not uncommon to pick up kids I knew from work and teachers too. Nick and Kerry Fucile were frequent customers.

 

Busselton Taxis


So after a late night behind the wheel, it was quite an effort to drag myself out of bed to go and coach the kids but I’m glad I did. They were full of energy and enthusiasm and Paul along with 3-4 others were very good players. The highlight came in my last game in charge prior to our move to Victoria. We had made it to the Grand Final against Busselton United to be played at Margaret River on a Saturday morning. My niece Aimee was to be married in Perth in the afternoon! Cornerstone were the underdogs but the kids played out of their skins and thanks to a brilliant free kick goal from Ben Cross we won the game 1-0 and the Cup. I barely had time to hug and high five the kids and parents before jumping in the car and heading for the wedding, making it with minutes to spare.




Nick was responsible for a brief revival in my own sporting career when he invited me to join the Busselton Masters footy team, footy for old blokes. They were a great bunch of blokes and it was fun but as I told Carolyn, I had enough energy to chase after the ball, or to bend down and pick it up, but not both! I played about 20 games all up over the 6 years and even picked up a medal for being in the best players at one of the carnivals in Perth but it was obvious to me, and anyone who was watching, that my best football was a long long way behind me. I also played volleyball all the time we were in Busso, sometimes with kids from the high school as they prepared for Country Week but most of the time with mates. We played A Grade which was very competitive, they take their volleyball very seriously in Busselton. We were 2 sets up in a preliminary final in one season when I came down from a block and landed on an opponent’s foot across the net from me badly twisting my ankle and necessitating a trip to hospital in an ambulance. Not only did it signal the end of my volleyball career, the team went on to lose the prelim 3-2 in my absence!! I was the referees coordinator for 3-4 years as well.

 

Sport in Aussie country towns brings communities together and it provided me with opportunities to establish my role at the school as well. As mentioned in the last chapter I coached the footy team in interschool competition although without the success I’d experienced at Carine. Each year schools from all over regional Western Australia send teams of upper school students to Perth to compete at Country Week in all sorts of sports, from footy and soccer to netball and dance. I went as soccer coach the first year and volleyball coach the next before taking on a much bigger role as Country Week Manager. I had watched a teacher do it the previous year and felt frustrated and annoyed as she continually berated the kids in the lead-up, hassling them about forms and fees and always seeming to come from a place of anger and harshness. I asked the Principal if I could take on the job and she happily consented. I’d like to think I brought a kinder gentler spirit to the job. The team grew to over 100 kids and a dozen staff so there was a lot to organise but it all went off pretty smoothly. John Duthie, head of PE was a great ally and Nick brought character and humour to his coaching of the girls hockey “Nick’s Chicks with Sticks”. One year the bloke who normally arranged our lunch catering wasn’t available so I employed Sophie to do the food and after a shaky first day she quickly got it sussed and did a great job feeding the masses. I rejigged the evening programs to cut down on unnecessary bus travel by utilising venues in the city for the Country Week dinner and a night out at the movies. I spent each day in the car visiting all the different sports venues, dropping off lunches, taking injured kids to hospital and dealing with stuff that needed doing. I loved it and continued in the role of Country Week Manager even after I left the chaplaincy.

 




In 2006 the Commonwealth Games were held in Melbourne. Having had such a brilliant experience at the Sydney Olympics with the kids in 2000 I was very keen to take the younger two, Jordan and Paul to Melbourne. I just needed an excuse. Then it hit me, organise a school trip and take a bunch of kids from Busselton! Brilliant! Thankfully Raelene, the Principal didn’t object and cautiously supported my plan. I think she secretly doubted I could pull it off given the short time frame but I’m always up for a challenge and promptly put out a notice calling for kids who were interested, to come to a meeting at lunchtime a couple of days later. I had put together a budget and itinerary for a 10 day trip that would cost about $1000, covering airfares, Comm Games tickets, accommodation, transport and food. I was delighted when over a dozen kids turned up to the meeting although slightly surprised that they were all girls except for one boy! Disappointingly rather than invite a few mates he dropped out, leaving me with a group of 12 girls all keen to go, along with my two boys and a female PE teacher.

We got busy, I applied for tickets to as many different events as I could, one day and one night event each day, booked the airfares and set about finding accommodation.

I called on the chaplaincy network to make contact with some schools in Melbourne that would consider billeting our group and I was rapt when Chris Helm, chaplain at Box Forest College in Glenroy contacted me to say they were keen. It turned out that Chris is the drummer in a very cool indie band called Skipping Girl Vinegar when he’s not being a chaplain. I went over to Melbourne to meet him and the Principal, Cheryl Baulch who was super supportive of the whole idea and when it turned out to be too hard to get enough billets for us all, offered to let us stay in the school itself. We could use a couple of unused classrooms as our quarters and had  access to the Home Ec room opposite to prepare and eat our meals. It was a perfect arrangement and suited us down to the ground as it made coordinating our movements and transport much easier. They even gave us the school bus to use to get to some events that weren’t as easy to get to by train. To top it all off, Chris picked us up from Avalon airport on arrival and dropped us back there the day we flew home.

 

The Commonwealth Games were great and we saw hockey, swimming, cycling, athletics, basketball, volleyball, table tennis, squash, weightlifting and boxing. I had made ID cards on lanyards for everyone and when we all bought the same zip-up track jackets with “Australia” on the back we started getting asked what were the girls competing in? as people mistook them for athletes and me as their coach! Needless to say the kids loved it! There were night activities at Birrung Marr, along the banks of the Yarra, shopping at the Queen Victoria Markets, tram and train rides and the wonderful atmosphere across Melbourne to enjoy and the 10 days flew by. 

 

There were two unexpected outcomes from the Comm Games trip. The first to do with a fish, the second to do with footy.

 

Throughout the course of the games and featured in the opening ceremony, at the MCG,  were a series of 72 large fish sculptures on barges on the Yarra, each representing one of the countries competing in Melbourne and typifying a fish found in their nation’s waters. They were lit up at night and with “Unguarded Moment” by The Church playing all along the riverbank they made a spectacular sight, creating a beautiful ambience for the crowds of people out each evening. I said to the girls one night, “I wonder what they’re going to do with those fish after the Games are over? Wouldn’t it be cool to get one of those fish for Busselton?” They looked at me strangely and kept walking.

But!

Imagine my surprise and delight a few weeks after we got home when I came across a small article in the newspaper saying that seven of the Commonwealth Games fish sculptures were being auctioned off on ebay with the proceeds going to PLAN, the official charity partner of the Games. I sprang into action and started calling and visiting people all over town, creating a network of supporters willing to contribute some money to a fund in order to buy a fish for Busselton. My idea was greeted quite warmly and people started pledging amounts from $50 to $500 and giving me suggestions of people to call. One of these became the game-changer when I called a bloke called Ray who worked for Pro-Busselton, an agency whose mandate was to promote the town through initiatives that raised the profile of Busselton. He was fully on-board, and even suggested we should bid on all seven fish! We had a budget of about $7000!


Fish Sculptures from the 2006 Commonwealth Games


The night before the auction ended I had to take a trip up to Perth and back, something I rarely did in the one day, let alone the one night. The bidding finished the next morning at about 8am WA time so I was a little groggy when I logged on to ebay. The kids were standing behind me to watch the action. Most serious bidding on ebay happens in the last few minutes and that’s exactly what occurred, the prices started jumping very quickly, by hundreds and thousands of dollars. Some were already out of our price range but I was alive in two auctions in the last minute. As quickly as I’d enter a 4-digit figure I’d be outbid. I kept bidding higher and watching the numbers shoot up across the screen. In the end I managed to win one auction, for the African Bony-Tongue fish sculpture from The Gambia, for about $4500. It was exciting, exhilarating and nerve-wracking, especially bidding with other people’s money. In total the sale of the seven sculptures raised over $28,000 for PLAN I think.


The next job was to get it from Melbourne to Busselton. I called my mate Gary who builds large machinery and asked if he had a transport contact he could recommend. He did and I made the arrangements to get it on a semi-trailer, but before that it needed wrapping for protection. I called Chris from Box Forest and by fortuitous coincidence, he and the members of Skipping Girl Vinegar were only a couple of kilometres away and were happy to help. They bought a big roll of bubble wrap and went to work wrapping my fish. A couple of weeks later it arrived in Busso but sadly that’s where this fishy tale went bad. 


The Gambia

Our fish, An African Bony-Tongue


Initial enthusiasm waned, the council weren’t keen on having it or putting it on display even though there was a perfect location at the entrance to the town. It was stored at the Men’s Shed for several months before being moved to the high school and living outside the art department. I hoped it would be attached to the wall of the art building but by the time we left Busselton in early 2010 it had still not found a permanent home and when I last asked about it no-one seemed to know what had happened to it. 

However, in researching for this article I came across a couple of websites that tell a little more of the story and even give a clue to it’s whereabouts. 

I was contacted by a girl online a couple of years ago who has made it her personal quest to track down each of the 72 Fish and she has a blog detailing her mission, complete with photographs, Fish Blog I even get a mention if you click on the map.

 

After the Comm Games most of the sculptures were given to shires all over Victoria and I have seen several of them in towns around the state in my travels. We actually stopped to look at one at Anglesea this afternoon. The fish I bought was the only one to leave Victoria. This website, Fish locations, details information about the names, origin and known locations of the fish now.

 

After the success of the Commonwealth Games trip I began thinking of other possibilities and that led to me running two footy trips to Melbourne in 2008 and 2009. It wasn’t hard to find kids who loved football and who wanted to spend a week in Melbourne going to as many footy games as possible! Box Forest were happy to have us again and I managed to get good airfares and footy tickets to make the trips affordable. We went during the July holidays so the kids didn’t miss any school. On the first trip in 2008 I took ten kids and we went to Carlton v St Kilda on Friday night, Geelong v Fremantle and Essendon v Brisbane on Saturday and Hawthorn v Sydney on Sunday as well as the Queen Vic markets, National Gallery  and Melbourne Discovery Centre. At the end of the trip the other staff accompanied the kids back to WA while I flew up to Sydney to join my mate Alex for the Pope’s visit for World Youth Day.

 

In 2009 Geelong and St Kilda remained unbeaten until their epic encounter in Round 14 and as anticipation of this clash grew I set about organising another footy trip. I was more ambitious this time and worked out a schedule that took us to six games over two weekends including a stopover in Adelaide on the way home. Fourteen kids signed up for the trip including one brave girl and Sophie came with us. It was a fantastic trip except for one thing. Between the group we barracked for six different teams but not one of us saw our team win! 

The Cats v Saints game at Docklands was a classic, befitting their status at the top of the ladder and the biggest crowd ever at Docklands saw a thriller with St Kilda winning by a goal after a goal from Cameron Ling in the last minute was disallowed. They met again a few months later in the 2009 Grand Final and this time the Cats got up by 12 points to win the flag, but as detailed in chapter 24 of “60 in 60” that did not end well for me.

 

Between the weekends of footy we took a trip to Sovereign Hill at Ballarat and stayed a night at a school there then stopped for a kick of the footy at Hanging Rock on the way back. We went to the AFL Hall of Fame and National Sports Museum as well as going down to Geelong for a day. I had arranged another school to stay at in Adelaide which worked out well but the Dockers got absolutely thrashed by the Crows that night to finish off a series of six losing games.

 

Article Image


The following is an excerpt form chapter 24 about the Geelong v St Kilda game.

 

Now, in 2009,  with the big game approaching I hit on the idea of running a footy trip and taking a group from Busso to Melbourne. I asked Sophie to come with me to help run the trip. Fourteen kids signed up and I got busy organising everything, including staying at Box Forest again. The biggest challenge was securing tickets for the Geelong St Kilda game. On the morning they were released I frantically logged on to Ticketmaster and bought batches of tickets in groups of 4 or 5 as I knew it would be too hard to get 16 tickets all together. I was successful. My group of West Aussie kids had tickets for the game of the season. The trip itinerary included five other games across two weekends of the school holidays with a stopover in Adelaide to see Fremantle play the Crows on the way home.

The trip was fantastic and the game lived up to all the hype and expectation. It was a cliff hanger, with Cameron Ling kicking a goal to level the score in the last minute, only to have it ruled out by a free kick to St Kilda and the Saints hung on to win by 6 points. It is often talked about as one of the best games in AFL history and certainly whetted people’s appetites for a rematch in the finals.

 

 

Life in Busso was not all about sport though. I will conclude the Busselton section of 60 in 60 next time with stories about many other things that happened during our six years down south.

Sunday, March 27, 2022

60 in 60 #31 Busselton

 60 in 60 #31    Busselton

 

I am reflecting on the last 60 years, and writing 60 blog posts. 30 about people and 30 about events, places, experiences and entities.  NB. I did not want to leave such a long gap between posts but starting a new job has taken up most of my time and energy so far this year. I will keep writing until I reach the goal but some chapters may end up under the title "60 in 61"!


 

As a family we were part of the Augusta Beach Mission/Family Festival for 12 years, spending two weeks each January with a large team of volunteers running programs for children, teenagers and adults at Turner Caravan Park in the south-west of WA. I have fantastic memories of many many great experiences during our time at Augusta but the prompt for this chapter is something that happened on our way home from Beach Mission in January 2004.


Busselton WA (Western Australia) cruise port schedule | CruiseMapper


 

We stopped in Busselton to get some lunch, possibly fish and chips, to eat by the foreshore.

Busselton was a quiet little town on Geographe Bay, the quiet cousin of the more popular and more up-market Margaret River just down the road. It boasts the longest jetty in the southern hemisphere but for several years the last section was inaccessible following damage caused by cyclone Alby.

After a peaceful lunch we bundled the kids back in the car for the trip back to Perth.

Carolyn remarked “I love Busselton”. 

I replied casually, “The chaplaincy position at the high school is open”.

Without drawing breath she said “Do you want to apply for it?”

I was surprised by the enthusiasm and excitement in her tone, I had only mentioned it in passing, not with any intent, but it became clear as we talked that Carolyn was VERY keen on the idea. She has always loved being near the ocean and prefers small towns to big cities so I could see the attraction.

 

I should point out at this point that I was extremely happy and settled in my role as chaplain at Carine. I had built the role up from inception to become an established and respected part of the school, I loved the staff and students, I was running successful programs and was highly involved in the life and culture of the school. I wasn’t looking for a change, in fact, I could have very happily still been at Carine now, but my casual comment was the catalyst for a dramatic change in our lives.

 

We talked about the pros and cons of the job at Busselton most of the way home and by the time we got back to Perth it was settled, I would apply for the job. But, I then discovered that applications closed the following day!!!!! Eeek! Panic stations! I got straight to work pulling together a resume and application, identifying referees and responding to the selection criteria. It was a rushed job but I got it in before the deadline.

 

I said to Carolyn, “This is a big decision and we need to be sure it’s right or that we are confident it’s where God is leading us.” I told her that given the fact I had 11 years experience as a chaplain there was a strong likelihood I would get the job, so just getting the job was not enough of a confirmation. We set about testing the water by talking to several people whose views and wisdom we respected to see what they thought.

I rang Dad to talk it over. He was not a believer but he was very positive about moving to a small country town and said the job sounded like a good move to him. I rang Paul in the States to discuss it and he was similarly positive. NB. Paul and I had ridden our bikes around Busselton a few years earlier when he came to Beach Mission with us so he knew the town, and the jetty because we’d been told off for trying to ride our bikes out onto it!

We invited a group of friends to come for a BBQ and asked them their thoughts about the move. My mate Birchy told me that for him, the most important factor in a big decision is how did the family feel about it? As the father of 8 kids he obviously has a greater accountability to family than most people! I told him that Carolyn and the kids were 100% on board and at that stage I was the only one still uncertain. He responded that the other guide for him was prayer and a sense of God’s leading. At that point in the discussion I mentioned that I remembered something I’d written in the margin of my Bible years earlier while listening to a sermon. The preacher had said “A ship is safe in a harbour, but ships aren’t built for harbours”. I admitted that I was in a safe harbour at Carine but maybe God was saying it was time to sail off to a new place and a new challenge.

 

I was offered an interview and duly headed down south a couple of days later. Old friends Laurie and Sonia Haynes and Noel and Steph Kara were living in Busselton by then so I had somewhere to stay the night before meeting the District Council. The interview went very well and the next day they rang to offer me the job. After all the time, thought and prayer we had invested and all the green lights we’d received I was sure it was the right move, with one stipulation. They wanted me to start straight away but I said I needed a term to tie up loose ends, finish my time at Carine and prepare for the big move. They granted my request and I was duly appointed as chaplain at Busselton SHS, to commence in Term 2 2004.

 

There was a lot to do! After some intense tidying and sprucing we put the house on the market. Zachariah had just started Year 12 at Carine and we were loath to disrupt his final year so I set about finding a family at Carine he could board with. We needed plenty of time to deal with all the usual preparing and packing that goes with a move, bearing in mind that we still had four kids at home, with Paulie the youngest just starting primary school.

After many previous moves which we had always done ourselves, this time we did the smart thing and hired a removal company! (Not so smart when they turned up without our bed the day we moved in!!) 

 

I was blessed with a great goodbye from Carine and many expressions of thanks and appreciation for my work at the school. They held a farewell evening attended by many past and current students and staff members. It reinforced how special my time at Carine had been and how much I was going to miss the people, many of whom had become friends and mates as well as colleagues. Even now, nearly 20 years later I’m still in touch with several Carine friends and on rare visits back there I am always warmly welcomed. The Principal during most of my time there, Cesare DiGuilio enthusiastically supported me as a referee when I started applying for teacher positions in 2019.

 

In late April 2004 Zach was settled in with his host family and Carolyn, Sophie, Jordan, Paul and I set off for our new life down south.

 

We rented a house in Harvest Road for the first several months while we looked at houses for sale. We considered building on a block of land we had put a deposit on but the estate rules wouldn’t let us build with the design and materials we wanted so we kept looking and eventually found a fantastic house in College Ave, less than a kilometre from the school. 

It was perfect.

 

Home - Busselton Senior High School


On my first day at the school I had an appointment with Raelene, the Principal and she gave me copies of a couple of previous Yearbooks so I could get a feel for the school. I opened one up to a page with an article by one of the Deputy Principals. At the top of the page she quoted: “A ship is safe in a harbour, but ships aren’t built for harbours”. I knew then that our move by faith was right and God had put his final stamp on our decision.

 

Our School - Busselton Senior High School


When I started at Busselton High the chaplain’s office was in the old caretaker’s house at the far end of the school and not very accessible. Despite this I had a steady stream of visits from kids wanting to talk about stuff and I felt part of the school from the outset. Visibility and connection increased significantly when the new student services suite was completed and I moved into my new office in the admin wing. As I had at Carine, I recreated the décor, a mix of pictures, planes and ephemera all over the walls and ceiling, and I looked for things I could get involved in, and any areas I could introduce new programs. 

I quickly made contact with two local church youthworkers, Stu Robinson and Rod Muir and we ran the Big Breakfast once a week, providing BBQ’d snags, toast and fruit for kids arriving at school. This evolved into Synoptic Youth, a partnership that saw us running a weekly lunchtime program called Phat Phriday. Crazy games and competitions were the order of the day, with the most memorable being “Frozen Chicken Ten Pin Bowling” on a strip of black plastic lubricated with water and detergent. The kids loved it but I got complaints about wasting food from an unnamed teacher. The next time we did it I took the chicken home, cleaned it up, cooked it and ate it! 

 

There were some great people on staff at Busso and I quickly aligned myself with David Gault -Gaultie- in Phys Ed and later Student Services coordinator, John Duthie head of PE and Nick Fucile in the Maths dept. I took on coaching the junior footy team in the Channel 7 Cup. In 2005 I  entered Busselton  in the Chaplains Cup, a competition I had started at Carine for Yr 10 kids because they were too old for the Channel 7 Cup and too young for the Smarter than Smoking Cup. 

 

It was while coaching Busso that I met Brendan Fitzgerald- Fitzy, a curly-headed bright-eyed kid playing in the back pocket. We went up to Perth for the comp, with the final being played under lights, and stayed the night in Perth. It was the week before the AFL Grand Final between Sydney and the Eagles and while we were having breakfast at McDonalds I heard on the radio that there had been extra GF tickets made available for West Coast members. I was already booked to fly to Melbourne to attend a week-long training course for a program called Rock and Water in the first week of the September holidays so I called a mate who was an Eagles member and using his barcode, spent half an hour on the phone and managed to get a Grand Final ticket. 

The game was a classic (albeit low-scoring) contest, one of several between Sydney and West Coast in that era. It came down to a heroic mark by Leo Barry in the final seconds to stop West Coast kicking the winning goal and Sydney held on to win by a point. Being an avowed West Coast hater I was ecstatic when Sydney broke their 72 year premiership drought, even though two weeks earlier Nick Davis and the Swans had broken my heart by snatching an incredible come from behind victory over Geelong in the dying seconds of the semi-final. To this day my mates know that the name Nick Davis raises my hackles!

 

The Rock and Water course was great, some of the best professional development I’ve ever experienced. On the Sunday morning I had a kick of the footy with a few mates at a local park. When we got home for lunch the news was breaking of the second Bali Bombing.

I was stunned to see a familiar face on the news broadcast: Brendan Fitzgerald was one of the Australians killed in the terrorist attack, his sister was badly injured and his Dad was left a paraplegic. I felt numb. Just a week before I’d taken him and the footy team to Perth and now he was dead! About an hour later I received a phone call from a parent at the school asking if I could come and support the kids who were shocked and grieving. I explained I was still in Melbourne. He told me there had been a hasty plan made to get the boys from the school and the footy club together the next night to try and manage their grief, and anger. I said I would try and be there. I was not due to fly home until midweek but I rang Qantas at Tullamarine and explained the circumstances and asked if I could get an emergency change of flights on compassionate grounds. They were understanding and supportive and booked me on a flight for the next day. I arrived in Perth, picked up my car and immediately headed back down to Busselton in a race against time to make it to the gathering. I got there about 20 minutes after the start time and walked in to find a room packed  with teenagers and parents all sharing a common sense of shock, disbelief, sadness and grief at the death of Brendan. I didn’t do much talking, I just listened and encouraged the kids to talk about their feelings and share their reactions. It was a terrible thing for them to deal with but the connection and support they felt by being together was helpful. I told them that while I understood they may feel angry, that they should not use Brendan’s death as an excuse to express hatred or racism or to take it out on others, that Fitzy would not have wanted acts of violence or hate committed in his name. 

 

When school went back there was a deep sense of grief, compounded by the fact that a teacher from Busselton had been killed in the first Bali bombing and another teacher badly burnt. Lightning had struck the school twice.

As part of the Student Services team I suggested we hold a memorial service for Brendan. The task fell to me to organise the event, to be held later in the week. I got his closest mates together and worked with them so that it truly reflected him. When I asked who his favourite teacher was they said Mr Pates. I knew he was the right person to speak at the service but he was away on an outdoor ed camp at Margaret River and unable to be contacted. I drove down to the campsite and asked him if he’d speak about Fitzy at the memorial. He didn’t want to do it but I persisted because I knew he was Brendan’s favourite teacher, he knew him best and he was the right man for the job. In the end he reluctantly agreed. Two of Brendan’s mates also agreed to speak. We chose music he loved and put together a slideshow on powerpoint and lots of people contributed pictures. 

 

                                 Bali bomb victim: My happy ending


I then got a phone call from Brendan’s Mum Lisa asking if it would be OK if she came to the memorial. I hadn’t deliberately  excluded her but because it was a school-based event, to be held in the gym after school one afternoon, all of our planning and thinking was along those lines. I said of course she could come, it would be an honour to have her there. 

 

As expected, the gym was totally packed for the memorial and the kids handled it with great reverence and respect. The mates who spoke did a wonderful job and despite his reluctance, Graham Pates did a brilliant job. By that stage I had done a lot of funerals and memorials and knew what worked and how best to create a fitting tribute and an atmosphere where friends family and staff could express their grief freely and openly. I was really pleased with how it went but was still surprised when Lisa called me the following day and asked if I would conduct Brendan’s funeral? I humbly accepted the task, knowing that it would be a high profile event and that getting it right was extremely important to his family. Fitzy’s parents were divorced so there were some delicate negotiations regarding who wanted what. I spent a lot of time with Lisa and his sister, who was now out of hospital but had burns and perforated eardrums, talking about Brendan, their memories, their sadness, their happy times and laughter, about his character and personality, how he used to come bouncing down the stairs in his socks and slide across the floor each morning, announcing his presence in style. 


I drove up to Perth to meet his Dad who was still in hospital but was determined to be at the funeral. He had taken the kids to Bali for the holiday so there was a measure of regret and feelings of guilt that he struggled with, but at the same time, he told me how happy Brendan had been, how he had tried surfing for the first time the day of the bombing and had stood up on his first attempt. They had gone out to dinner to celebrate and enjoy being on holiday as a family and then tragedy struck in the form of terrorism, evil perpetrated against innocent people, killing men, women and children and shattering the lives of those remaining. His Dad, Terry wanted Brendan to be buried rather than cremated, telling me with tears in his eyes, “He’s been burnt enough!”


                                      A Beautiful Boy: The Story of How the Bali Bombings in 2005 Affected One  Family: Fitzgerald, Terry: 9780646489384: Amazon.com: Books

His Dad wrote a book about Brendan and the impact of the bombing on the family. Some of the eulogies and reflections I gave at the funeral are included in the book.

 

I called upon the same mates and Graham to speak at the funeral, along with family members. It was a massive event, drawing media attention from across Australia and I found myself in a media spokesman role, speaking on behalf of the family to protect their privacy and guard them from the spotlight as they mourned their son. The service went well but by the end I was spent, I had spent many hours and late nights in preparation, and prayer, and been heavily involved in supporting the family as well as students and staff at the school. It is a special privilege to serve families in their time of greatest need and deepest sadness, one I always approached with total commitment and seriousness, knowing that it would form final memories of a family’s loved one. After it was over I was mentally and emotionally exhausted. 

 

I remained in contact with Lisa for several years after Brendan died and occasionally called in to see how she was going and I know from her response and the feedback of others that she appreciated my ongoing support and care.

 

Dealing with Fitzy’s death, happening as it did, a little over a year after starting at the school, went a long way towards establishing my role and ministry within the school. I received a lot of thanks and positive feedback and won a measure of respect amongst the staff, students and school community as a result.

 

 Circle of Life Memorial | Monument Australia

There is a plaque for Fitzy at this Peace Park memorial site on the Busselton foreshore.

 

I have more stories and recollections of my time at Busselton but considering how far apart each chapter of 60 in 60 is now getting written, I will post this section now and pick up the story again next time. 

 

Saturday, January 15, 2022


 60 in 60 #30    Letchy 

 

I am reflecting on the last 60 years, and writing 60 blog posts. 30 about people and 30 about events, places, experiences and entities.

 

I met a lot of really good people during my sixteen years in school chaplaincy and made many close friends. The one I have the greatest affection for is Letchy. He was christened Greg Letch but is universally known and loved as Letchy. He was chaplain at Morley SHS when I was at Carine and we met at one of the regular PD/training days run by Youthcare. 

I don’t have distinct memories of our first meeting but I know we hit it off pretty quickly, having much in common: young families, a love of footy and sport, and a passion for working with kids. Letchy and his wife Sheryl trained as Salvo Ministers in the eastern states before he became a chaplain. They’ve lived in Ballajura for the last 30-odd years, not far away from my big brother Alan’s place, and have three sons, Ryan, Garred and Daniel, all of whom are now married.


 

I have much clearer memories of our first adventure. We both enjoyed playing golf so I suggested we go out to The Vines Resort to watch the Heinekin Open Golf Tournament one January. He has some rellies who live at the Vines which gave the added bonus of access to the swimming pool to cool off during the heat of a Perth summer. I had taken Paulie the year before and he rode his bike around as we joined the galleries following players like Greg Norman and Ian Woosnam. He had scored a signed glove from Aussie Major winner Wayne Grady as well. I persuaded Letchy we should take our mountain bikes so we could get around the course quicker. What we hadn’t counted on was the over-officiousness of the course marshals who tried to stop us riding our bikes. Why? To avoid damage to the course! You mean the course where 30,000 people have been traipsing up and down for the last week, and the countless buggies and service vehicles, media crews etc etc? I stress, we were never riding on the fairways, only on the paths and spectator areas beyond the rough. We continued to ride, trying to avoid the marshals but when we got near the clubhouse they had called in reinforcements, a couple of on duty police officers! As we approached them they signalled for us to stop. I looked the other way and kept riding! Letchy wasn’t so quick, or rebellious, and was baled up by the constabulary! He got a talking to and was told not to ride on the course any more. I found him a little later and we went for a swim to keep out of trouble! When Sheryl heard the story later I think she thought I was a bad influence on her husband!

 

Around this time I was pretty involved with SU (Scripture Union) as a volunteer camp leader and a number of us were invited to a meeting and challenged to come up with ideas for camps SU could run during the various school holiday periods. SU runs lots of camps: hiking, caving, abseiling, canoeing, white water rafting, wilderness camps, as well as creative and performing arts, beach festivals, MAD camp as mentioned in #29, sailing camp etc. I was stuck for a new idea until a Eureka moment occurred a week or two later. I had a flash of inspiration- Footy Camp! I would recruit a bunch of mates who shared my passion for football and we would run a camp in the July holidays for kids who loved footy! I will devote a future chapter of 60 in 60 to the legendary tales of Footy Camp but suffice to say here that Letchy was one of my first recruits, despite his sad affliction of being a West Coast Eagles supporter. He was already umpiring local junior footy which made him a logical choice as umpy for the daily battles between the Cats and the Dogs, the two teams at Footy Camp. 

I directed the camp for about five years from the late 90s and it is still going strong now, some twenty years later. Stay tuned for the full Footy Camp story in the next month or two.



Similarly, Letchy was an inaugural coach in the CFFL as mentioned in #28 and he has contributed many memorable moments in the annals of that august fantasy footy league, but alas, they will have to wait for a future chapter as well.

 

In 2003 I invited Letchy and another mate, Birchy to join me for a footy weekend in Melbourne. I took Zach, and Letchy brought Garred making a party of five flying out of Perth on a Thursday night. It was round 7 of the AFL season and we went to 3-4 games over the weekend, the main attraction being the game between the Cats and the Eagles at Kardinia Park on Saturday afternoon. Geelong started on fire, with David Wojcinski and Paul Chapman kicking goals but as was often the case in those days, West Coast had Geelong’s measure and hit back. The result was a rare draw which was pretty unsatisfying for all of us. We had a kick of the footy on the ground afterwards before heading back to Melbourne for a night game at the MCG. It was great to hang out with some mates and to be able to bring our sons along as well. 

 

I was always looking for ways to get kids from school involved in stuff, especially if it was positive, challenging or a Christian event. Letchy was of a similar mind so we combined resources one year and took a group of kids from Carine and Morley down to SaltBush, a Christian Music Festival that ran at Katanning for a few years. Our mate and fellow chaplain Sev, Tony Severin, was part of the organising team. Camping, music, food and fun made it a great event, especially with a trip to the big adventure playground in town, complete with giant slides, swings and things that went round and round or up and down. 

 

Doing stuff with Letchy was always great for two reasons. He is a great companion, a funny, lovable character, always up for an adventure and a laugh, but he is also a godly man with a heart full of compassion, love and wisdom. Many many times our conversations would turn to deeper subjects, how we were travelling in our marriages and relationships, our walk with God and our work and ministry with young people. Countless times Letchy has given me insights and reflections that speak deeply to my situation, especially in the difficult times when I battled mental health problems and depression. He is one of those people who has spiritual understanding but has his feet firmly planted on the ground. He was not afraid to challenge me about things or to gently point out where I was going wrong but always in an attitude of love and mateship.

 

I write this in the past tense only because having lived on opposite sides of the country for the last ten years we rarely get the chance to hang out together these days. I miss those times a lot.

 

I know Letchy will agree 100% when I say that the best times we’ve had together were when we hiked sections of the Bibbulmun Track which stretches over a thousand kilometres from the Perth hills all the way to Albany in the deep south-west of WA. While some people are able to set aside the 40-odd days it takes to walk the whole track in one go, we set out with the aim of hiking end to end in stages, for 2-3 days at a time. We started at Kalamunda and set off on the first stage carrying heavy packs, food and water, sleeping bags and cooking equipment, enough for three days. There are hiker’s huts at regular intervals all the way along the track and most people hike one or two sections per day, roughly 20 kilometres. The huts have three walls, tables and benches, drop dunnys, firepits and water tanks. Sometimes we shared quarters with other hikers, sometimes we were the only ones there for the night. It was pretty hard going to start with until we got used to the weight and how best to manage our equipment and provisions, especially in the hillier sections. We walked at a steady pace and talked a lot. Not constantly, there were plenty of stretches where we walked in silence and soaked in the beauty and peace of the Australian bush, but we also talked and listened and shared our stories, thoughts, feelings and opinions. We had a good understanding of how each other were going and knew when it was time to stop for a rest, a drink, or for lunch. One of the greatest luxuries in life is eating a simple meal of Cup-a-Soup, crackers with tuna and cheese and a bite-sized chocolate bar while sitting in a shady spot in the bush with one of your best mates. We loved it and felt like we were eating like kings on those days. It amuses me no end to recount that one day while at work I decided to replicate that sort of meal for lunch and discovered it was nowhere near as satisfying when eaten sitting in my office as it was on a fallen tree in the bush with Letchy!

We did four hikes over a couple of years and from memory made it as far as Dwellingup on the last one before circumstances changed and put a stop to our hikes. 

 

We moved to Victoria in 2011. 

 

We didn’t give up on our goal. I was all set to go to Perth and hike a further section when I had a mishap, slipping over while cleaning vomit out of a bus!! I badly wrenched my knee and had to make a painful call to Letchy to say I wouldn’t be able to go hiking with him on that trip! We were both deeply disappointed. I did get back to WA and hike another section with Letchy about a year later.

A few traditions developed on our evenings on the Bibbulmun. Letchy would spend hours tending to his feet, treating and patching hot spots and blisters with creams and bandages, all the while complaining about his boots and lamenting that the latest incarnation of footwear he was wearing were no better than the previous pair of boots. While I felt sorry for him and the pain and discomfort he suffered, it always amused me that my feet never gave me any trouble even if I was wearing a cheap pair of op shop sneakers!

While he was being foot doctor, I would read aloud entries in the log books that were kept at each hiker’s hut and then write up our story of the day. 

 

Our Bibbulmun adventures carry some painful memories as well. On the trip we had to abort due to my injury we had planned to take Ryan and a young Afghan boy called Huss that Greg and Sheryl had fostered for a number of years. He was a refugee from that troubled country and the Letches had welcomed him into their home and their hearts, treating him like a son. Letchy still wanted the boys to have the Bibbulmun experience so a few weeks later he went with them on his own and they hiked a section of the track. 

Less than a year later tragedy struck and Huss took his own life. It was a devastating and heart-breaking time and I vividly remember crying with them on the phone when I heard the news. Any death is sad but the death of a young person carries a level of sadness that is hard to fathom or describe, and when you add the extra dimension of suicide, the pain and anguish defies description entirely. My heart ached for my mate and his wife and family but my pain was a mere shadow of the hurt they experienced.

There was nothing I could do except be there, on the other end of the phone, and to offer my love, care and sympathy. 

 

I did have an opportunity several months later to do something concrete and symbolic to support my mate. Letchy and I returned to the Bibbulmun and hiked the same section he had walked with the boys, retracing their steps and reliving the memories that were now so precious to Letchy. I read their journal entries in the log books and then added my own thoughts and reflections in tribute to Huss and to my great mate. 

I’m not sure when it will happen but I trust we will get back out on the Bibbulmun again.


 

After Letchy left chaplaincy he started working as a bus driver in Perth. Years later when we moved back to Victoria I also started working as a bus driver and we shared stories of strange customers, difficult drivers, common problems and mishaps on the road. I think he told me he’d broken eight mirrors one year! He still drives a Party Bus on weekends.

 


After I finished directing RYLA seminars we looked for something we could do as a family instead of me doing stuff with other people and Carolyn being left with the kids on her own. The thing we found was SU’s Augusta Beach Mission, an annual event at Turner Caravan Park in Augusta, the most south-westerly town in Australia. For the following twelve years we were part of the team of Christian families and volunteers who ran programs for children, teenagers, adults and families who were camping at Augusta in the first two weeks of January. I was part of the teenage team the first year while Carolyn worked with the pre-schoolers. Our kids joined in all the programs. I graduated to leader of the teen program for a few years before eventually becoming the Mission Director. We loved spending the first couple of weeks of the year in an outreach ministry in a beautiful part of the world, with people we loved. There were lots of changes along the way and our team grew in the process. In the last 3-4 years we were involved there were about 80 people on the team when you counted all the kids, teenagers and young people. 

 

I invited Letchy and his family and Birchy and his clan to join the team and for several years the Holts, Letches and Birches enjoyed camping together at Augusta as part of the SU team. The program name changed from a beach mission to a family festival and we got better and better at running great programs that included, music, drama, games, movie nights, quiz nights, Q&A forums, kids clubs, teenage adventure activities and concerts. As the festival grew in size and scope we needed to develop a new leadership model. We decided on a leadership team that divided roles up according to people’s skills. Rolf became the administrator, taking care of all the organisation and paperwork, Paul and Michael organised all the drama and children’s programs and Letchy became the logistics officer, arranging, collecting and managing all the equipment including marquees, tents and the bus. My role became team leader/MC. We had a kitchen team led by experienced cooks who provided amazing food for 80 people three times a day. I even recruited Mum and Walter onto the team and Mum was wonderful running craft activities each morning with the mums and ladies. There were some truly gifted and amazing people on the team and a huge amount of work went into preparing and training the team each year before we got to Augusta. (I will probably devote a chapter to SU and our time at Augusta, there are so many people and events that form such special memories for us.) 

Letchy was brilliant at his job and Sheryl was equally as good in working with the little kids. I have great memories and images of Sheryl and Carolyn working together at Augusta and our friendship as families grew even stronger through being part of the festival team. Garred and Daniel in particular grew into leadership roles within the team as well.

 

Before Covid I usually managed to get back to WA about once a year to visit family and friends. I always stay at least one night at Letchy’s, the “Ballajura Motor Inn”. I always feel welcome and comfortable there and love catching up with such close friends. Letchy is the essence of a genuinely good bloke. He’s warm, friendly, funny and caring. He gives me big hugs and always makes me feel special, loved and cared for. We laugh together, and we cry together. We celebrate and commiserate. We muck around and we get serious. He’s one of the very best people I know.

 

Love ya Letchy!