It Was 99 Years Ago Today

An Ode to my Dad.

It was 99 years ago today,

A young Tiger was born near here,

June 11^th was the chosen day,

A young lad who had no fear.

My Dad was a warrior,

A fighter who worked his way,

He lacked an education,

But he always had something to say.

A child of the great depression,

He knew how things could be rough,

So his spirit was forged in hardship,

Creating a man who was genuinely tough.

He did love to sing,

A beautiful voice he rarely showed,

His passions were somewhat denied,

But when he sang his face just glowed.

He loved to play football,

A great player so they say,

But a knee injury at 17

And my Dad could no longer play.

He was touched by war,

But not too much so,

He came of age near the end,

That time made young men grow.

Working his way to who knows where,

Many roles he did explore,

Till as a tobacco buyer he went to FNQ

His future was knocking on the door.

He met my Mum in Innisfail

A young nurse so far from home,

It is amazing how two souls can meet,

When they both set out to roam.

This is the time when my Dad began to shine,

Taking on roles that few would dare,

A City Boy running a Cattle station,

Out in the middle of nowhere.

My Mum and Dad were a team,

As they began to build their clan,

It was 9 kids eventually,

Over and eighteen year span.

From Cattle Station to Dairy Farm

My Dad gave it all a crack,

He learned what he needed to as he went,

Keeping his growing family on track.

Then drought dealt a heavy blow,

The 60’s climate change,

Life became almost impossible,

On the hot, dry Toowoomba range.

But never to be defeated,

A pivot was what was needed,

Working part time in a pub to make ends meet,

A new calling had to be heeded.

So, a new dawn arrived,

With so many new things to learn,

The farmer became a publican,

His wins he was forced to earn.

After three years in a country town,

As his family grew and grew,

A move to a bigger domain called,

My folks expanded their view.

Next was a Pub in Collingwood,

A tough inner Melbourne site,

A multicultural melting pot,

Where my hopes and dreams took flight.

Back in his home town,

My Dad so began to shine,

He was known throughout the land,

For his establishment run so fine.

I watched him work so hard,

Dedicated to his committed goal,

With my Mum there having his back,

They gave their heart and their soul.

He went on to rejuvenate several pubs,

He just always knew what to do,

Perhaps it was the suppressed artist,

Who knew just how to see it through.

But I look at my Dad’s life

And recall Homer’s Iliad tale,

My Dad’s life was a hero’s journey,

Tenacity wouldn’t let him fail.

Whatever he put his hand to,

He surely made it his own,

Through the tough years of the 20’s

A sturdy seed was sown.

He wasn’t a perfect man,

Sometimes he could be unfair,

But the thing that really shines through,

Is the depth of his fierce love and care.

He left us too young,

The victim of man a smoke-filled space,

But he left us the way he lived,

All organise, everything in place.

Even to this very day,

When some juicy footy news I’ve to share,

I reach for my phone to tell him,

And remember that he is no longer there.

He was so proud of all his kids,

And the way our lives are expressed,

In his eyes and in his heart,

We were all among the very best.

I only have a single regret,

But it is a lovely feeling it’s true,

He never got to meet my grandsons,

But in them, I feel him shining through.

RIP BJT – You left a fine mark.

!