Tagged: Family RSS

  • James 10:23 PM on 11/12/2009 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: Family   

    When I Was Five 

    This was before I started school, as we were still living in Kyogle Street. I'm guessing I was about 4-5 years old.

    This was before I started school, as we were still living in Kyogle Street. I'm guessing I was about 4-5 years old.

    I played football or catchies or a combination of both with my five year old nephew this afternoon.

    Well, I threw it to him so that he could catch it. And then he threw or kicked it back to me, which meant I had to run half-way around the yard as some of his hand-eye co-ordination skills are still developing.

    He’s going to kindergarten at the moment, ahead of starting school next year. And thus, he still has the great innocence and joy of youth. He’s passed the terrible twos, but hasn’t reached the cynical sixes yet :)

    Did I feel in any way clucky? Nah, as he’s quite the chatter-box. Believe me, a small amount of a five year old goes a long way.

    I love his honesty though. My family have started to calling me “James” instead of Jimmy, which I’ve been known by for almost all of my adult life. “It’s Jimmy, not James” he keeps reminding them.

    I guess they’ve come to a collective decision you can’t be a “Jimmy” when you’re 44 years old. I quite like, however, having a name that my family calls me that no one else does, except perhaps when they’re being sarcastic.

    It’s part of that bond you have with your family, but not your friends. And equally you have a bond with your friends that you don’t have with your family.

    So today, we just hung out. We watched some television. We went to the supermarket. I renewed my Worker’s Club Membership, we visited some relatives. Nothing much in particular, but rich in many ways.

     
  • James 11:05 PM on 24/10/2008 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: Family   

    Facebook Family 

    Bertha O'Brien (Dunn), James O'Brien, Bertha Dunn (Rixon)

    Bertha O'Brien (Dunn), James O'Brien, Bertha Dunn (Rixon)

    Through Facebook I’ve recently made contact with some long-lost extended family members. And this week, two of them have left some interesting comments on an old photograph I posted a while back of me, with my mum and my granny.

    “Wow, I havent seen many photos with granny in them”, one of them wrote, while the other added, “oh my god. i can’t remember granny when she could walk around. I remember your mum but not as good as i thought. they look so much like nan. i cant believe it”.

    They’re my second cousins. Their mother Julie was my elder first cousin with whom I grew up, and I remember when they were born. I was also page-boy at their mother’s first wedding. And now they’re in their twenties (thirties?) with children of their own.

    Both comments, as well as some recent events in the family, have been a reminder I’m no longer “the younger one” in my family. Suddenly I’m the grown up who the younger ones look up to (kinda), and who the older ones rely upon (kinda).

    At the funeral of my similarly-aged nephew, last year, for example, I found myself moving between the generation I grew up with, and the remains of the older generation who I used to look up to. Of my mum and dad’s brother’s and sister’s (a total of 10), there’s only two left.

    “Who’s that?”, I was asked by my ageing aunt at one point, telling her it was the husband or child of “such and such”.

    In each family, of course, there’s always someone who is the lynch-pin who keeps everyone in contact. In my family I guess it was my mum and my granny. And when they both died, and there was no longer a house on which to focus the family connection, a lot of us lost contact. I have cousins, for example, who I haven’t seen for maybe twenty years. I have no idea, for example, where my cousin Lorna is, these days. Her mum died in 1978 and I can’t recall the last time I saw her.

    I always thought it was odd when a long lost aunt or cousin or whatever would suddenly turn up at our house when I was a child, and it was revealed my mum or dad hadn’t seen them for twenty years. And now, of course, I know exactly how it happens.

    Most of my family have stayed in either Lismore or Brisbane, but having been away from my hometown for such a long time, I’ve missed out on seeing the extended younger generation growing up. Of course I know my immediate, immediate family, but it’s the children of the extended family that I’m only just coming to learn about. It’s odd though, since I know their parents very well. And of course we share the same DNA. An interesting, kinda odd, feeling in many ways.

    I’m sure one day the information we’re sharing with Facebook will come back to bite us on the bums, but in the meantime it’s been wonderful to reacquaint myself with my extended family. And, as is the style of Facebook, it’s been fun to see photos of them acting like idiots!! :)

    Yes, we defnitely have the same DNA! No doubt about that…

     
  • James 2:34 AM on 15/07/2007 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: Family,   

    10 Fascinating Tales 

    I spent a couple of hours at the State Library of NSW today going through old copies of “The Bombala Times”. As part of my family history research, I was keen to find any newspaper references to the period immediately after the return home from World War I service of my maternal grandfather.

    Charles Dunn Arrives Home

    “Who cares? Why do you do it?”, my friend Graeme asked me the other week, “what’s the point of it all?”.

    On a personal and often intimate level, I guess it helped me go some way in understanding the way in which my parents, grandparents etc have reacted to many of life’s events. And then on a broader level, I guess it’s partly because I’ve spent so much of my life working as a journalist. There’s nothing quite like chasing a good story you actually have a real connection with.

    And there are some great stories (in no-particular order)…

    10. WAR RECORDS: Mostly, it seems, my family hasn’t been one for going off to war, with one or two notable exceptions, including my maternal grandfather, Charles Henry Dunn. During the First World War, he enlisted as an adult, went to war on the Western Front, was injured a few times and then returned home. I never knew him, but I knew his wife and children, and so I think that personal connection has helped me understand a little more of the individual circumstance of people who fought in World War I.

    9 TOWAMBA: I’m absolutely fascinated by the small village of Towamba, near Eden in southern NSW. Quite a few of my ancestors come from the town, a beautiful little village in a very remote location. At the time they were living there, however, it was real “Deliverance Country” with first-cousins getting married and a bizarre shooting over a cricket match.

    8 ACCIDENTS AND MURDERS: Ancestors were there for the discovery of the body of the man who became known as Fischer’s Ghost; the accidental shooting on a young man in a remote location; and the sudden death of someone at the workplace. There’s lots of other odd tales too.

    7 NOT AN ATTRACTIVE BUNCH: My ancestors weren’t a pretty bunch. Perhaps the best example of this is Mary Ann Goward, my dad’s grandmother.

    6. NON-ENGLISH SPEAKERS: The shipping records for Allan McLean and Janet McFarlane who came form the Inner Hebrides in Scotland in 1838, confirm English wasn’t their first language. They confirm that although some of the family, including Allan, could read and write English, they were, for the most part, speakers of Scottish Gaelic.

    5. CONVICTS: My convict ancestry includes the following : James Rixon; Amelia Goodwin; John Hoare; Robert Higgins; Anne Owen; James Laing; and Mary Fitzgerald. They were mostly sent to Australia due to crimes of poverty, but there were a couple who were also rebellious Irishmen.

    4. THE REBELS: John Hoare, who came originally from Wexford, was a member of the British navy who was transported to Australia over his involvement in “The Great Mutiny” of 1797. At the time, Hoare was on board the aptly-named HMS Defiance and was a member of the United Irishmen, who were lobbying for Irish independence. Another, Robert Higgins was sent to Australia after being court-martialled during “The Walcheren Expedition” (July 30 – December 10, 1809), a very large British military operation (and failure) during the Napoleonic Wars.

    3. LOST FORTUNES: John Love came to Australia on the Third Fleet as a member of the NSW Corps whose role was to supervise the convicts. In common with other members of the NSW Corps, John was “given” considerable land-holdings. However, he was also involved in the illegal production of rum, stole cattle, and illegally employed a bushranger. The result of all this was the loss of all of the land he was given and the last years of his life spent as a convict himself.

    2. ROOTING AROUND: There’s a LOT of shot gun weddings, and also some occasions where they never married at all, including one where the male went off and started another family. The death record for the aforementioned Robert Higgins also notes he and his wife separated (as early as the 1820s) over an extramarital relationship.

    1. WILLIAM AND ELLEN: The most fascinating tale I’ve uncovered concerns the story of my maternal grandmother’s parents, William Rixon and Ellen Laing. They were actually first cousins who had four children together (my grandmother was their second child) in a very small community half-way between Eden and Bombala in Southern NSW. About two years after the birth of the fourth child, he married another woman and moved to a nearby town over the border in Victoria where he died in 1929. Ellen spent most of her adult life living with other family members, including her two daughters, at locations including Bombala, Lismore and Sydney. Ellen spent the end of her life at Newinton State Hospital and Home which had a history of providing support for destitute or aged women.

    So yes, lots of fascinating stories which probably also go some way in explaning a bit about me.

     
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