The Jillaroo Part 1 / 4. Birth and Rebirth
I am lying in bed, my face bathed in sunlight from a nearby window, and my two grand-daughters are telling me about their day at school while my grand-son is looking out of the window at his friends playing soccer.
I tell him he does not have to stay and to go to join them and the thanks me as he rushes out of the door. Oh, the desire to get dirty and sweaty that pervades a young lads’ life. The girls are hardly slowed by this interruption as they regale me with the intricacies of school life and their observations on a whole class full of girls. It is a world I hardly know as I was home schooled right up to the time I went to college. Actually, my earlier schooling was done by correspondence and the School of the Air. That’s how it was when I was young, a very long time ago.
After the girls had gone off to do their own thing, I lay there with the warmth on my face and thought about my life and how it had played out. I was born in the Broken Hill Base Hospital in the far west New South Wales, Australia. It was only just, though, as my mother had to endure a five-hour car ride on dirt roads to get there but it seems I was in no hurry to enter the world. My name was given as Frances Evelyn Howard; my mother being Francesca Howard. Like her, I grew up being called Frankie by everyone.
My mother was a Broken Hill girl whose parents had a fish and chip shop. She met my father in 1941 while he was in the town to pick up supplies and they had a whirlwind courtship culminating in getting married late in 1941, just before he went off to join the Australian Army and get killed in the Battle for Malaya in January 1942. My father, Jimmy Howard, was the only son of Jack and Mary Howard, who owned Kangaranga Station, way north of Broken Hill and up near the Queensland border. It wasn’t the largest station around, but at around four thousand square miles, it wasn’t little by any means. The main business was cattle, bred for meat only, and which grazed wild in the scrub.
My grandparents doted on their grand-daughter and I had a charmed upbringing, being taught to cook and sew at an early age and being home schooled from about four years old. The war was kind to my grand-parents in that our neighbours on both sides had lost their menfolk and Pops had bought up the land with the proviso that the widows and children had homes for life. This grew Kangaranga to just under eight thousand square miles, or around five million acres. I suppose one could consider it a lonely life, being up in corner country, but we had a normal complement of around twenty workers sleeping in bunkhouses and up to fifty plus their horses when it was time for the muster and transporting of cattle to market.
As I said, I was home schooled, along with the few children of the families living at the station, by correspondence. It was with great excitement in 1951 when the School of the Air began with its station in Alice Springs. It was odd being able to hear the teachers as well as looking at the books. I was a good student and did well in my exams, my mother ensuring that I filled everything in without help. I was also picking up skills in running the station, riding before I was eight and able to help feed the crew before I was ten. As I said earlier, they all called me Frankie and I was considered a tomboy jillaroo as I was usually in a shirt and jeans with proper boots to keep the spiders and snakes from getting to the ankles. The only times I needed a dress was when we had parties for birthdays or Christmas. I think my mother only had four dresses, a black sad days one, a brighter good days one, a party one and a ‘go to town to shop’ one. My own wardrobe was much the same, although I did tend to wear a skirt sometimes. My mother was always complimentary when I was in a skirt or a dress and she always told me that I was the daughter she had craved for.
My world turned upside-down when I was twelve. There was a family that lived in one of the outstation houses and they had a son called Albert. Now Albert was a couple of years older than me and was learning to be a jackaroo like his father. He had started to be very attentive to me when he was at the main house for schooling. One time he had found me near the bore and told me he loved me, whatever that meant, and had kissed me. Now, I had seen animals rutting, helped clean new-born puppies and lambs, but had absolutely no idea about what boys and girls did as my mother had always brushed over the subject when I asked. Nevertheless, I was somewhat surprised at how I felt when his lips met mine for the first time and it wasn’t long before we would make time to be alone for a kissing session. He found my budding breasts fascinating and I thought his attentions were very nice.
At mustering time we were able to help with herding the cattle towards the yards for sorting and branding. It turned out that Albert and I needed to be on the top of One Tree Hill, a ridiculous name for a bump in the land that was no more than thirty feet higher than the surrounding country, but it was higher and gave a good view. We tethered our horses in the shade of the one tree and took our binoculars to see if we could see any stray cattle. It wasn’t long before he was all over me, kissing and touching and fondling my breasts. Suddenly he stood back and unzipped his jeans to let his willy spring free, hard and long with a glisten of dew on the tip.
I said “That’s interesting, mine doesn’t do that, but I’m a girl.” His look changed from lust to a frown as he pushed me down to the ground and his hand felt inside my jeans to find my own girls willy. “You little pervert” he cried and banged my head on the ground. That’s when everything went black.
When I woke up I was in a lot of pain. My head hurt, my body hurt and my groin hurt even more. When I managed to look at myself I could see that my jeans were soaked in blood. I called out for Albert but there was no answer. I looked around and I was alone on the hillock, not even my horse was there. I did see my saddle lying on the ground so Albert must have taken my horse with him. I crawled to the saddle and the saddle bags to pull out the big old two-way radio and switched it on. Immediately I heard my mother calling for us to answer so I pressed the send button and said “Mummy, I hurt so much, come and get me at One Tree Hill” before I passed out again.
I vaguely remember my mother crying as she cradled me while one of the men gave me an injection but the next time I woke fully I was in a hospital bed with my mother dozing in a chair next to me. She looked completely worn out and I said “Mummy, don’t be so sad, I am awake now.” She woke with a start and came to me to kiss my brow and hold my hand. I could tell she wanted to hug me but I felt like the proverbial Mummy as I seemed to be swathed in bandages. She started to cry and wailed “I’m so sorry, my darling, I have been such an idiot for years and it is my stupidity that has you here in hospital. How can I ever put things right again”.
Just then a doctor came into the room with a clipboard in his hand. When he saw that I was awake he got my mother to sit down again while he checked out my vision and speech as well as asking me how many fingers he was holding up. When he was satisfied that I had most of my capabilities he stood back and said “I am afraid that I have some bad news for you; when you came to us you were so badly injured in your groin we had to make you into a girl.” I said “OK, when are you going to tell me the bad news. I am a girl, have always been a girl and fully expect to end my life as a girl.” My mother stood up and took him by the arm and forced him out of the room, turning to me as she left, saying “I’ll be back to explain everything, my darling, just you rest for a bit.”
When she came back she looked a lot better. She had obviously been to the toilet and cleaned her face. With her was a nurse. They stood either side of the bed and each held one of my hands. “Frances, I need to tell you something that I did that is not what a normal mother would do” she started. “This nurse is Anne, my best friend at school here in Broken Hill. When I was brought in to give birth it was very late at night and Anne was on duty. When you were born you were a boy but I so wanted a girl I pleaded with Anne to help me out. She and I were the only ones to clean and change you while we were here and she signed the paperwork that said that you were a girl. I thought that I could bring you up as my daughter in the remote station and no-one would know the difference. I so wanted a girl and have loved you as one ever since. I am so sorry that you had to find out like this.”
Marianne G 2020
The Jillaroo. Part 2 Moving on
“But what about what the doctor said?” I asked. She told me that while I was in hospital Anne would give me a full lesson on biology as it relates to males and females which will answer that question for me. I was very unsure of just what she was talking about and just nodded. In fact I just nodded off to sleep again.
Next time I woke it was Anne beside me, changing my drip and checking things beside my bed. “How are you feeling now?” she asked. “Confused and stupid” I replied “I do not know what I am, who I am, or why Albert got so angry. Oh, does anyone know what happened to him?” “The last question is easier to answer as no-one has seen him since he nearly kicked you to death. In fact, I would think that as he took all of your water and food from the saddle bag, he probably thinks he did kill you and is on the run. The two horses were found in Tibooburra yesterday and the police think that he hitched a ride on a cattle truck there.” As she said this she finished what she was doing and gave me a biology book before she left. “This will answer a few of your other questions. Read it and I will answer all your future questions honestly next time I see you.”
Over the next couple of hours I found out that my life, up to now, had been a total sham. I had been a boy the whole time and suddenly felt ashamed for being so stupid. When I had seen animals rutting I had thought that the one underneath was getting penetrated in their bottom, not realising that a female has another hole. I still could not feel any anger at my mother; she had loved me all my life and I was sure she would continue to do so. I kept on reading the textbook and a whole new world of animals opened up for me. Next time my mother came in I held my arms out to hug her and she started crying again. I told her to stop crying as that was something us Howard women didn’t do.
We talked about everything and I found out that my grand-parents were in on the whole thing, even though they thought it stupid. My mother admitted that she had made pills from various herbs with plant estrogen and had been giving them to me since I turned eight. One thing that was a positive was that my birth certificate already had me down as female and that it would not change anything with my schooling when I get back from hospital. We would just say that I had fallen off my horse, a common reason for injuries in our part of the world.
Eventually my bruises faded, my ribs knitted and my surgery healed. I was given training on how to properly look after myself as a woman and left with a little box of plastic items to help my new passage stay open, as well as some pills I needed to take to become more female. I also left with a lot more knowledge of the world and the difference between men and women. On the drive back to the station I looked out of the window with a far greater appreciation for being alive and for the love that my mother had for me. When we arrived at the station I was hugged by my grand-parents and welcomed back by all of the men who were living at the main house. That evening Alberts’ family came around and his father was very apologetic. I told him that he was not to blame for what happened and gave them all a hug to seal the point.
I got back into my school work with a strong desire to exceed and, by the time I reached seventeen, I passed my final exams with enough marks to get me into the Roseworthy Agricultural College near Adelaide. Before I left I made sure that I took a driving test to get my NSW drivers licence. My grand-parents gave me one of the older ex-army Land Rovers that dotted the station and I took it into Broken Hill to have a mechanic go over it. I stayed in the town with my other grand-parents while it was being fixed and became thoroughly sick of fish and chips. Before I went back home I treated them to a lunch at the Musicians Club, so named as a homage to the orchestra that played on while the Titanic sank.
After I loaded the Landie I made sure I hugged and kissed everyone, not knowing that it would be the last time I saw my paternal grand-parents. I did the four hours on dirt roads into Broken Hill to stay overnight. That evening I saw my maternal grand-parents and, in the morning I left to drive towards Adelaide. In a fast car you would do it in five hours but the Landie was anything but fast so it took me most of the day. I had organised lodging in Gawler and was welcomed with a hot meal when I arrived.
The next day I went out to Roseworthy where I completed all of the paperwork, got my study lists and had a look around. I would be specialising in dry-land farming but needed to do all of the basic subjects as well. In the three years I was there I had a test flight in a glider from the local airfield and liked it so much I decided that I wanted to learn to fly. On one of my off days I went down to the Parafield airfield nearer Adelaide where I signed on for lessons there. By the time I graduated from the college I had also received my pilots licence. I was sure that it would be the way of the future for outback stations. I had also spent lots of time in and around the city of Adelaide where there were more people than I had ever seen in my life and improved my wardrobe with a lot of new clothes.
While I was down south both of my fathers’ parents died within days of each other, one from a heart attack and the other from a broken heart. I coerced one of my flying instructors into coming with me to the station for the double funeral. It became part of my final exam with me doing everything and him in the second seat. My mother had sent me details of an airstrip near Tibooburra we could use so we set down there with her picking us up. The old folks were laid to rest in the family plot on the station with several of our neighbours attending. We stayed overnight and flew back south the next day, a lot quicker trip than my first drive down. Before I left I got my mother to enquire about getting a strip graded at the station.
Before I went north again my mother contacted me to tell me that we were now the joint owners of the Kangaranga Station and to trade the old Landie on a new one to bring home. After my graduation I returned home in a new vehicle, with a new wardrobe and a whole new thinking about how the station would improve in the coming years. I was now rapidly approaching twenty-one and several of my School of the Air friends had got themselves married but I had a business to organise. I sat down with my mother and told her of several things that I wanted to put in place to make our life easier and, hopefully, make more money.
In the following year we had the airstrip graded and two hangers erected. The first for the plane I intended to buy and the second for storage of a helicopter that I hoped we could use during the muster. We had another workshop built to house motorcycles as it was harder to get good riders these days. I had kept my ears to the ground with motorcycle enthusiasts in Broken Hill and had discovered that the best way to get some was to go to a military auction and pick up Matchless G3/L’s. A friend called me and told me of an auction coming up in Adelaide and I got him to join me in a trip south. I hired a plane and we flew down to Parafield, hiring a car to go to the inspection. The auction was amazing, not only for the ex-army bikes, but also some war-surplus Harley Davidson WLAs still in boxes and several Ford Blitz three ton trucks.
The next day I bid for, and won, two of the three tonners, two Harleys and four G3/L’s plus a couple of boxes of spares for the trucks and bikes. My friend knew of a couple of guys in the Hill who could drive the trucks so we flew back that afternoon. The agent in Adelaide said he would get temporary registration on the trucks if we organised the drivers so I flew back the next day with my two drivers. The trucks had been loaded with the Harleys and spares in one and the rest in the other. After settling up I gave my drivers enough money to get to the station with an overnight stop and enough for food. I told the drivers to drop off one of the Harleys at their home as a raffle prize to help the local club and then I went back to Parafield to talk to someone about finding the right plane for us and then flew back to the Hill and drove back to the station.
When we got the trucks and bikes back to the station the guys were very excited. Having an ex-army 4x4 with a vee-8 engine meant that we could now take all of our heavier gear out to the remote holding yards during the muster and the guys would have a bit of comfort. We could also take the bikes and guys on a truck so they would start their work from the yards, rather than a forty or fifty mile trek from the station first. I had organised Adam from Broken Hill, who had a Bell helicopter, to fly out behind the cattle and start them moving. It really improved our efficiency from the start.
Marianne G 2020
The Jillaroo. Part 3 Marriage.
A month or so later I got word from my contact at Parafield that he had a Cessna 182 that was in good order, being only five years old, and at the right price. I made sure that our finances would cover the purchase and one of our guys drove me to Broken Hill where I had organised a seat to Adelaide.
One look at the Cessna and I was hooked and it flew beautifully so I stayed overnight while the paperwork was completed, purchased new headsets and a box of spares, and flew it back to the station. No more would I have to suffer the dirt road to do anything. My mother was very happy as it had eaten at her brain to have me likely to die during my emergency trip south and we could now quickly fly any hurt workers to hospital ourselves without needing to call out the Flying Doctor. To celebrate we decided that we would fly to Quilpie for their annual Kangaranga Do, which was to be held in a few weeks’ time, followed by a trip to the Birdsville Races. We made sure we had some accommodation at both places as we did not fancy sleeping on the ground and packed our best dresses for the Do and the Races. Both events are to raise money for charity, the Races being for the Flying Doctor.
On the day of the Do we took off from the station and flew north-east to Quilpie, landing just before lunch and walking from the airport to the hotel, a trip of about five minutes! The Do starts at six so we had a light lunch before having a quick walk around the town; somewhere neither of us had been but did have a connection to the family as the place where my father’s parents had met. It did not take long as a town with less than a thousand inhabitants was not the largest around. They did put on a good street party though.
We made sure we had a filling tea before putting on our party dresses and walking, arm in arm, into the part of the street where the party was held. They had all sorts of fun events, like bale rolling races, sheaf tossing and other outback pursuits. Of course, there was drinking and dancing. I had a few dances myself with strapping guys and my mother was enjoying herself as well. I noticed one guy sitting alone on a bale with a drink in his hand and a sad look on his face. I was immediately attracted to him, I don’t know why. I asked the bartender who he was and I was told that he was Steve Masters, a sorry loser who had two older brothers who ran their parents station and who had not long got over testicular cancer by having his nuts removed. He told me that none of the local girls would have anything to do with him as he had no land and could never be a father. He was considered a three-time loser as he was very shy into the bargain.
I took my drink and walked over to him, sitting beside him on the bale. He looked startled and I said “Hello, I’m Frances and I have been told that you are Steve. You look like a guy who needs someone to dance with.” He blushed and said “There is something you need to know about me.” I said that I had been told he had no land and no nuts but that was OK because I had a bit of land and I didn’t have a womb. “We’ll just have to adopt, that OK with you?” He smiled for the first time and my heart melted. We danced until late and then he had to take his family home as he had been the designated driver. They had a place about two hours north of the town. Before he left we kissed goodnight and he held me so close I thought I would be crushed.
I had told him that we would be going home for a few days before going to Birdsville and that he was invited to join us if he could get back to Quilpie airfield by nine the next morning. My mother was a bit tipsy when I got her back to the hotel so I left it for morning to tell her we may have a passenger. After breakfast we strolled to the airfield with our bags and I stored them away in the plane. I made sure we had enough fuel to get home and did my pre-flight inspection. Just before nine my nerves were settled when a jeep pulled up and Steve got out, picking a bag out of the back. I waved and he started walking over. My mother said “Who is that dear, he seems to know you?” I replied “That’s Steve Masters, Mum, your future son-in-law, and we met last night.”
I put Steves’ bag in the plane after introducing them and we got seated. My mother opted for one of the back seats so Steve could sit up front with me. We all put on our headsets and we took off to fly home. My mother kept up chatter with Steve, asking him about his family, schooling, experience and farming abilities. He just looked at me and smiled while he spoke to her. As we passed over the northern boundary of Kangaranga I saw that Adam was working the Bell a few miles in front of us. I changed the radio to our station channel and said “Adam, this is Frankie, I am four thousand above you, and how is it working today?” He answered back that it was going well and would not lift until he saw us pass. Steve looked startled and when I changed back to in-plane communication he asked “What is the station we are over?” My mother answered “That is Kangaranga, dear, all five million acres of it.”
A couple of minutes later I switched back to station frequency and said “Adam, this is Frankie. I am past you now and descending to one thousand. Will you be finished today?” He answered that he understood and that he would have the muster sorted by early afternoon and would head back to Broken Hill. I asked him if he could stay overnight as I wanted him to take a visitor on a quick trip around the interesting parts of the station. He said that this would be good.
I put the Cessna down on our strip and parked it outside the hanger. A couple of the guys came out to help us out and to unload the bags, mum going into the house with them. Steve just stood there and looked around at the big house, the outbuildings, bunkhouse and then said “Frances, just answer me honestly. Are you just playing with me and will send me home next week?” I put my arms around his neck and said “Steve, I never want you to leave. This is no play, this is our life.” He then kissed me and when he told me he had fallen in love with me I knew, this time, exactly what he meant.
When we went into the house my mother said that she had put his bag in my room as she knew I could never get pregnant and he went to her and gave her a hug, saying “Thank you, mother dear.” With the air truly cleared we all had a laugh and got some lunch. A little while after that we heard the sound of Adam coming in to land and went out to talk to him. He had lunched at the campsite so just needed to refuel. I introduced Steve as the new boss to be and then Adam took him up for a trip around his new realm. A couple of hours later they returned, Adam just touching down long enough for Steve to get out and away from the helicopter before lifting off again with a wave to me. Steve told me that Adam had got a radio call from home during the flight and couldn’t stay the night.
That evening, over dinner, I asked Steve what he thought about the station and he said that he was still trying to take in just how big it was. He asked me if I had any ideas about future development and I told him that we had now streamlined the mustering and that I was thinking of some way to put in a few hundred acres of sorghum or Bermuda grass but that I would need to contour the landscape for that. He agreed that it could work and told us that his family property was mainly sorghum grown as a cereal crop but that there were hardy versions that could be used for fodder. I said that we would need to get a better tractor as our old pre-war Fergie would not be good enough.
We talked about the options into the night and then we went to bed. At first we were both a bit shy but finally found ways to give each other pleasure. Oh my! I had never had that kind of pleasure before and we found ourselves totally absorbed in each other until the early hours. We were late up in the morning and when we did appear for breakfast the cook gave me a knowing wink and my mother gave us both a hug and kiss. It was if we had won some contest or something. I actually did feel as if I had won the greatest prize I could ever have.
It was just Steve and I that went to Birdsville and we had a lot of fun with a little good luck. He told me that there was a good stretch of straight track on the family property where we could put the Cessna down so we flew from Birdsville to his home. The stretch of road was perfect and after we had landed we were taken to the main house where I was introduced to his brothers and their wives. When they were told that he was leaving I could see a little bit of relief in their faces but they showed enough sorrow to be kind. Steve went and packed up all of the things he wanted to take and we loaded up the Cessna with it. We both hugged the family before we got into the plane to take off into our own future, together.
Marianne G 2020
The Jillaroo. Part 4 Love and Devotion
We married in Broken Hill with just close family with us. I had flown to his home to pick up his two brothers and had arranged for a friend to fly them home again.
The wedding party was at the Musicians Club and was an open house for all our friends in the Hill. It was a curious mixture of Mums’ school chums, mine, the bike crowd and the flying crowd. I was not sure what Steves’ brothers thought of it all as it got a bit raucous and they were somewhat straight-laced. When we left for our honeymoon we had a night in a local hotel before heading to the airport to fly the Cessna south. We put down at Parafield and took our hired car to the seaside where we just relaxed and enjoyed our own company.
One day we were walking on the beach and he said “Almost the first words you said to me was whether I was OK about adopting, were you serious?” “Of course I was” I answered “I said nothing that night I didn’t mean.” So we made an appointment to see an adoption agency the next day. We sat and answered all their questions and as they realised how much we could give an adopted child and the strength of our resources, they were keen to put us on their list. Just before we finished one of the ladies in the office asked “You wouldn’t consider more than one child, would you? There is a set of triplets in care that lost their parents in a car crash and no-one from the family wants to take them on. They may have to be split up.”
I looked at him and he looked at me and we both smiled. We went to see the babies at the care home and immediately fell hopelessly in love with them. It would take some weeks for all the paperwork to be sorted out so we would have to come back for them with a vehicle as I am sure that a light plane trip would not be good for them.
While we were in Adelaide we went around the car dealerships to find something better that the rattly old Land Rovers we had. We organised a deal where we would bring down a couple of the better old ones from the station and purchased a pair of Series 2 long-wheel-base Station Wagons. When we took one out for a test ride on dirt roads south of Adelaide it was like driving a normal car, the ride was so much less choppy than the old short ones we had.
When we flew home again we got stuck into decorating a couple of rooms for the children, one smaller one that the boy would have and a larger one the two girls would share until they got bigger. My mother was over the moon at the prospect of grand-children and helped us paint the walls. We flew down to the Hill and got ourselves some supplies – cots, blankets, stuffed toys, bottles and nappies. It seemed like ages before we were contacted that the babies could be picked up and my mother drove one Landie while I drove the other down to Adelaide, taking a couple of days to do it as she was not used to long distances.
It was her first time this far from home so I had a couple of days showing her around and picking up our two new vehicles before we picked up the babies. She was immediately into grannie mode and took charge of one of the girls while I took care of the other two. We had them in baby baskets and had enough supplies for a few days so checked out of our motel and headed back home, this time via Mildura as it broke the trip up nicely for the children. In Mildura we stayed for two nights as neither of us had been there before.
While walking around we came upon a Honda motorcycle dealer and was amazed to see them with bikes we could use on the station. I test rode a CL77 bike and handled it easily as it was far lighter than the Matchless bikes as well has having much more clearance. We organised for four, plus spare parts, to be trucked up to the station. The guys were going to be pleased when they arrived.
When we got the children home they were welcomed with lots of hugs and kisses and they seemed to enjoy it, although I think that they were a bit put out by all these strangers. They had already been christened so we kept their first names – Alex, Samantha and Sonya. We got them registered in Broken Hill and signed on to join the School of the Air as soon as they could. Over the years they grew and thrived, Alex following Steve around like a shadow and soaking up the running of the station. He would love to go out with the men, sitting in the cab of the Blitz or up front in one of the Landies, and we could all see that he would be taking over the reins as soon as he was able. The girls learned all they could about sewing and cooking but would also get out with the muster and both loved animals.
By the time they were five they were really lovely children and Steve and I felt blessed to have been able to give them a future. We made sure to tell them that we were not their birth parents and when they were eight I flew them to Adelaide to visit the grave of their real ones. It was not as harrowing as I thought it would be but they did get a sense of where they were in their life. They all did well with their schooling, they all could ride a horse and Alex had even tried to ride one of the bikes but couldn’t reach the foot controls. They were ten when my mother fell ill with problems with her lungs. It must have been hereditary as her parents had both gone a couple of years earlier from complications with pneumonia. We all wished her good health but she passed away in the Broken Hill Hospital in 1975. We laid her to rest next to her parents.
Steve and I got on with running the station. We had done all we could to streamline the cattle business, graded good roads to the muster yards so the cattle trucks had an easy ride, added some more Hondas, this time XL250’s and three XL100’s for the children; and had spent many hours at the wheel of our new tractor contouring the low hills so that we could plant the Bermuda Grass. You need to contour with furrows that stop water from flowing away. This is especially needed in our country as we averaged less than ten inches of rain a year. Parts of the station were now looking quite green.
When the children finished school we needed to let them do what they wanted, so Alex ended up taking the course at Roseworthy, following in his mothers’ footsteps. I flew him down and we bought him a second-hand car to use while he was there. Of the two girls, Samantha wanted to go to University to study the Arts so she was enrolled in Adelaide and both girls were set up in a flat there as Sonya wanted to study nursing at the Royal Adelaide Hospital.
Eventually Alex returned home with his girl-friend, a lot of new knowledge and a pilots’ license. Both of our daughters found themselves fellows. Alex married Jacquie in Broken Hill and moved into the main bedroom at the station while Steve and I moved to the old room my grand-parents used to sleep in. Samantha got involved with a lecturer she had met at a seminar and moved to his house in Adelaide. They were married and it is in their grannie flat that I now lay in my bed in the sun.
Sonya was the surprise as she finished her nursing studies but then met a musician in a band that was playing in Adelaide. She left her nursing job and went off to sing with the band, becoming quite well known. She brought him up to the station once and he really couldn’t get with the whole scene, being very happy to get back to the bright lights and crowds.
Steve and I now had time to enjoy a bit of relaxation and we spent many happy times flying to various places around Australia, soaking up sunshine and swimming in a variety of places. The old Cessna had done well but we had traded it in on a new 340A in 1978. It was odd not having the wing above you but the extra engine felt a lot safer. It was also somewhat bigger. We got ourselves passports and did a trip to the UK, as well as several to New Zealand as we both loved the South Island.
Sadly, life is never as easy as it should be and Steve fell ill with cancer again, this time it started in his bowel but had already spread to his liver. He lasted another year and died in 1996. I was thankful that we had thirty wonderful years together but needed to be helped by my children as we laid him in the family plot at the station he so loved.
I was still able to carry my own load at the station but I was slowly moved aside by family and the hired help. Jacquie had given birth to twin boys and the running of Kangaranga was assured into the future. I was sent down to an Aged Care Home in Adelaide to live out my life with my thoughts and my books. However, Samantha was appalled at the way they treated the inmates (as she called us) and insisted that I move into a grannie flat behind their house. Here I had the joy of interacting with her three children, getting well cooked meals and not being woken by others calling out in the night. I had to have a nurse in to see me every day as my lungs were going the same way as my mothers.
I wondered, as I felt the sun on my face, whether I would have done anything differently over my seventy years had I actually had been born a girl, or even, what would have happened had my mother accepted that I was actually a boy. I suppose one can ponder but the truth would never be made known.
My life had been a full one and Steve had been a wonderful companion. I had loved him so much and I was just drifting off to sleep when I was sure I heard his voice calling to me to join him as I slid, smiling, into oblivion.
The end.
Marianne G 2020.