“I developed my interest in writing these books a few years ago at a time when my children entered their teens. My own teens started in 1947, and I started trying to remember what had happened to me then. I also thought about my parents. Most of the major events that I lived through came to mind readily. …But after that, I realized that I really knew very little about these parents of mine. They had been born about the start of the Twentieth Century, and they died in 1970 and 1980. For their last 50 years, I was old enough to speak with a bit of sense. I could have talked to them a lot about their lives. I could have found out about the times they lived in. But I did not.
I know almost nothing about them really. Their courtship? Working in the pits? The Lock-out in the Depression? Losing their second child? Being dusted as a miner? The shootings at Rothbury? My uncles killed in the War? Love on the dole? There were hundreds, thousands of questions that I would now like to ask them. But, alas, I can’t. It’s too late. Thus, prompted by my guilt, I resolved to write these books. They describe happenings that affected people, real people.
The whole series is, to coin a modern phrase, designed to push your buttons, to make you remember and wonder at things forgotten. The books might just let nostalgia see the light of day, so that oldies and youngies will talk about the past and re-discover a heritage otherwise forgotten. Hopefully, they will spark discussions between generations, and foster the asking and answering of questions that should not remain unanswered.
In 1966, the Vietnam War started to heat up in January, and got hotter as the year progressed. Our young 20-year-old boys were conscripted via a birthday lottery and by year end, 60 were dead. Joern Utzon ran up too many bills at the Sydney Opera House, so his resignation was accepted. President Johnson came all the way to Australia, roller games on TV were shockers, and our cemeteries were no place for the living. The year finished with a happy ending with the release from prison of William White our most famous non-combatant.”
