One of the things I love about old letters is the language that plants them in the past. Things like "the blinking b battery", "thingamajig", "going goodo", "oh gee", "a fair cow", "cheerio", "the old mob".
On 7th February 1962 Beatrice shared the front cover of the Australian Women's Weekly Teenagers' Weekly with two other sporting heroes from the bush, tennis player Margaret Court from Albury and squash player Heather Blundell from Queanbeyan.
It was a familiar scene: a rough dirt road, dry creek bed, scrubby bushland. I saw no evidence of cultivation or construction, just shadows, silence, rustlings. But overwhelmingly I felt a sense of connection. I belonged there. I had sprung from this spot.
This is the story of a gutsy, red-headed, seventeen-year-old, Sarah Bellamy
In 1934 Lue had a pub, school, railway station, baker, butcher, one church, another store and fewer than twenty scattered houses.
Kandos. A name to celebrate a new town, a new industry and hopefully a champion racehorse.
On that day young bloods, sons of pastoralists mainly, rode in to Rylstone on their horses, were inspected, learnt the conditions of the regiment and were sworn in at the courthouse.