Kandos. A name to celebrate a new town, a new industry and hopefully a champion racehorse.
Our rotunda might seem solitary and neglected, yet it is, to me at least, romantic and uplifting. I would suggest also that it has more to say about Kandos history, and even our state history, than any other building in Kandos.
The turn of the century was a time when young rural men in particular, hungry for their own bit of land, raked among the hills, dales and gullies to identify and secure a portion of crown land.
There is something about an orchestra that sets it apart from a band. A band swells in the open air. It is an exciting spectacle, its natural space a rotunda, a park or a main street. An orchestra shines under electric lights. It radiates romance, its natural space a ballroom or concert hall. It woos and charms, caresses and pursues.
Architect William Kemp introduced a new style of bush school, the Beehive. It avoided the Gothic, had an enclosed verandah, semi-circular galvanised iron roof and was built with local materials (in the case of Pyangle, timber and stone).
Who are you staying safe for today? That's the sign employees see as they enter the Whyalla Steelworks. No such sign met employees at Kandos Quarry early last century.
So what does an English Baron have to do with Kandos? It seems the cement company was hanging on Leverhulme's coat-tails to promote its own workplace philosophy
In December 1922 the Lithgow Mercury announced, 'although in other centres Labor Day demonstrations seem to be declining, Kandos in the vigor of its youth, put forth its best effort on Saturday.'
The internet rules our lives today, but just a century ago the latest technology was the telephone.
I don't think anyone's arrival here in Kandos could have been gloomier and more shocking than his. And yet it was the pinnacle of his priestly career.
How did that name come about? I guess it is tall and steep like a woman's petticoat, but you might have other theories. It was surely named by a man.