Tina Gibson has written her story in remembrance of her grandfather, Ernest Harris, who was born on Yallock Station in the Griffith area of New South Wales on 6 December 1917 and died in Griffith on 2 September 1973.
I was born on 9th May 1969.
In my beginning I had a mother, Lenore Valerie Page, from Mununjali mob in Beaudesert, south east Queensland, and my father, James Fredrick Gibson, from Condobolin, in the mid-west of New South Wales. My grandfather, Ernest Harris, was born on Block 12, Nericon Village, north of Griffith in New South Wales. He was a shearer and died aged 55-years-old. Born to John Harris (the second son) and Mother Mary Williams, he was one of nine children.
Great Grandfather John later had a son to Pearl Eade in Griffith, on the 9th of December 1953, who was the last surviving of the children, even though a half-brother to the rest. I went to meet him and my cousin Stacy O’ Hara, granddaughter of Thelma Harris (Grandfathers sister).
Look this could be a long and tedious story, but the way I look at it is I was raised by my father, James, from about the age of six, or about 1975 or 1976, on his own as Mum had left. My two younger brothers, Mark born in 1970, and Neville in 1973, grew up with me. Dad worked most of the time as a bricklayer/trade worker. We used to go to Wollongong to visit Dad’s Aunty Mary on his mother’s side, as she had raised him from a young boy or even a baby because his mother, my grandmother Alice Maude Gibson, didn’t marry the father, my grandfather Ernest Harris, of her first child.
Aunty Mary married and had five children of her own, but became sick so my father, who was known as James Coe at the time, and his cousin (Uncle) Gregory were taken to The Westmead Boys Home. The Home was an orphanage for about 200 homeless, parentless boys run by St Vincent De Paul. The cousins spent five years growing up there, from 1952 to 1957. It was a place of living off the land and learning, from the St Vincent Brotherhood, how to live and pray every day, morning, and night at 6pm. They had a piggery, dairy, footy oval, and boxing, swimming, cricket competitions. A pig they once raised in the piggery even won an award at the Sydney Royal Easter Show. Dad was good at his studies and cut hair in their own Barber Shop. He became an altar boy too. When my father left he became an apprentice bricklayer back in Wollongong at the Wollongong Steal Works Port Kembla. After five years working and studying at the Wollongong TAFE, he had top results. In his third year he was Apprentice of the Year, beating fourth and fifth year apprentices, to win a one-month holiday on the Hawkesbury River, north of Sydney.
Dad did not know his mother (Alice Maude Gibson) growing up, until he went to see her at the age of about 21-22 years old. She was living on a farm with grape vines and children and a white man named Jack Winch, who was a shearer. He hunted Dad away with his shotgun, but a least Dad knew he had two half-brothers and four half-sisters. He did not meet his father, Ernest, until he was 27-28 years old. He told me himself, sitting around the table, what he knew about his family. He said he found him when he saw an article in a newspaper in Wollongong which had a story of a man who lost his legs from the knee down after rescuing people from a house fire near Griffith. Dad went to see him in hospital – he must have known from his mother and/or aunty what his father’s name was. So Dad went to see him and took a photo of him in a wheelchair and of the three paintings of landscapes he had done while in hospital. Grandfather Ernest asked him at the time if Dad could take him out in the wheelchair, but Dad said no, “because you never did anything for me”. It was too much pain and confrontation for a young person on their first and only meeting.
I believe it was too much pain that Dad held in for too long.
Grandmother Alice did come to visit us at Christmas time in about 1981, but she died in 1982 in Wollongong. We went to the funeral with Dad. I remember having a sleepover and Dad coming to take me to Wollongong in the middle of the night. Thereafter only one of his half-sisters died the oldest one named June – she a very wholesome person, a real genuine person, with a soft, fun heart. She had two children.
Dad went on and retired, but suffered kidney failure, mental health problems and Type 2 diabetes. He passed away from the kidney dialysis treatment after 10 years. He died on his father’s – my grandfather’s – birthday in 2018. I was living in Brisbane and had travelled a bit, as Dad believed in knowing your own country. It is what made me think of not being afraid to travel and enjoy travelling as he had.
Now time has come for me to find Dad’s side of the family as I had moved up here to Brisbane, met my mother, lived in the area and met my cousins, aunts and uncles.
We knew my Dad’s side was going to be harder to find. We knew Grandfather Ernest had died years ago. My brother had even visited the gravesite, he had a photo and the number of the gravesite from information on the cemetery computer files. We found out he had died the same year as my young brother was born, in 1973. Now the time had come that I should visit his grave too.
Link-Up (Qld) helped me to achieve this, and to find out about my father’s beginnings and my grandfather’s identity. I’m so happy my youngest brother went to visit Grandfather’s grave, maybe five years ago. The next step was to find family still living in Griffith. Link-Up (Qld) Caseworker Kerry and Researcher Michelle suggested we email the Griffith Aboriginal Medical Centre as it was a service most Aboriginal people would use, and they would know names of families in the area. Kerry told me a few days later the medical centre had found a descendant of the Harris family, and she was willing to meet. I just screamed out, “Yes!” – after all these years we had found someone, I couldn’t believe it. It was a joyous, happy relief for me, I’d been waiting and wanting to meet someone from my father’s side of the family for years, and it was finally going to happen.
Kerry, Link-Up (Qld) Counsellor Christine and I travelled to Griffith to meet Stacey and my Great Aunt Thelma. I was so excited those few weeks leading up to the evening meeting over dinner in Griffith. My younger brother Neville was also able to travel to Griffith, but my middle brother Mark could not make it. We all checked into the motel and that night we went to meet Stacey who had brought uncles, aunts and cousins to meet us over dinner. We all exchanged photos and catch up stories of Grandfather Ernest and his brother, David Eade, who we visited at his house the next day. He told us his story, and the history of the property he was living on, and the sad circumstances his of losing his wife and children.
Now me and my brothers have a place to come back to, a place to call home, where family connections have been made in the town of Griffith. I am forever grateful to Link-Up (Qld) and all the wonderful people involved. My brothers and I will go back to visit. Now I have found out, our family and mob is Ngiyampaa Wangaaypuwan (pronounced Wongaihon), originally from the Hillston and Lachlan River area of New South Wales.
Published 8 August 2024.
