Lindsay Family History Archives - Clover Hill Diaries

Never underestimate the role of men in amplifying feminism

Image credit Sylvia Liber

I am deep in the late 1800s for my novel, working through co-operative records, newspapers, council minutes, and the small details that tell you how people actually lived. The book is a historical novel set in a dairy valley on the NSW South Coast at the turn of the twentieth century. The further I go, the more familiar the patterns feel.

I grew up a sixth-generation dairy farmer. By the time I came along, technology was everywhere on the farm. The cows were unimpressed. They still needed milking 365 days a year, twice a day, sometimes three. The machines changed. The stories stayed.

My mother milked cows before and after school. Her mother did the same. I noticed how normal it all sounded.

My father had one rule. “Never ever ever learn to milk a cow.” He wasn’t joking. He made it clear to my sister and me that our younger brother would inherit the farm. There would be nothing for us to inherit. That rule came from his mother, who hated milking cows and moved heaven and earth to make sure her daughter had an education. He carried that lesson forward. That advice probably did more for my feminism than any book I read later.

My father’s logic belonged to the nineteenth century. Sons inherited. Daughters adjusted. It is now very outdated, and it deserves to be named as such.

My father is gone. My brother sold the farm. The logic did not survive either.

That family arrangement was not unusual. It sits squarely inside what the historical record shows.

The Illawarra co-operative story is usually told through factories, boards, and balance sheets. What sits underneath it is work done by whole families, organised around necessity rather than choice, as documented in Illawarra Co-operatives: The First One Hundred Years (University of Wollongong, 2014).

Most dairy farms in the late nineteenth century were small, around 30 to 60 hectares. Life for men, women, and children was exhausting and relentless, shaped by weather, seasons, and livestock. Every day, a family spent about four hours milking an average herd of thirty cows. There were no days off.

Men’s labour was constant and physical. They cleared land, fenced paddocks, planted and harvested feed, cared for stock, maintained buildings, and carted milk and butter to market over poor roads and long distances. Their work was visible.

Women’s labour ran alongside this. Women ran households, cooked and cleaned, bore and raised large families, drove herds, milked twice a day, sterilised equipment, tended poultry, pigs, and gardens, and rose as early as 2am in summer to prepare butter for market. In poorer families, women took on heavier outdoor work as well.

Children worked before and after school, when school was possible at all. At Kiama Public School, the timetable was adjusted to fit around milking. Education bent to agriculture, not the other way around.

Butter making was slow and physically demanding, but it mattered because butter paid the bills. Cream rose when it could. Sometimes it soured. It was still skimmed, ripened, churned by hand, and packed for market.

This is the pressure co-operation responded to.

From the late 1880s into the 1890s, factories shifted part of this work into shared systems. Separators, refrigeration, and rail transport mattered. So did the effect on daily life. Time pressure eased. Physical exhaustion reduced. Risk moved out of kitchens and sheds and into collective arrangements. The work still depended on women, but it no longer sat entirely on their backs.

Women were never named as founders or directors. Yet the system depended on their labour, endurance, and availability. Co-operation did not remove women’s work. It reorganised it.

This is where Joseph Weston enters the story.

As editor and proprietor of the Kiama Independent, Weston used the newspaper to argue for co-operation as a response to how work was actually being carried out in the district. He wrote about structure, not sentiment. He brought labour that had been treated as private into public discussion and made it part of the economic conversation. After this much time in his columns, I have developed an entirely unreasonable fondness for him.

Local newspapers did more than report. They shaped what communities thought could change. Weston used the platform he had.

This is not about men granting permission. It is about who had access to the microphone, and what they chose to say into it.

A later layer of visibility comes from historical scholarship. The 2014 history Illawarra Co-operatives: The First One Hundred Years records women’s labour throughout the system. One pattern stands out. Women are named largely in contemporary chapters. In the foundational period, women’s labour is described in detail, but individual women are not identified. The work is present. The names are not.

My work begins there.

My book is relevant now because communities still decide who women are faster than they listen to who they might be. The Illawarra co-operative movement worked because entire families carried it. Some men used their access to make that visible at the time. The task now is to keep it visible.

The Power of Storytelling and Digital Legacy

Documenting history matters, not just to remember names but to honour lives fully lived and the impact they had on the world.

Have you ever stopped to think about whose story in your life deserves to be told?

Have you considered documenting your family history?

When we want to learn about something, we turn to Google, but what about the stories that are not there?

The ones that exist only in memories, passed down through conversation but never written down?

My friend Gaye Steel, former marketing manager of McDonald’s and Telstra, once said,

“If you can’t be found on Google, you don’t exist.”

Of course, we know that is not true.

Our lives, relationships, and impact are not measured by search results. But in today’s world, if a story is not documented, it can be easily forgotten. That is why storytelling matters. It ensures the people and moments that shape us are remembered.

Many people throughout history are invisible in the digital space, and I have made it my mission to change that. The National Library has archived my blogs as part of Australia’s digital history, recognising the importance of recording our experiences. But you do not need to be a writer or historian to ensure that the stories of your loved ones are preserved.

One simple step is to label your treasured photos. Add names, dates, and locations to the back of old family pictures. Tell the stories behind sentimental objects in your home. Even a short note explaining why something matters to you can turn an ordinary object into a meaningful piece of family history.

My own family’s history is deeply tied to the Illawarra. My maternal ancestors arrived in Kiama in 1831, and my paternal family settled in Dapto in 1841. The men in my family were well documented, but the women’s stories were largely missing.

My great-grandmother’s obituary, which only refers to her as “Mrs John Lindsay,” speaks volumes about the era in which she lived. It highlights how women were often defined by their husbands with their own identities overshadowed. Despite being described as an “ideal wife and mother,” her individuality, accomplishments, and personal story were left untold. It raises the question of how many other women’s legacies have been reduced to a mere mention in relation to their husbands.

When my parents passed away, I realised there was no public record of them, no trace of their lives online. Growing up, we did not even have family photos displayed in our home. I only discovered a picture of my mother through a Jamberoo Family History Facebook post.

That moment changed everything for me. My cousin, Mark Emery, has been documenting our family history for The Bugle, and through his research, I found my parents’ wedding photo and a beautiful image of my mother at 15. By writing about my parents, I have not only preserved their names but kept their stories alive, ensuring future generations can find them, remember them, and understand their lives.

My own journey has been shaped by storytelling. After leaving home and marrying young, I unexpectedly became a farmer’s wife. Later, I managed a pharmacy, but a series of armed robberies deeply affected me – an event that forced me to re-evaluate my path.

Stepping away from pharmacy, I found purpose in community engagement. I helped establish the Kiama Wine Show, promoted dairy through school programs like Picasso Cows, and was ultimately named Kiama’s first Electorate Woman of the Year. These experiences reinforced something crucial.

For years, agriculture faced negative press, and a friend in marketing gave me invaluable advice. “If you don’t tell your story, others will tell it for you.”

Recognising the need to change this, I was established a charity to support young agricultural advocates in developing their storytelling skills. Over two decades, the charity worked with top journalists to train young people in crafting compelling narratives, ensuring that their voices were heard and their contributions to agriculture were recognised.

If we do not tell our own stories, others will tell them for us, or worse, they will not be told at all.

More recently, I made the difficult decision to close the charity I had been running. The challenges of working with schools post-COVID, combined with my growing passion for local storytelling, led me to refocus my energy on my own community.

The Bugle covered some of my community talks, and before long, they invited me to write for them. What started as pro bono work turned into a contract role covering council and feature stories.

The most rewarding part of this work is meeting and interviewing fascinating people, uncovering stories that would otherwise go untold.

Throughout my career, I have learned that awards and recognition are not about personal validation. They are about elevating a cause. Every time I won an award, I nominated someone else the following year, and I encouraged them to do the same. I am particularly passionate about the Hidden Treasures Honour Roll for regional women. Last year, I nominated three local women. They were honoured to be included, and now they are eager to nominate others in turn.

We all have stories worth telling, whether they are our own or those of people we admire. So, I leave you with a few questions.

Who in your life has a story that should be shared?
Have you considered documenting your family’s history?
Would you like to learn how to record these stories?

Let’s make sure the voices of those we love are not lost to time. Whether it is writing a blog, labelling old photos, or simply sharing memories with the next generation, every story we tell adds to the rich tapestry of history.

#Storytelling #DigitalLegacy #FamilyHistory #PreservingMemories #LocalHistory #Kiama #TheBugle #CommunityStories #DocumentYourStory #HistoricalRecords

The Lindsay Family History: A Story from My Father’s Side

John Lindsay SR

Jane Musgrave

John and Mary ( nee Dunster) Lindsay

This is the story of my family on my father’s side since their arrival in Australia in 1841. It was written by my Aunty Ruth.

Three children of William and Mary (née Simpson) Lindsay from Fintona in County Tyrone, Northern Ireland, came to Australia. George (1802-1866) arrived on the “Orestes” in 1841, accompanied by his wife Jane (née McCauley, 1790-1879) and five children. John, who had married Lillian Cochrane, arrived with eight children in 1852 on the “Kate,” but sadly without his wife, who died on the voyage. John settled in the Shellharbour area. There was also a sister who came to Australia later, but details about her are sketchy. It is with George that we are concerned.

William Lindsay & Mary Simpson who arrived in Sydney on 14.05.1841 on the Orestes.

Child	Date of Birth	Date of Death	Spouse
Sister	?	?	?
John Lindsay		1870	Lillian Cochrane
George Lindsay	1802	1866	Jane McAuley 1790 -1879

George and Jane were brought to Sydney by A.B. Smith and Co. as a farmhand and dairymaid, and the bounty cost for the family was seventy-three pounds. George bought a small store at Charcoal (later renamed Unanderra) in 1841, which had been established in the 1830s by a Mr. Beaver. He purchased a property south of the Berkeley Estate which he called ‘Lake View’ because of the fine view of Lake Illawarra. Here he started dairying and mixed farming. He is said to have sent the first keg of butter from the Illawarra to Sydney and also grew wheat and potatoes. His produce was taken to Wollongong in a dray pulled by a bullock using a horse collar turned upside down. This method of harnessing a bullock became the standard practice in the area. He was granted a parcel of land of 35 acres in 1843. George must have been a go-ahead type, for as well as being a successful farmer, we know that he also bought land at Cordeaux which was later sold to Peter Carr, – my great- great-grandfather on my grandmother (Ethel Lindsay-nee Carr) . He died at Lakeview in 1866. Much later, my grandfather rented Lakeview from the then owner, Ernie Lindsay, and here my father spent his early days.

Ethel Lindsay with daughter Ruth and son John Lindsay

George and Jane had five children: William, John, George, Anne, and Thomas. William (1829-1881, married Sarah Bryen) was an excellent sportsman and established the Farmers Inn at Charcoal and was a popular mine host for many years.

The five children of George Lindsay and Jane McAuley:

Child	Date of Birth	Date of Death	Spouse
William Lindsay	1829	1881	Sarah Bryen
John Lindsay	1832	1894	Jane Musgrave
George Lindsay	1834	1896	Eliza Little
Anne Lindsay	1838	Not specified	James Wilson
Thomas Francis Lindsay	1840	1889	Sarah Philips

John (1832-1894) became a successful dairy farmer. George (1834-1886, married Eliza Little) was an excellent rifleman and competed with the Australian team at Bisley and was later appointed Council Clerk for the Illawarra Shire, a position he held for 45 years. Anne (born 1838) married James Wilson of Victoria. Thomas (1840-1889, married Sarah Phillips) was a successful farmer, but it was John who is the important one in our line of descendants as he was my great, great, great grandfather.

Jane Musgrave

John Lindsay SR

John married Jane Musgrave (1828-1917) at Campbelltown in 1851. She was also an immigrant from County Tyrone. They prolifically produced nine children: Anne (1853-1903), George (1855-1946), John (1857-1930), William (1858-1859), Elizabeth (1861-1944), Sarah (1862-1948), Thomas (1864-1941), Charles (1868-1950), and Lavinia (1870-1907) between their marriage and 1870.

Anne, Elizabeth, Sarah and Lavinia Lindsay

The children of John Lindsay and Jane Musgrave

Child	Date of Birth	Date of Death
Anne	1853	1903
George	1855	1946
John	1857	1930
William	1858	1859
Elizabeth	1861	1944
Sarah	1862	1948
Thomas	1864	1941
Charles	1868	1950
Lavinia	1870	1907

Of these, only one, William, died in infancy aged one year, which speaks well for their lifestyle in those days of high infant mortality. Jane Musgrave was from Gortmore in County Tyrone and arrived in Australia on the “Victoria” in 1849. She already had three brothers in the colony: John, Thomas, and Charles, and her parents (Charles Musgrave and Ann Love) were deceased. Her occupation is listed in the shipping register as dairymaid, but it is well known that emigration agents in the old country listed occupations to which the immigration authorities were sympathetic to facilitate acceptance by the authorities, so this may not be correct. An interesting sidelight is that John Musgrave stated during the course of his 1861 insolvency hearing that he would have “asked his brother-in-law John Lindsay” to sign a promissory note “but John Lindsay had a lot of Doctors bills and was also building a house.”

John Lindsay was Illawarra’s outstanding farmer for many years. He started on his father’s grant but soon bought more land, first at Kembla Park where he built the family home, and then bought up adjoining properties of another 150 acres as well as 200 acres from the Berkeley Estate, one of the large original grants in the area. In 1876, he bought the western half of Mrs. Brooks’ 500-acre grant, “West Horsley,” and the remainder of the grant a few years later. Mrs. Brooks and Miss Weston had inherited the grant from Lieutenant William Weston, their brother, to whom the original grant had been given, and who had named it after his hometown West Horsley in Surrey. He also bought “Horsley,” part of a grant made in 1821 to John Horsley.

This farm was to the west of West Horsley. His son George was placed on Horsley, and son John on the eastern half, which was West Horsley. The confusion between the names and their respective positions is a result of the methods of naming used by the original grantees. A very progressive farmer and the largest Ayrshire breeder in the area, he purchased a prize Ayrshire bull, The Earl of Beaconsfield (named from Benjamin Disraeli’s title) from Victoria. Many considered this a foolish extravagance, but it enabled him to breed Honeycomb, the champion NSW cow of its day, which was said to set the standard for all dairymen. He also bought the champion New Zealand bull, Cheviot.

HoneyComb, What She Is, and What She Can Do

This article, ( Sept 1897) authored by “St. Magnus,” highlights the renowned dairy herd from Kembla Park, Unanderra, established by the late Mr. John Lindsay. Known for his exceptional judgment of dairy cattle, Mr. Lindsay assembled one of the finest herds in Australia and potentially the world. His cows consistently excelled as prizewinners and milk producers at agricultural shows both on the South Coast and in Sydney, attesting to his expertise.

Mr. Lindsay’s sons have continued his legacy, effectively maintaining and enhancing the quality of the herd. Data from Mr. T. W. Lindsay reveals the herd’s impressive average annual milk yield, even during challenging seasons. In the favourable season of 1894, an average of 80 cows at Kembla Park produced 827 gallons of milk per cow annually..

In 1876, the price of butter fell to 6d a pound, so with his brother-in-law James Wilson and Thomas Wilson, he brought a cheese factory from Victoria and established it in Brown’s old flour mill at Brownsville. Dairymen supplied milk at 3½d per gallon, but when the price of butter rose a few months later, they ceased to supply, and the venture foundered. This machinery was then moved to West Horsley, where butter and cheese continued to be made with success, as many prizes were won for both cheese and butter.

He became involved in public affairs, becoming a JP, and when Central Illawarra was proclaimed a municipality in 1859, he was chosen as one of the nine aldermen at the first election. He was also one of the main proponents of a public school at Unanderra and was a signatory to the application to the education department for such a school. He also was present to help with the enrolments on the first day. When the Mullet Creek bridge was opened in 1861, he was there to represent the council.

Bridge over Mullet Creek, Dapto, New South Wales, ca. 1880s [picture] / Charles Kerry

His funeral in 1889 was reported to be the largest seen in the Illawarra. When Kembla Park buildings were demolished in 1969, a bottle was found containing several items: an 1881 threepenny piece with a hole in it, a copy of the Wollongong Argus dated Sept 1, 1886, a letter “This letter was placed under this stone on the 2nd day of September 1886. This dairy was built for Mr. John Lindsay JP by Mr. William Newson for one hundred and ninety pounds. He was the largest Ayrshire breeder in the colonies and was the largest prize taker for both cattle and butter,” and a list of children. Also, a double sheet on the back of which was written: “Latest events; Sydney Agriculture Show; Quarter Sessions: The first wild flower show ever held in Dapto: The first Ball at Unanderra.”

Lindsay family photo: Back Row: Charles, Margaret Campbell, Helena Miller, George, Lavinia, Charles, Muriel, Mary Dunster, John Lindsay. Middle Row: Eustace Evans, Millie (in front of Roy), Roy, Sarah Evans, Jane Musgrave, Hessel, Lizzie, Arthur, Walter. Front Row: Lindsay Evans, Harold, Isobel, Hilton, Grace, Doris, Hilda, Eric, Estelle, Ella, Tom

Of his family, only four married: George, John, Sarah, and Charles, but Charles’s marriage was childless. This John (born 1857) is my great grandfather, and he married Mary Dunster at All Saints Church of England Macquarie River on 25 March 1885. Mary’s grandparents Joseph (1788-1861) and Mary (née Randall) arrived in Sydney on the “Lady Nugent” on November 27, 1838, from Stone Oxney, Kent, England, and took up residence in Shellharbour. Their fourth child, Joseph (1826-1877), who was one of the original councillors of the Shellharbour Shire, married Jane Elizabeth Stratford, and the second child of this marriage, Mary, was born on April 19, 1858.

John and Mary lived at West Horsley and ran a successful dairy farm. There were 10 children of this marriage: Jane Eva Muriel (“Jan”: 1887-1961), Charles John (“John”: 1888-1964), Joseph Roy (“Roy”: 1890-1929), Walter Dunster (1893-1967), Eric Stratford (“Gug”: 1894-1970), Harold Thornbury (1895-1959), Mary Estelle (“Estelle” 1897-1962) Olive Doris(“Dos”:1899-1980) Hilda (1900-1963) Thomas Hilton (“Hilton”:1902-1964).

Of these 10 children only three married. John married Eileen McPhee a childless marriage, Hilton married Edith Martin and had one child and my grandfather, Walter, married Ethel Carr and had 4 children. It is interesting to speculate why in the last 2 generations of 19 children only 7 married and of these 7 marriages only 5 produced children. Was there a shortage of suitable partners ? We know there was the shortage of fit men after the carnage of the WW1. We know from anecdotes that there were plenty of social engagements with dances, picnics and tennis parties.

Eric Lindsay (Gug) enjoying himself with Nettie Evans and with Estelle Lindsay (on the left )

All the sons became farmers. The eldest son, Charles John, was placed on a property on Flagstaff Hill and Roy on Berkeley Crescent. When Roy died of appendicitis John took over Berkeley which had a bigger home and remained there till the property was resumed for housing in the migrant boom of the years following the second world war. Harold and Hilton farmed West Horsley .

Estelle and Doris lived there with Harold and Hilton built a separate house on the farm. Hilda trained as a nurse and attained the rank of Matron.

Hilda Lindsay

Eric Lindsay

Jan lived in Sydney and worked in secretarial positions. Eric (“Gug”) and Walter farmed first at Lake View which was rented and then at Karara where they built the family home .John (Walter’s father) placed each of his sons on a property but we do not know how much he contributed to the cost of the properties.

Muriel Lindsay

Roy Charles and Walter Lindsay

Unfortunately little is known of Mary Dunster who was known for being a “nice lady” and was loved by all and my grandfather Walter, whose second name, Dunster, was the family name, and he was named for Mary’s favourite brother.

Sadly her obituary tells us little and I’m struck by a recurring theme: the erasure of women’s identities. Reading the obituary of my great-grandmother in the Kiama Independent from June 10, 1925, it’s evident that women were often not given the dignity of being named in their own right. MRS. JOHN LINDSAY – not even her first name is mentioned. Instead, she is an extension of her husband’s identity. This was a woman who lived a full life, moving from Tullimbar to Shellharbour, raising a family, and being an ‘ideal wife and mother’. Yet, her personal identity is overshadowed by her husband’s name.

MRS. JOHN LINDSAY. Wednesday June 10 1925 Kiama Independent

on consultation with his brother, decided to have the opinion of a specialist. Consequently Dr. Poats of Sydney arrived with a special nurse and an operation was performed, but although the operation was in itself successful, Mrs. Lindsay’s strength was not equal to the great shock incurred and she gradually sunk until death took place in the presence of her loved ones on Sunday night.

Mrs. Lindsay was born at Tullimbar and came to Shellharbour with her parents, the late Mr. and Mrs. Joseph Dunster, when quite a tiny child. She spent her girlhood at the old home at “The Hill” until her marriage with Mr. John Lindsay ,about 40 years ago, since then she has resided continuously at “West Horsley.” An ideal wife and mother she will be sadly missed by her loving husband and family of six sons and four daughters. Of Mrs. Lindsay’s brothers and sisters Mrs. J. E. Miller (Shellharbour), Mrs. Musgrave (Dunoon), Mr. Joseph Dunster (Billinudgel), and Mr. Walter Dunster (Dapto) still survive. One sister, the late Mrs. John James and two brothers the late W. C. Dunster and Robert Dunster, of Shellharbour, pre-deceased her. The funeral took place at Brownsville Church of England cemetery yesterday (Tuesday) afternoon.

#LindsayFamily #AustralianHistory #Genealogy #FamilyHeritage #DairyFarming #19thCentury #CountyTyrone #NorthernIreland #Immigration #Shellharbour #Illawarra #Unanderra #AgriculturalHistory

Ethel Lindsay: A Life of Dedication and Inspiration Through the Eyes of My Aunt Ruth Rae

Today’s post is the story of my grandmother Ethel Lindsay (née Carr) 1896-1994, told through the eyes of my aunt Ruth Rae (née Lindsay).

Ethel Lindsay as a young girl

Ethel Lindsay in 1978

The third daughter of Lawrence and Jane Carr, Ethel was born at Cordeaux . She was their third child and three sons were to follow in later years.

My mother’s early years were not often mentioned. There were so many relatives at the time that the names that featured in conversations floated in and out over the heads of children. Many relatives, even distant ones, had honorary titles of Aunt and Uncle and very little of family affairs was discussed “in front of the children”. Even in later years the reticence held and glimpses of earlier times are fragmented and often incomplete.

Ethel Lindsay with her sisters Mary and Alice Carr in 1978

I suspect that Mum was the brightest intellect of the family. She was only afforded schooling to the end of primary years though, through the generosity of her mother’s sister, Sarah, the two eldest girls were sent for three years to St Mary’s College in Wollongong. Mary(May) became a governess and Alice(Bob) trained as a nurse. Mum had to stay as home help for her parents and younger siblings. The only way we know of her prowess as a horsewoman is because of a snapshot of her on a horse and a half-remembered anecdote about winning some prizes that afforded the means to buy material and cottons for sewing.

Ethel Lindsay as a young woman on horseback

There are only two school anecdotes. One is of being allowed out of school to watch the first car in the district go by. It was preceded by a man waving a red flag. The other concerns an incident with her school teacher, Mr Rose. In the stand at the tennis court Mum discovered Mr Rose’ tennis clothes and, putting on the trousers, she jumped up on the table and did an impromptu dance. What she didn’t realise was that the teacher had observed her. The next day the class was to write an original essay. Mum began hers with an old ditty: “You asked me for something original But I hardly know how to begin For there’s nothing original in me Excepting original sin” . When the essays were handed back the next day Mr Rees had appended his own observation:” I know there’s a deal of original sin And a jolly good lot of it reaches A long way up and a good way round When you wear Mr Rose’ white breeches“. I think this shows nearly as much about the teacher as it does about Mum.

.After she left school, life settled down to housework, outings, sewing (often by kerosene light at night) and other crafts. Mum dabbled a little in painting though we have no examples. She played the cello and there must have been singing and music around the piano for Mary played that instrument while Alice played the violin. She was also said to be an excellent horsewoman. I never heard stories of her life at Cordeaux, nor, after the family moved to Unanderra, how she met Dad ( Walter Dunster Lindsay). They had to wait a long seven years before marriage was possible, she because of family commitments and he because he had to save enough money to pay his share of the property he shared with his brother, Eric, and some of the sum needed to build a house. They were married on April 28 1928 at St Phillips Sydney by Bishop Irvine, coadjutor Bishop of Sydney

Walter and Ethel Lindsay on their wedding day

Ethel and Walter Lindsay

The first four years were spent in a farmhouse on a property, Lakeview owned by Ernie Lindsay. This house was an old home with wide verandahs, no electricity and open fireplaces. I remember the latter because, in the summer time, possums would come down the chimney of the lounge at night and were fed with hunks of bread. There was a mulberry tree near the back gate and I’ve no idea why I remember that so well. A hammock hung on the side verandah and that I do remember clearly because I stood up in it to show off and falling off, I broke my arm for the first time. I was born on February 24 1929 and sixteen months later my brother, John, made his appearance. Mum had developed a kidney complaint after I was born and was sick for some time so I was bottle fed. John had the benefit of mother’s milk and was a plump and easy baby. She is seen here at Lakeview with Ruth and John in the squatters chair she gave her husband for their first wedding anniversary.

The property at Karara had a small old grey house on it and Dad and Gug (Eric) would camp there but , in 1933, Dad had the house built at “Karara” and we moved down there. It seems Mum designed the house. It cost 1200 pounds to build and was quite sumptuous for the times. There was electricity, but no hot water and it was many years before mains water reached the area .The windows had lead lighting in the panes of the lounge and front bedroom and most of the woodwork was Oregon. Mum kept it spotless with the help of a maid. I remember four of them and they all stayed for quite some time, pleasant local girls. When things got difficult for the men Mum would help with the milking though she hated it. She certainly hated it enough to make sure that I never learned the art. Mum’s cooking skills were well known and she was asked to judge at local shows. She won many prizes for her embroidery and was asked to judge that also as far afield as Robertson and Kiama. I remember a beautiful christening frock that she sent to the Royal Easter Show. It won the top embroidery prize and the judges were so impressed that they asked for a championship ribbon from the cattle ring and sent that back with the frock. Later she gave the frock to the Red Cross to be raffled. The raffle made about 40 pounds which was quite a sum in those days.

Visitors were treated with tremendous hospitality and always went away with gifts of flowers, cream, fruit or any goodies that were at hand. Conversely I haven’t much memory of goods flowing the other way. Mum had a love of flowers and gardens that was lifelong and culminated in ‘Karara’ winning the Herald Open Garden Competition three times.

She stopped entering after that because, she said, she had three trophies by then, one for each of her children. I should add that Gug was responsible for keeping the lawns immaculate for these displays, Dad was an impeccable weeder and Mum was the genius behind design and growth.

Those early years at Karara were Depression years. Being on a farm meant no food hardships but money was tight and every penny was counted twice. Mum was 32 when I was born which was far above the average age for first births. It may well have been my parents fierce abhorrence of debt which made them wary of having more family for some time. Mum had been brought up Catholic though her mother was Protestant and Dad was (a not particularly devout) CofE. I think avoiding having children was probably hard for them. David (left) arrived 7/7/37 and Phillip (right) was born 2 years later. They were both healthy little boys. I don’t think Mum ever got over the tragic death of Phillip at 19 months. He was a merry little fellow and very lively so that when the baker forgot to put the ring back on the gate it was not surprising that he should have run out on to the back road and been run over by the farm utility. That was a vehicle with an unusually high dashboard and Keith, who worked for us, was a short man. He too was devastated. Mum had a nervous breakdown and was in hospital for a while. We were never able to mention the baby again.

Mum had been used to a world of relatives but, as Dad was one of ten and the first to marry, I think Mum sometimes felt she’d married the lot of them. After all, Gug lived with us and it must have seemed at times as though she had two husbands to care for, one to love and the other to look after. Gug had at least four ladies lined up nearly to the proposal stage but always jibbed at the engagement ring .

Mum and Dad loved each other dearly and I never knew them to quarrel. (After Dad died Mum resented the fact that he was taken and Gug still alive and it was sad to see her being so difficult with him). Two of Dad’s sisters were only a walk across the paddocks. Nothing happened that wasn’t chewed over by the whole family. As against that the family always rallied around when sickness or tragedy struck. There are compensations and I loved all my aunts. None of the five ever had children (except Auntie May whose daughter was stillborn). When Mum was sick there were aunts to look after us. Soey Dunster (Dad’s cousin) minded me when I was a baby and Mum had nephritis; Auntie Hilda got leave from hospital and nursed John and me at West Horsely when we had influenza very badly.

Lindsay Sisters at West Horsley

Hilda Lindsay

Eric and Doris Lindsay and Soey Dunster

There always seemed to be people dropping in and the old wood stove turned out scones and cakes at a great rate. My brothers and I are always grateful to Mum for insisting that we received the education she was unable to have. I doubt if it would have greatly worried Dad but he listened carefully to all Mum’s arguments and she always won the day.

I was brought up with Ethel Turner’s and the Anne books but Mum was quite nostalgic about the “Elsie” books. Years later I bought one in a second-hand shop and found it so priggish and narrow minded as were the few other early books from my parents’ childhood that I could understand why so much of their lives seemed staid and conformist. While we were young Mum and Dad only had two holidays, both at ‘The Cecil’, a guest house in Katoomba.

The Cecil Guest House in Katoomba is getting a new lease of life See it here

A trip to Sydney was a major event and the furthest my parents were to travel together was to visit me Grafton after I married. After Dad died Gug treated Mum to a round the world Herald Garden Tour special. This was marred at the end by Gug’s sudden death as he was leaving a football match. It was while she was preparing for the trip and needed a passport that Mum discovered that she hadn’t been christened Ethel Hope as she’d always believed but Ethel Sarah. She also discovered that her birthday was on September 26th not 28th. (Alice was to discover in the same way that she had been celebrating and noting her birthday some ten days later than her birth certificate claimed. Perhaps Laurence had been celebrating on the way to the registry!).

When Gug died it became impossible for Mum to live alone at Karara and she moved to a strata title unit in Wollongong.

Ethel Lindsay centre with her children Ruth John and David at her unit in New Dapto Rd

Karara was sold to a man who, as a youth, had looked at the place from afar and always longed to own it. He looked after the house very well but knew nothing about gardening and so the garden fell on hard times.

In Wollongong Mum had friends from her days as a member of the Garden Club. She joined the Red Cross and was put in charge of the hiring of medical equipment. But the time came when she needed family care. As I at the time was looking after May and Bob in Grafton nursing homes David settled Mum just up the street from his own place in a very neat cottage complex with a small yard back and front. He and Rosalind looked after her untiringly and lovingly. I tried to visit her as often as possible and wrote regularly every Sunday, receiving letters in return written in handwriting I’d have been proud to call my own. After she died and David retired he sold his home and moved there himself. She was nearly 98 when she died and was very much her own person until a few months before her death.

Ethel Lindsay with great grandson Nick Strong at her grandson Michael Lindsay’s wedding circa 1989

#EthelLindsay #FamilyHistory #ResilientWomen #DairyFarming #AustralianHeritage #CommunityInvolvement #GardeningPassion #EmbroiderySkills #FamilyBonds #Legacy

A Glimpse into the Life of Walter Dunster Lindsay through the Eyes of My Aunt Ruth Rae

Today’s post shares the life story of my grandfather Walter Dunster Lindsay (1893-1967) through the eyes of my aunt Ruth Rae (née Lindsay).

The third son and fourth child of Mary and John Lindsay, Walter was born into a dairy farming family well known in Dapto and throughout the Illawarra of that time.

His ancestors had all been farmers, leaders in the community and very well respected. He was to have five brothers and four sisters, many cousins and other relatives. See table at the bottom – none of his sisters married

He didn’t speak much of his family or his childhood though we were told he played a good game of tennis and of football in early youth until, at the age of 16, he contracted Rheumatic fever which ended such games for a long while. He told me once that while he was very ill it was his eldest sister, Muriel, who looked after him most, his mother being preoccupied with all the younger siblings.

It was during convalescence that his one tale was of the birdcage he built in the warmth of the big family kitchen. When it was finished to his liking he found it was too big to get out of the door. But we never heard what did happen to it.

He was a gentle man, slow to anger and rather shy. This shyness may well have been because he was born with a harelip and cleft palate, neither mended with today’s skills. He probably took more interest in his children than he showed but he seemed to have all the conservatism and indifference to his young family that he claimed his forebears displayed so abundantly. He left his wife, Ethel, to dispense both tenderness and discipline. Only once did he show anger and act upon it. That was when he was obliged to return to the dairy late one evening and did some damage to his shins when he tripped over his son John’s bike which had been carelessly left on the ground just outside the gate from the house. John, despite his protests, was the recipient of a sound hiding according to the traditions of justice of the day. It was only later that it became clear that it was a workman who had borrowed the bike, and not John, and had thrown it on the ground at the gate when he had finished with it. None of the children ever received any form of punishment from their father from that day on.

He did his work slowly, thoroughly and methodically, illustrated by his technique for washing up. He took responsibility for this within the dairy for half a century and, after retirement, continued it into the kitchen. First everything was rinsed, then washed immaculately, then rinsed again. It took all evening for he suspected that detergents had hidden implications for health. When he weeded a garden the result was just perfect and raked evenly to a fine tilth.

His conservatism extended to all things mechanical and, when a shortage of labour during the war forced Lindsay Bros to buy a milking machine, it was taken on with extreme suspicion and reluctance. For most of the war years the cows were milked by machine in the morning because it was the only way to get the job done and by hand in the afternoon when an extra person was available. Even with the machine his distrust was such that he always sat down and verified that the machine had done its work properly by doing a short finishing milking , or stripping as it was called. The cows gradually got used to this and saved up some of their milk for the hand milking so that some of them gave as much milk the second time around as they had initially given to the machine. Consequently milking 80 to 100 cows took and eternity and an inordinate amount of manpower- 6-7 hours a day plus another 2-3 hours for washing and cleaning the dairy equipment. There was not a lot of time for other farm work or recreation and he indulged in very little of either. This remained the case until the Karara herd was dispersed in 1958.

A treasure I inherited from my grandfather

It was many years before he could afford a car (Eric owned one and that was the family car) but he was very pleased with the one he bought and he drove it skilfully and well.

He had a good relationship with Eric and they had nicknames for each other. Dad was ‘Andy’ when Gug was ‘Horace’ while, in other gender mood, Gug was ‘Katie’ and Dad ‘Lena’. I don’t know who thought up the names, but Doss and Estelle were referred to as ‘The Tabbies’ and Estelle was ‘Longo’. John was referred to as ‘The Boss”. Of them all Dad felt closest to Roy, who Mum always said should never have been a farmer. He had a lovely tenor voice, loved books and music. He planted a groves of trees on the farm and attempted innovations like breeding special types of poultry. The few times his name came up I noticed tears in Dad’s eyes. Roy died, aged 36 of a ruptured appendix. He apparently was in great pain on a Friday but refused to disturb the doctor’s weekend so waited till Monday morning when the condition was too advanced for treatment.

Walter and Eric began to value add ( to use a modern expression) to their dairy farming activity by becoming vendors of milk. Eric was the entrepreneur (to use another modern expression) and Walter the anchor man.

Bill Seath delivering milk for Lindsay Bros, Dapto in 1940.Photo supplied by Caine Seath from Dapto History in Photos

To upgrade the herd Eric went to New Zealand and bought a prize bull. It became an extremely successful business and WD &ES Lindsay, later to be called Lindsay Bros, was , at its height . retailing more milk in the Wollongong-Port Kembla district than any other firm including the Dairy Farmers Cooperative Milk Company. Some 8 or 9 farmers in the district sold their milk to the firm and this was cooled, stored and distributed through some 3 domestic milk runs and a wholesale network that included almost every milk bar and general store from Dapto in the south to Austinmer and Coaldale in the north. Eric would go to bed early and set off in the wee small hours with a laden truck to start the days distribution. Particularly in the hot months he would leave the milk in the cool room till the last possible time necessitating the early rising. After the war draconian and unfair government regulations were imposed that forced all other farmers to sell their milk only to a government agent which was the rival Dairy Farmers Milk Cooperative. With the loss of their major source of supply, Lindsay Bros were forced to sell their domestic business and retain only the wholesale business in the city of Wollongong itself. Their milk was subjected to regular and intrusive testing, while that of the rival company was not, but were always found to be well above the prescribed norms. Eric bought the farm, “Kembla Park” and a subsidiary dairy was set up to augment the supply of milk. Lindsay Bros also bought a small farm at Albion Park to run dry and young stock But the retail business was only a shadow of its former size. The company could not afford or warrant upgrading its machinery to enable processing and pasteurization which were beginning to be an important part of the industry and the business and herd were sold in 1958. The Dairy Farmers bought the plant which they scrapped to forestall potential competitors but the herd, which had become well known for its productivity in the State herd testing scheme, attracted excellent prices for the time. Walter was 65 at this time and Eric 64 so retirement was timely option.

Sale of Karara Herd John Lindsay

Sale of Karara Herd J

Sale of Karara Herd John Lindsay

The sale of the Karara herd attracted buyers from across Australia

Dad and Mum ( Ethel Lindsay nee Carr )fell in love 7 years before they were married, the first of his family to do so. They had to wait for several reasons: her responsibilities to her parents (her two sisters had moved away and were working) and the need to have a home when the farm was established.

Ethel and Walter Lindsay

Walter and Ethel Lindsay on their wedding day

Walter and Ethel on their wedding day – photo on the right

Karara only had on it a weatherboard old house with no facilities whatever and a cloying smell of dust and age. There was also the matter of religion – he, Protestant and she, Catholic. The exact details of the arrangement that allowed this to happen were never divulged but Mum was presumably excommunicated from the Catholic Church because she never attended mass again. They were married in St Phillips in Sydney and went home to a rented house called “Lakeview’ at Unanderra- a house with no electricity and home to a host of possums. Gug joined them and lived with them for the rest of their lives. Dad spoke of the Catholic Church only with bitterness but he always avoided mentioning the subject of their marriage.

Fortunately, the acrimony did not extend beyond the church and the Carr and Lindsay families had an extremely good relationship. For example , Gug and Auntie May were particularly fond of each other, platonically of course, and the Christmas table at Karara always had all available members of both families around it.

Ethel Lindsay with her sisters Mary and Alice Carr

After the business was sold the garden became a pleasant hobby.

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He had always had a love of nature and knew all the birds around the farm. He watched them nesting and was so determined that they would not be disturbed that he told nobody about it. I often regret not having been allowed to share his knowledge. Mum would always consult him before hanging out the washing, and I can’t remember that his forecasts were ever wrong. I understand that he had only one year of secondary schooling, but he must have absorbed a tremendous amount of knowledge later as he read the Herald from cover to cover.

One very cold winter when Dad and Mum were house-sitting in Cowra for John and Robyn, I sent them an electric blanket. This was a sheer delight to him – there was only one control and he would set it to keep very warm, while Mum, who couldn’t spoil his enjoyment. slept with both feet outside the sheets. When small battery radios came in he considered it pure heaven to lie in a warm bed, head in the cool air, listening to news from far places. Then I would be called in to prepare a very large, cold milkshake which he drank with gusto before turning out the light.

He had been plagued for years with a so called ‘gastric ulcer’ and frequently complained of severe indigestion. In his late sixties this symptom was belatedly diagnosed as a severe hiatus hernia with oesophageal reflux. The strictures in his throat prevented him swallowing and he was admitted to hospital in Sydney for an operation. Five days post-operatively he was sent home, sitting up in an ambulance. He was a long time recovering. By this time his cardiac system was showing signs of damage and he died in Wollongong Hospital in April, 1967. Thus passed a good man who had never knowingly hurt a living thing. His last thought as he died was for Mum whom he adored and she was to live on for over twenty more years without him.

Phillip, Walter and Ethel Lindsay are buried at St Lukes Church Brownsville

#WalterDunsterLindsay #FamilyHistory #DairyFarming #IllawarraHistory #ResilientLife #CommunityLeaders #FarmLife #20thCenturyStories #SiblingBonds #Heritage #Legacy

Table – John Lindsay and Mary Dunster and children

Name	Born	Died	Status
John Lindsay	1857	1930	Married: Mary Dunster
Muriel	1887	1961	Unmarried
Charles	1888	1964	Married: Eileen McPhee
Joseph Roy	1890	1929	Unmarried
Walter Dunster	1893	1967	Married: Ethel Carr
Eric Stratford	1894	1970	Unmarried
Estelle	1897	1962	Unmarried
Harold Thornbury	1895	1959	Unmarried
Hilda	1900	1963	Unmarried
Doris	1899	1980	Unmarried
Hilton	1902	1964	Married: Edith Martin

OBITUARY. MR. JOHN LINDSAY.

Mr. John Lindsay, a member of one of the pioneer families of the Illawarra, died suddenly at his home, West Horsley, Dapto, on Sunday evening, aged 73 years. He had only returned home on Friday after a holiday trip in the Western districts, and appeared in the best of health. The late Mr. Lindsay was born near Unanderra, and was a son of the late Mr. John Lindsay, of Kembla Park, who was a noted breeder of Ayrshire cattle. The late Mr. Lindsay was also a noted cattle breeder, and met with many successes at agricultural exhibitions. For many years he was a member of the committee of the Dapto A. & H. Society, and at the time of his death was one of the trustees of the Society; he was also a Churchwarden of St. Luke’s Church of England, Brownsville. He was held in very high esteem in the district, being a man of very high principles, his word being his bond. The funeral on Tuesday was one of largest ever seen in the district. A short service was held in St. Luke’s Church of England, prior to the interment in the cemetery attached to the Church grounds. The Rev. O’Neil, an old friend of the family, and the Rev. Chapple were the officiating clergy. The late Mr. Lindsay was predeceased by his wife some four years ago, and he is survived by five sons, Messrs. Charles, Walter, Eric, Harold and Hilton, and four daughters, Misses Muriel, Estelle, Doris, and Hilda. One son, Roy, died some years ago. Messrs. George, Thomas, and Charles Lindsay are brothers, and Mrs. E. T. Evans, Dapto, and Miss Lindsay, Kembla Park, are sisters of the deceased. Mr. Charles and Miss Hilda Lindsay had just arrived in Tasmania on a holiday trip, when they received the news of their father’s death. They immediately crossed to Melbourne and arrived in Sydney on Wednesday by means of one of the aeroplanes of National Airways Ltd. We extend our sympathy to the bereaved family. Source

As I delve deeper into my family history, I’m struck by a recurring theme: the erasure of women’s identities. Reading the obituary of my great-grandmother in the Kiama Independent from June 10, 1925, it’s evident that women were often not given the dignity of being named in their own right. MRS. JOHN LINDSAY – not even her first name (Mary) is mentioned. Instead, she is an extension of her husband’s identity. This was a woman who lived a full life, moving from Tullimbar to Shellharbour, raising a family, and being an ‘ideal wife and mother’. Yet, her personal identity is overshadowed by her husband’s name.

Obituary – MRS. JOHN LINDSAY. Wednesday June 10 1925 Kiama Independent

The death took place at her residence “West Horsley,” Dapto, on Sunday night, of Mrs. John Lindsay. ‘The deceased lady had been in her usual health until Wednesday evening last when she was suddenly overcome by alarming symptoms of what appeared to be peritonitis. Dr. Kerr, of Wollongong was called in immediately and on consultation with his brother, decided to have the opinion of a specialist. Consequently Dr. Poats of Sydney arrived with a special nurse and an operation was performed, but although the operation was in itself successful, Mrs. Lindsay’s strength was not equal to the great shock incurred and she gradually sunk until death took place in the presence of her loved ones on Sunday night.

Lessons from the Paddock through the Delicate Dance of Giving

In a land not too far from the imagination, where the tales of generosity and lessons learnt intertwine with the lives of those on four legs and two, there lies a story. A tale so rich in wisdom and warmth, yet sprinkled with the bittersweet realities of human nature, that we’ve taken the liberty to alter the names. Not for the sake of those who give, but to cast a shadow of anonymity over the takers—lest they recognise themselves and take offense, or worse, take again. So, let us embark on the journey of Alice (not her real name, of course) and her equine companions. 🐎🎭

Alice’s father, with an eye sharper than the keenest blade, could spot a diamond in the rough—a pony, emaciated and forlorn, standing in a ditch, yet radiating untapped potential. These were the ponies that Alice, under her father’s guidance, would transform from overlooked gems into champions of the show ring. 🌟

From Rough Diamonds to Show Winners

The process of transformation was more than just a physical makeover; it was an emotional journey of building trust, understanding, and mutual respect between human and horse. Alice, with her innate talent and relentless dedication, turned each pony into a testament to the power of potential, winning not just ribbons but the hearts of all who witnessed their metamorphosis. 🏆

The Unseen Challenges of Generosity

However, the path of generosity is often strewn with obstacles, and Alice’s journey was no exception. Word of her miraculous touch spread far and wide, attracting the attention of local farmers who saw an opportunity not in the magic of transformation, but in the end result. As Alice and her father poured their love and expertise into each pony, the once-doubtful owners now saw dollar signs in their eyes, often forgetting the sweat, tears, and sheer love poured into every transformation. 💔

The Wisdom of Boundaries

It was through these experiences that Alice came to a profound realisation—the world is a mix of givers and takers. Her natural inclination to nurture and transform was exploited by those who saw her generosity as an opportunity for gain. This harsh lesson taught her the importance of setting boundaries, not to build walls but to safeguard her own well-being and ensure that her generosity was cherished, not exploited. 🛡️

Embracing the Balance

Alice’s tale is a reminder of the delicate balance between giving and preserving oneself. It’s a story that resonates with anyone who’s ever given a piece of themselves, only to find it taken for granted. Through her journey, Alice found strength not just in her ability to transform but in her newfound wisdom to protect her spirit, teaching us all a valuable lesson in the art of giving and the necessity of boundaries.

In life’s grand dance, may we all learn to give with open hearts but also to recognise and protect our worth from those who would take without thought. For in this balance lies not just the art of giving, but the essence of living.

#HorseWhisperer #LifeLessons #Boundaries #Generosity #PersonalGrowth #EquestrianLife

Continuing the Stories of My Family Treasures by Remembering those who came before us – Part Two

Continuing the stories of my family treasures.

This particular item is a real treasure, both of monetary and sentimental value. It is stored in a safety deposit box, to be passed on to the next generation who will appreciate its significance.

As mentioned in “Remembering Those Who Came Before Us – Part One” Eric Lindsay and his brothers were impressive footballers and tennis players.

In the early 20th century, winning a premiership came with “real” gold medals. Charlie Lindsay played 1st Grade football for Port Kembla, and they must have won the competition in 1922. Eric Lindsay and Charlie Lindsay also played 1st Grade football for Dapto, winning the premiership in 1919.

In 1906, Eric Lindsay won the Junior Tennis Championship, and his victory was celebrated with “real” gold, all accompanied by this beautiful “real” gold fob chain.

To continue the family tradition, I had my son’s national ski championship awards replicated in gold and added to the family history fob chain. I am confident the next generation will value them as much as I do.

While it is sad that these treasures are kept locked away, I would be devastated if I wore the fob chain and lost them. Just having the capacity to share their story gives me great joy

#FamilyHistory #Heirlooms #LindsayFamily #FamilyTreasures #SportsAchievements #FootballHistory #TennisHistory #GoldMedals #FobChain #GenerationalLegacy

Table – John Lindsay and Mary Dunster and children

Name	Born	Died	Status
John Lindsay	1857	1930	Married: Mary Dunster
Muriel	1887	1961	Unmarried
Charles	1888	1964	Married: Eileen McPhee
Joseph Roy	1890	1929	Unmarried
Walter Dunster	1893	1967	Married: Ethel Carr
Eric Stratford	1894	1970	Unmarried
Estelle	1897	1962	Unmarried
Harold Thornbury	1895	1959	Unmarried
Hilda	1900	1963	Unmarried
Doris	1899	1980	Unmarried
Hilton	1902	1964	Married: Edith Martin

Discovering Family Treasures and Remembering those who came before us – Part One

I am thrilled to share that my recent house decluttering has unearthed a number of photos and stories I wasn’t aware I had. These treasures from my family history have brought me immense joy, and I am delighted to share them with you.

I feel incredibly fortunate that my great Aunt Soey and my grandmother Ethel Lindsay shared some of the Lindsay family heirlooms with me. Aunty Soey, in particular, provided little stories along with the items—often jotted down on envelopes or gathered from conversations with others.

One treasured item is a photograph of my grandfather, Walter Lindsay (bottom row, 2nd from the right). This was the only photo Aunty Soey could find, as he wasn’t keen on having his photo taken due to a hair lip and cleft palate, which couldn’t be repaired during his lifetime. You can read more about Walter here.

Additionally, I have my grandfather’s bible, another cherished keepsake from Aunty Soey. She also gave me a teapot and jug that belonged to Tom and Lizzie Lindsay (brother and sister), each accompanied by little stories that bring their history to life.

I’m especially excited to have photos of many of the people featured in these stories. From left to right in one of the photos are Eric (Gug) Lindsay, Doris (Dos) Lindsay, and Soey Dunster.

The Story Behind the Teapot and Jug

According to family legend, Eric Lindsay was an impressive sportsman who played first-grade football for Dapto. He won the teapot stand for being the MVP. The teapot and jug were handed down from Tom and Lizzie Lindsay, who lived at Kembla Park.

This little snippet from the Illawarra Pioneers explains the lineage of the family members, including Walter, Eric, and Doris Lindsay.

Table 1– John Lindsay and Mary Dunster and children

Name	Born	Died	Status
John Lindsay	1857	1930	Married: Mary Dunster
Muriel	1887	1961	Unmarried
Charles	1888	1964	Married: Eileen McPhee
Joseph Roy	1890	1929	Unmarried
Walter Dunster	1893	1967	Married: Ethel Carr
Eric Stratford	1894	1970	Unmarried
Estelle	1897	1962	Unmarried
Harold Thornbury	1895	1959	Unmarried
Hilda	1900	1963	Unmarried
Doris	1899	1980	Unmarried
Hilton	1902	1964	Married: Edith Martin

Table 2 Where Tom and Lizzie fit in one generation back

Name	Born	Died	Status
John Lindsay	1832	1894	Married: Jane Musgrave
Ann Jane	1853	1903	Unmarried
George	1855	1946	Married: Sarah I.H. Grey (1886)
John	1857	1930	Married: Mary Dunster
Eliza	1861	1944	Unmarried
Sarah Jane	1863	1948	Married: Evan Eustace Evans
Thomas William	1864	1941	Unmarried
Charles Love	1868	1950	Married: Margaret Campbell
Lavinia (Lizzie) Florence	1870	1907	Unmarried

See the next post in the series here

Memories of my Father

RIP John Lawrence Lindsay 18th June 1930- 9th February 2023

My dad, John Lindsay, in his happy place

Over the years I have written a number of posts featuring my father here and here and here and here

I invited him to share with me his journey but I never managed to persuade him. There is a believe in the digital age that if you are not on Google you don’t exist. At this point in time its my memories of my father that document his life. I think that’s sad because my memories are a little tainted by my PhD in judgment

This post will be work in progress – I will use it to document the memories as I reflect

My memories of my father are crisp

He loved his dog Lucy and Lucy was his nickname for me so I will take that as a sign

John and Lucy in October 2013 – with special thanks to Colin Seis for making my dad happy

We are all products of our life experiences and the decisions we make are often a result of some of the first things our parents say to us.

My father was the first born son of a pioneer Illawarra dairy farming family and he hated milking cows.

A well remembered mantra to his children growing up was “never learn to milk a cow”

My father convinced his father to sell the dairy farm at Dapto and buy a farm for us at Cowra – my father leading a cow at the sale of the herd in 1958

He was a traditionalist. Another mantra that is front of mind is “the first born son always inherits the farm”

When you are told from an early age boys are more important than girls and you have a highly competitive nature, you may be very determined to disrupt the status quo. At times I feel it has consumed me

Some things I remember

My father had a great eye for a good show horse. He could spot potential everywhere, driving past a paddock, at the knackery and other people’s cast off’s

My brother, sister and I were all good show riders – but it was the competitive spirit in me that my father tapped into to realise the potential of the “bargains” he picked up

My father was very proud of his haymaking skills

Early days on the farm at Cowra in the early 1960s

My father loved raising prime angus steaks for your table.

The look on his face when he topped the sale yard

My father was a disciple of the Ford XR6 and belonged to that special group of octogenarians who drive utes with low profile tyres

He even had a short term career as a brand ambassador

John Lindsay – influencer 😊

and on this day 45 years ago

I imagine over the next few weeks I will locate the photo albums and more memories will surface

We can all spend our lives trying to convince one person we are worthy OR you can recognise your inherent value and worth by accepting yourself completely while focusing on building your self-worth.

Acceptance includes being kind to yourself, allowing yourself to be vulnerable and human and to treat yourself with compassion.

Please share with me what you are doing to look after you?

#movementofchange

and a big shoutout to my dad’s next door neighbours The Jamiesons – they are magnificent humans and the best of the best of neighbours – they took very good care of my dad whilst his family were far away.

and from the heart

Legacy of Echoes: A Patriarch’s Path”

In the crisp corridors of memory’s lane,

A father’s tale, etched with joy and pain.

Lucy, his dog a loyal companion, a love profound,

A thread woven in life’s tapestry, tightly bound.

Born to a dairy farming pioneer’s name,

He detested milking cows, yet played life’s game.

A first-born son, tradition’s weight he bore,

A mantra echoed, an age-old lore.

“Never learn to milk a cow,” he’d decree,

A patriarch’s voice, shaping destiny.

From Dapto’s dairy fields to Cowra’s embrace,

He moulded our fate, in life’s endless chase.

A traditionalist at heart, his creed held fast,

“The first-born son inherits the vast.”

In the echo of privilege, a narrative spun,

Where sons were favored, and daughters outrun.

Competitive spirits, a family forged,

In a world where boys were urged,

To inherit the farm, the legacy prime,

A challenge issued across the time.

Show horses and bargains, a keen eye’s sight,

A legacy of prowess, woven tight.

Prime angus steaks for the table to grace,

A father’s pride in life’s vibrant race.

Haymaking skills, a craft honed with pride,

In the golden fields where ambitions ride.

Topping the sale yards, a triumphant gaze,

In the competitive dance of life’s displays.

XR6 engines and utes with low profile tyres might,

A brand ambassador, an unexpected height.

John Lindsay, an influencer, a patriarch’s role,

In the narrative of a life, a significant scroll.

Yet, in the shadow of a patriarch’s decree,

A daughter’s heart, a spirit so free.

For in a world where boys were deemed grand,

A relentless spirit, a determined stand.

The echoes of patriarchy, a complex strain,

Yet within, resilience and strength remain.

Acceptance whispers in the winds of time,

A daughter’s journey, a rhythm sublime.

For in self-acceptance, the true worth found,

A legacy disrupted; a new path crowned.

Kindness to self, vulnerability embraced,

In compassion’s arms, a sacred space.

In the legacy of echoes, a truth to unfold,

A daughter’s story, resilient and bold.

Beyond the patriarchy’s intricate art,

She finds her worth, a brand-new start.

A little bit of family history scandal makes fascinating reading

With a close friend currently doing dairy genomic research in Ireland I was inspired to try and locate my family origins and see if she was close by

Both sides of my family arrived in the Illawarra region of NSW via Ireland between 1830 and 1841.

By the time I found myself back to my dairy roots, my father’s family hadn’t been dairying for 20 years and family history was rarely discussed

But as they were early settlers there is no shortage of family history online and I must admit I was fascinated by the evocative language of the time. The obituaries (see bottom of page) in particular make compelling reading.

And I am so glad I did this research I just would have loved to have known my great, great grandfather. It appears he was a bit of a trendsetter, didn’t mind standing out from the crowd and had his fair share of knockers.

John LIndsay

This is how he is recorded in local history – don’t you love the language

‘John Lindsay was one of the leaders in the dairy industry. John was an innovative thinker, willing to take risks in building up his dairy cattle. He owned a herd of Ayrshire dairy cattle that was the envy of his peers.

Lindsay was born in Ireland, in 1832, arriving in Australia in 1841 on the Orestes. In 1878, John created a minor scandal when he purchased “The Earl of Beaconsfield’, an Ayrshire bull, for 100 pounds ($200). Local farmers thought this was foolish and extravagant. These cattle enabled him to make his herd outstanding, producing prized dairy products and show animals for many years. A daughter of Lord Beaconsfield named Honeycomb was declared the Champion Cow of the World in 1889 wining 62 ribbons and producing 36 litres of milk per day.

and the fabulous HoneyComb

Cows in Australia today can produce up to 120 litres per day and over 23,000 litres per year and some 160,000 plus litres in their lifetime. One of the key visual differences is the length of the cows teats. In 1889 it was preferential for cows to have longer teats because they were milked by hand.

Today their teats are much shorter, their udders more compact and cows have been bred to have the ability to produce large volumes of milk from increased feed conversion efficiency ( that is ability to turn grass into milk very efficiently) which means they generate less green house gas emissions per litre of milk produced.

I am confident my great, great grandfather would be very excited about the dairy cows of the 21st century and would be enthralled by the genomic research that Dr Jo Newton is doing in Ireland. I feel a guest blog coming on

* the obituaries make compelling reading. This is how the death of my great, great grandfather’s younger brother was reported

THE LATE MR. T. F. LINDSAY.

As briefly stated in last issue, Mr. T. F. Lind

say, of Unanderra, died somewhat unexpectedly

at his residence on Friday afternoon. Mr.

Lindsay had been in his usual state of health

Thursday, on which day he was engaged branding

calves. While overheated, he drank rather

copiously of water, and in the afternoon com

plained of severe cramps in the stomach. Dr.

Thompson was sent for, and pronounced the

attack one of British cholera, at the same time hold

ing out little hope of recovery. Though everything

that medical skill could devise was done, Mr.

Lindsay, after a brief illness of less than

twenty-four hours, but which was very severe

while it lasted, succumbed to the dread malady

in the afternoon of Friday. Mr. Lindsay being

widely known throughout the district and

deservedly held in the highest esteem, a very

large concourse of people had assembled at his

late residence at noon (the hour fixed for the

funeral), but a telegram having been received by

the family from an only sister of the deceased

gentleman who resided near Melbourne to the

effect that she was leaving by the express train,

and asking to delay the funeral if possible, the

mournful procession was delayed until 2 o’clock.

The funeral cortege was one of the largest ever

seen in this district. On reaching St. Luke’s,

the coffin was conveyed into the church, where

the Rev. J. Stack, the incumbent, conducted a

short service, after which the body was consigned

to the tomb in close proximity to the graves of

the deceased’s lamented father and mother

and other members of the family, Rev.

J. Stack again officiating. The late Mr.

Lindsay was of a genial and kindly disposition,

and universally esteemed for his many virtues.

For some years past he took a warm interest in

municipal matters, and occupied a seat in the

Central Illawarra Council. He also took an

active part in the formation and furthering of the

interests of the Unanderra dairy factory, of

which he was also a director. Like the rest of

the family of that name, he was a successful

dairyman, and at all times took a prominent part

in connection with the Dapto Agricultural and

Horticultural Society, being an active member of

the committee up to the time of his death. The

deceased gentleman was the youngest member of

the Lindsay family, and was almost a native of

the district, being only one year old when he

arrived here with his parents. He died in the

full strength and vigor of his manhood, having

only reached the age of 49 when he was thus

suddenly cut off. He leaves behind him (in ad

dition to other relatives to mourn their loss) a

widow and twelve children, the ages of the latter

ranging almost from infancy to well on towards

25 years.