Kiama’s museum shows what truth telling looks like

Kiama’s Pilot’s Cottage Museum has been recognised on the state stage, collecting a Highly Commended award at the Museums and Galleries of NSW Imagine Awards this week. It is an achievement that says a great deal about the calibre of work quietly happening in this town.

Out of 114 entries, only 28 awards were given. Major institutions with full time staff, curators and budgets many times larger than Kiama’s, including the Australian Museum, the National Maritime Museum, Powerhouse and UNSW, walked away empty handed. Kiama Historical Society was the only organisation across the Illawarra, Shoalhaven and South Coast to receive an award.

The prize acknowledged the museum’s transformed Aboriginal history displays, a project developed in partnership with respected Wodi Wodi Elder Dr Aunty Joyce Donovan. Over the past year, the Society has rethought the entire museum through a simple question, whose history is missing?

The answer reshaped everything.

A volunteer team quadrupled the space dedicated to Aboriginal stories and placed them at the centre rather than the margins. The result is far more than an updated display. It is a shift in how Kiama tells its past, moving away from a settler only lens and towards a shared story that invites honesty, awareness and reconciliation.

When I sat down with Tony Gilmour, he described the outcome as a “living museum”. Stories are not fixed behind glass. They are open to the ongoing knowledge, guidance and correction of Aboriginal people. Visitors are encouraged to see the whole landscape of Kiama, from long before colonisation through to the present, as one continuous story.

It matters. It shows what can happen when a community organisation chooses curiosity over defensiveness, partnership over tokenism, and truth over comfort. It also shows what happens when volunteers believe in the work enough to carry it through.

In a year where heritage debates have become louder and more divisive, Kiama has been recognised for doing something far more generous. Listening. Learning. And making room.

An award was not the goal, yet it confirms what many already know. Good things grow here when people work together.

#KiamaPilotsCottageMuseum #Aboriginalhistory #ImagineAwards2025, #KiamaHistoricalSociety #Communityleadchange #TruthTelling, #LivingMuseum #Illawarraheritage #SouthCoaststories, #ListeningLearningMakingRoom #Sharedhistory #Volunteerpower #Culturalrecognition #NSWmuseums

Community Legend Bob Young has a farm that grows farmers as well as grass

Over seventy family members and friends recently gathered at Kiama Leagues Club to celebrate Robert (Bob) Young’s 90th birthday. It was a milestone that said as much about the man as it did about the community that has grown up around him.

Robert John Young was born on 30 October 1935 at Lindfield, the youngest son of Eric and Ruby Young and younger brother to Owen and Ron. In 1948 he moved to his mother’s family dairy farm on Riversdale Road, Jamberoo. Apart from a short stint at Westons, the farm became his life’s work. It later became known as Merley Friesian Stud and remains an active dairy farm today.

Bob married Annette in 1962. They raised three children, David, Colleen and Neil, and now have eight grandchildren, Zac, Dylan, Sarah, Callum, Byron, Lachlan, Aiden and Ellis. In 2018 Bob and Annette moved to Blue Haven on Terralong Street, closing a long chapter on the farm but not on community life.

At the celebration, speeches from family and long-time friends returned to the same themes, Bob’s commitment to faith, family and the wider Jamberoo and Kiama communities. His service includes Kiama Rotary, Kiama Show Society, the Jamberoo Golf Club, the Jamberoo Quartet, Jamberoo Rugby League, Jamberoo Tennis, Kiama Anglican and Kiama Men’s and Mixed Probus. In 2011 he received Kiama Council’s Citizen of the Year Award.

The family story of succession began close to home. David returned to the farm as a young man and took up dual careers, dairy farming alongside a growing building business. He kept the farm running during a period when extra hands were needed. When building work picked up and a young family followed, Bob encouraged him to choose the life that made sense. David went on to a successful career across several sectors and later into senior leadership roles with Anglicare, with the full support of his parents.

That choice opened the way for a different form of succession, one centred on opportunity rather than inheritance. The first share farmer was John Deen, who stepped in when Bob was around sixty. The farm then passed to the Grant brothers, early risers and very capable farmers. They were followed by the Honeys, who stepped in at a time when a major equipment failure could have ended the operation altogether.

Today the farm is run by Mat and Sarah Parker. They represent a new generation of dairy farmers locked out of land ownership by soaring prices yet determined to stay in the industry. The Young family’s approach gives them a pathway, a future, and room to grow.

That is Bob’s quiet gift to the valley. A farm that does more than grow grass. A farm that grows farmers. A farm that continues to reflect the values of the man who turned ninety, surrounded by people who carry those values forward.

#JamberooHistory #KiamaHistory #DairyFarming #IllawarraDairying #JamberooValley #FarmingSuccession #YoungFamilyJamberoo #MerleyFriesianStud #LocalFarmingStories #BobYoung90th #KiamaCommunity #FarmSuccession #GrowingFarmers #RegionalHeritage #IllawarraFarmers

The accident that changed everything, the day Kevin Richardson stayed and Stuff was born

Kevin Richardson reminisces about driving milk tankers through the flood waters on the Terragong Swamp to make sure Australians could get the best quality butter ever made in this country

Kevin Richardson was destined to spend his life under the cranes and furnaces of Port Kembla. His apprenticeship papers were lined up, his grandfather had vouched for him, and the general manager of the steelworks had smoothed the way. Then the rules intervened. He was fifteen, not sixteen, and too young to start.
“Go back to school for a year,” they told him.
He didn’t.

Instead, he walked next door.
Kevin’s family lived right beside the Jamberoo Dairy Factory. Fifty metres down the road lived the Boxsells, with Geoff already set on a dairy technologist’s path. Kevin asked manager Wally Boxsell for twelve months’ “gap year” work. One year on the floor, then he would head to the steelworks. That was the plan.

He stayed forty-three years.

Kevin’s working life began in milk reception, the most basic job in the place. But he had mentors everywhere he turned. His father, Bill Richardson, was the foreman and passed on the value of hard, careful work. In the test room, Ned Roach spotted talent early and lobbied for Kevin to be trained properly so the factory would have someone ready when he retired. And in the churn room, the first butter maker, Steve Dare, taught him the craft. Steve was sharp, funny, a bit unpredictable, and utterly brilliant at butter. Kevin learned to trust both the science and the instincts that Steve had honed over decades.

By the time Kevin became the factory’s first laboratory manager, he already understood the principle that shaped everything Jamberoo produced: you cannot make great butter from average milk. The farmers carried the quality first. The factory carried it next.

It was Kevin who helped shape the butter that went on to win Supreme Champion Dairy Product of Australia in 1976. And when Geoff returned from Hawkesbury College and a scholarship to New Zealand with new ideas and the confidence to try them, Kevin was the partner in crime who made the impossible work batch after batch. Together they cultured cream before anyone else did, and together they created the trial product locals, with Jamberoo bluntness, called Stuff. It was spreadable butter long before spreadable butter was legal.

Kevin Richardson in the lab at Jamberoo Dairy Factory in the 1970’s

Kevin remembers the valley in its working days, the swamp full of dairies, the quiet local knowledge that kept trucks moving through floodwater, and the afternoons when neighbours caught up at the pub rather than through tourism menus. He also remembers the characters, the mishaps, and the farmers who handed down wisdom along with their milk.

The flood water can get very high at Terragong Swamp – confident the tankers kept away when it got this high

He never set foot in the steelworks. The factory claimed him instead.
And Jamberoo is better for it.

You can listen to Kevin and Geoff Boxsell reminisce about Stuff here with Mel James on ABC Illawarra

Kevin tells great tales read some of them here

#KevinRichardson #JamberooHistory #JamberooFactory #DairyInnovation #SpreadableButter #StuffButter #IllawarraHistory #SouthCoastStories #AustralianDairy #LocalLegends #HeritageStories #ForgottenHistory #DairyPioneers #ButterMakers #FoodInnovation #RegionalNSW #IllawarraVoices #JamberooValley #LegacyStories

Jamberoo where Stuff happens

Once upon a town, Jamberoo was known as the place where we control the action.

These days, it may need a new tagline.

Come to Jamberoo where Stuff happens.
Come to Jamberoo the home of Stuff.
Jamberoo where Stuff was invented.

Geoff Boxsell in the laboratory at Jamberoo Dairy Factory in the 1970’s. Geoff with his “partner in crime” Kevin Richardson invented spreadable butter. At that time the NSW Department of Agriculture declared it an illegal activity. They weren’t allowed to call it butter so they called it Stuff

Or perhaps something even better, because the story now sweeping across the country is turning our quiet valley into the unlikely star of Australian dairy innovation.

Geoff Boxsell pictured here with his daughter Kate was presented with the 2025 Dairy Research Foundation Dairy Science Award

Geoff Boxsell’s award win has set off a media chain reaction that feels part documentary, part folklore, and entirely Jamberoo. Reporters are calling, film crews are circling, and everyone wants to know how a little factory on the edge of the village managed to stir up the national industry long before spreadable butter became a supermarket staple.

Geoff and Kevin Richardson on ABC Illawarra talking to Mel James

And of course, the answer is simple.
This is Jamberoo.
Things happen here that no one expects but everyone remembers.

https://www.abc.net.au/listen/programs/radionational-breakfast/spreadable-butter-geoff-boxsell-dairy-science-award/106088818?utm_content=link&utm_medium=content_shared

Stuff was created in a shed where people used their brains, their hands and a dash of cheek. The regulators tried to shut it down, the locals kept making it, and the valley quietly perfected a formula that would one day become part of everyday Australia. Not bad for a place better known for cows, cricket, football and committee meetings. You can read the backstory here

Geoff always gives full credit to his team of innovators. People like Kevin Richardson (top left ) Ron Oke and Ron Parker ( bottom L to R )

That’s why the sudden media fascination feels oddly fitting. Geoff’s story has always been bigger than the boundaries of the valley. It’s the tale of a kid who grew up near the factory gates, learnt from his father, outsmarted a few bureaucrats along the way, and ended up shaping the dairy sector with equal parts intelligence and mischief.

So if Jamberoo wants to ride this wave and reclaim its rightful place on the map, I say embrace it.
Paint it on a sign.
Put it on a tea towel.
Give the tourists something to chuckle about as they pass the fig trees and the paddocks.

Come to Jamberoo where Stuff happens.
It has a certain truth to it. In this valley, it always has.

Tune into WIN News to see Geoff tell the story

Geoff Boxsell is also a well known ditty writer so we had this one written for him

They say a valley keeps its heroes
in places most folk overlook,
in a churn, in a lab, in a quiet man’s hands,
not in speeches or in books.

They say a scholar crossed the Tasman,
came home with a scientist’s eye,
turned sugar, cream and culture
into butter you couldn’t deny.

He stirred up the Jamberoo factory,
no fuss, no chase for applause,
proved science lives in a dairy
as much as in lecture halls.

Fifteen years of “Choicest” butter,
not once did the graders frown,
and one bright year that champion box
made the whole valley proud.

He tinkered with spreads before their time,
(sent samples to ministers too),
got told to “pull his head in”
but kept thinking the way thinkers do.

So raise a glass for the scientist
whose footprints shaped this land,
for the butter he made, the people he taught,
and the work done by his hand.

The valley keeps its legends,
some sung and some held in trust
and if you ask who earned their place,
Jamberoo answers: “Geoff Boxsell.
Honourable. Clever. Just.”

Photos in this story have been sourced from Jamberoo Factory archives and the contributors to the Remembering Jamberoo History Facebook page

#Jamberoo #WhereStuffHappens #GeoffBoxsell #DairyHistory #SouthCoastStories #SmallTownInnovation #Kevinrichardson

Dear family this story is not about you

After months of shaping chapters, adjusting timelines, and deciding what this story needed to say, I can finally write the sentence I’ve been waiting for. The book now has a prologue, an epilogue and a complete story between them.

The last month has been the busiest part of the whole process. This is when all the questions surface. Which characters belong at the heart of the story. Who faces the hardest moments. Who gets the chance to rise. Who falls short. Who finds love. Who heads off to war. Who turns out to be the hero, and who does not.

And yes, the villain works for Council. I enjoyed that creative decision more than I should admit.

My book is a literary historical novel set in an Australian dairy valley at the turn of the twentieth century, where reputation is currency and silence is a form of survival. When a young woman arrives from elsewhere and makes a life that does not follow the town’s rules, the community begins to decide who she is allowed to be. The novel explores how judgement forms, how power circulates in small places, and how women learn to live inside expectations they did not create. This is a novel about how towns remember, how they punish, and what it costs to live without apology when belonging is conditional.

At its heart, the book asks what happens when a woman’s worth is decided by a town rather than her actions

It asks what kind of courage it takes to live outside the towns’ permission when the cost of doing so is silence, reputation, or belonging.

My family has lived in this region since 1831, but I only became a permanent resident in 1977 when our village had around 800 people. It is closer to 2000 now, yet somehow we have held onto that small village feel where people care deeply about one another and keep a close eye on the stories unfolding around them. It is also a very proudly a place where Stuff happens

Dear Family You will be very pleased to hear. None of you appear in this book. Not one. This is fiction. I have not followed our dairy history and I have not recreated any family members. The only real connection to the past is the way women were treated. Their work, their limitations, their expectations. That theme deserved attention and it certainly gets it in these pages.

Since mentioning the book’s completion, a couple of long-time families from where I grew up in Cowra have already reached out. They have stories of their own, especially about the women who shaped their communities in ways history often forgets. I will be catching up with them soon so we can capture some of those reflections together.

The manuscript is finished. The conversations that follow will be something else entirely.

#WritingCommunity #AustralianAuthor #HistoricalFiction #NovelWriting #WomensHistory #Kiama #Jamberoo #AuthorLife #BookLaunchPrep #Storytelling

Kiama’s party history society shows how heritage gets done

There are book launches, and then there is the Kiama Historical Society throwing itself a fiftieth birthday party with cake for 40 that somehow feeds about 145.

On 22 November the Society launched Dr Tony Gilmour’s new book Celebrating History Defending Heritage 50 years of Kiama Historical Society at Kiama library. The running joke of the afternoon was that this is not a dull, dusty organisation. As Tony reminded us, this is the Party History Society. The program proved his point.

A welcome that starts where it should

President Sue Eggins opened by introducing a room full of living history. Former mayor and founding instigator Neville Fredericks. Long-time leaders Ben and Margaret Meek. Volunteers, members, councillors and mayors. Then she handed to Aunty Dr Joyce Donovan, Wodi Wodi Elder and founding Aboriginal patron, to welcome us to Country.

Aunty Dr Joyce Donovan- Patron with Sue Eggins- President Kiama Historical Society.

Aunty Joyce did what she always does. She began with story. La Perouse to Red Rock and down this coast. Salt water people. The last great corroboree at Kiama. The birthing places along the Minnamurra river. The tent that became the first Illawarra Aboriginal medical service, and her job as a young woman lighting the fire so the doctor could wash his hands.

She talked about what happens when Aboriginal memories and settler memories sit side by side. Families bring her documents and stories, she tests them against the old people’s knowledge and the historians’ papers, and together they build something solid.

“Between the lot of us,” she said, “we have some fantastic stuff here.”

From archives to fish and chips wars

Then it was Tony’s turn. In between promising not to write another book for at least a year, he walked us through five decades of local history work. The birth of the Pilot’s Cottage Museum.

The very polite but determined shift from “serious scholarly society” to “we like a party as well as write papers.” Heritage weeks with costumes and home-grown theatre.

He reminded us that this town went from losing buildings without a second thought to describing itself proudly as a heritage centre. That didn’t happen by accident. It happened because people like Sue, Ben, Neville, Gordon and Heather Bell, and many others, went from writing letters to fronting picket lines, collaring ministers on Terralong Street when buildings like Barroul House and the police residence were under threat.

Sue followed with forty years of personal memories. Discovering the Society accidentally over high tea in the Pilot’s Cottage. Mentors like Fran Whalan and Bill and Joan Leyshon who seemed to live up there with paintbrushes in hand. Four decades of fights for buildings that many towns would have shrugged off as too hard or too far gone.

She listed exhibitions that have quietly shaped the way locals see this place. The Lost and Found Treasures of Kiama show that documented houses we saved and houses we lost. The celebrations of Charmian Clift and Orry-Kelly that reclaimed people who barely rated a mention in their own town at the time of their deaths. The recent Orry-Kelly gala opening, complete with furs and frocks, that turned a costume designer into a household name again.

What struck me, listening to Aunty Joyce, Tony and Sue, was how much of Kiama’s identity now rests on the work of volunteers who read minutes, chase grants, run events and, when needed, stand in front of a bulldozer with a clipboard.

Fifty years on, the Historical Society is still doing what its constitution once called “promoting social intercourse” and what we might now call bringing people together so our stories do not get paved over.

Mayor Cameron McDonald (left) and Fiona Phillips MP (right) are patrons of the Kiama Historical Society, alongside Aunty Joyce Donovan. Dr Tony Gilmour (centre back), Vice President of the Society and author of the two books shown, joined them at the launch. Apologies to Aunty Joyce, she was in such demand on the day that I missed getting a photo of her with the full team.

On the way out, people bought books, poured wine, served cake and argued cheerfully about which battle over which building was the hairiest. It felt fitting. If history in this town is safe in anyone’s hands, it is probably in the hands of a party loving history society that knows how to mix frocks, fireworks and footnotes.

The book is available through this link for $25, with free delivery in the Kiama council area. All proceeds to Kiama Historical Society.

BTW Readers I do have better quality photos which I will locate and replace some currently in this blog

#KiamaHistory #KiamaStories #LocalHeritageMatters #HistoricalSociety #CommunityHeritage #LivingHistory #WodiWodiCountry #AuntyJoyceDonovan #PilotCottageMuseum #KiamaVolunteers #ProtectOurPast #DefendingHeritage #CelebratingHistory #CharmianClift #OrryKelly #KiamaIdentity #HeritageChampions #SavingOldKiama #IllawarraHistory #FiftyYearsStrong #GrassrootsHistory #HistoryInTheHandsOfCommunity #PartyHistorySociety #KiamaProud #RegionalHistory #CultureAndCommunity #OurSharedStory #HeritageIsCommunity #KiamaVoices #LocalLegends

When Jamberoo’s dairy men outsmarted Mrs Jones.

Julia Child famously said “With enough butter, anything is good”.

It is one of those delicious footnotes in Australian dairy history. While the margarine world rolled out Mrs Jones (see footnote images), the fictional housewife who campaigned against margarine quotas in Australia, the men at the Jamberoo Dairy Factory were quietly proving that rural ingenuity could beat any marketing campaign, no matter how determined her smile.

Mrs Jones objected loudly to restrictions on vegetable oils. Jamberoo’s dairy men responded in the most Jamberoo way possible: they made butter that tasted so good even the margarine companies secretly kept an eye on them. It was a win win born from stubbornness, pride and a deep belief that butter should never apologise for being butter.

They knew the margarine firms wanted to get vegetable oils into every kitchen. So Geoff Boxsell and Kevin Richardson and their Jamberoo Dairy Factory team simply did the unexpected.

Mrs Jones, the fictional housewife claimed Australians deserved choice, Geoff and Kevin quietly made a different kind of choice available

They worked out how to blend cream with safflower and sunflower oils to create the first spreadable butter, long before anyone in a city boardroom saw it coming. They faced threats that their factory licence would be revoked and even received a stern letter from the NSW Department of Agriculture telling them “to pull their heads in.” The men kept going.

Jamberoo Dairy Factory had the best butter in the state for 15 yrs in a row and in 1976 won Supreme Dairy Product in Australia.

The result was a product so successful that it immediately found a local black market of farmers who refused to hand it back once the Department of Agriculture paused its release. If anything, Mrs Jones proved useful; the louder she complained about margarine quotas, the more the Jamberoo team doubled down on better butter.

In the end, both sides claimed victory. Mrs Jones rallied the nation’s housewives. Jamberoo’s dairy men created a spreadable butter that reshaped breakfasts for ever. A fictional housewife and a group of practical innovators from a small valley accidentally created the same outcome: more choice for everyone at the table.

A win for Mrs Jones, a win for Jamberoo, and a very big win for anyone who has ever tried to spread cold butter on toast.

The Backstory

The long battle between butter and margarine

Timeline of the Mrs Jones campaign, the margarine quotas, and what Jamberoo did differently

Early 1900s to 1950s

Regulation of margarine begins

State governments introduce strict limits on margarine manufacture to protect the dairy industry.
Some states impose colour bans so margarine cannot resemble butter.
Quotas are applied to table margarine production.
The dairy industry is politically powerful and deeply connected to rural communities.

1950s

The protectionist system tightens

Margarine producers must apply for manufacturing quotas.
The dairy industry defends quotas as essential to farm incomes.
Vegetable oil processors, including peanut, safflower and sunflower growers, begin pushing back.

1962

The Mrs Jones campaign begins

Marrickville Margarine launches an advertising campaign built around a fictional consumer known as Mrs Jones.
Mrs Jones is framed as the reasonable Australian housewife who wants freedom of choice and who finds production caps ridiculous.

1963 to 1966

The campaign escalates

Full page advertisements and pamphlets appear.
Mrs Jones asks why Australian families should be denied affordable spreads.
The dairy lobby hits back hard and brands the campaign misleading.
Hansard records members saying the campaign is “scurrilous”.
Source: Qld Hansard 1966.

Mid 1960s

Supreme Court cases

Major litigation unfolds between State regulators and Marrickville Margarine.
Cases such as Beal v Marrickville Margarine Pty Ltd become landmarks in food regulation.

Late 1960s to early 1970s

Public sympathy grows

Mrs Jones becomes a household name across Australia.
The campaign becomes one of the country’s most successful long form consumer advertising efforts.
Pressure builds for reform as people question why a spread made from Australian-grown oils is so heavily restricted.

1974 to 1977

Quotas begin to collapse

State by state, restrictions start to fall.
NSW formally withdraws its quota system in 1977.
Australia moves into a period of deregulation.

1980s to 1990s

The aftermath

Margarine becomes mainstream.
The original Mrs Jones ads are remembered as a turning point in food regulation.

Key players

Marrickville Margarine Pty Ltd

The company behind the campaign. They produced margarine using Australian vegetable oils. Their survival depended on challenging quotas.

Richard Charles (Dick) Crebbin

Managing Director and later Chairman of Marrickville.

Determined to break the quota system.
Green-lighted the Mrs Jones campaign.
Source: Australian Dictionary of Biography.

Ben Dawson

Head of the campaign’s early direction.
Source: Australian Oilseeds Federation history.

Solomon (Sim) Rubensohn

Advertising strategist from Hansen Rubensohn McCann Erickson.

Designed the tone and personality of Mrs Jones.
Known as a pioneer of persuasive political and retail advertising.
Source: ADB biography.

State Agriculture Ministers and Dairy Boards

Defenders of the quota regime.

Kept strict licensing in place for decades.
Believed margarine posed an existential threat to dairy incomes.

Vegetable oil farmers

Indirect stakeholders.

Their industries (safflower, sunflower, peanuts, cottonseed) carried the potential to expand if margarine limits were removed.

And then there was Jamberoo

Where innovators quietly solved the problem in a completely different way

While Mrs Jones and Marrickville Margarine ran a national political battle, the men at the Jamberoo Dairy Factory took a different path.

They did not fight margarine.
They reinvented butter.

1970s, Jamberoo Dairy Factory, staffed by innovators who refused to accept limits

Under the leadership of Geoff Boxsell, Kevin Richardson and team, Jamberoo created the first successful spreadable butter in Australia.

And here is the twist that makes the Jamberoo story a perfect counterpoint to Mrs Jones:

They achieved the win win that Sydney advertisers only dreamed of.

What Jamberoo did

They blended cultured cream with safflower and sunflower oils, using local farmers’ milk as the anchor ingredient.
They spent 18 months convincing authorities the product was safe and legal.
They received a stern warning that their licence could be revoked if they continued.
They kept going anyway.
Their early batches developed a black market among local farmers who refused to hand them back once the department pressed pause.
They created a product so successful that it became the forerunner to modern spreadable butter.

This was innovation delivered not through advertising or political lobbying but through talent, persistence and hands-on dairy science.

The real win win

Mrs Jones argued for choice.
Jamberoo delivered it.

Consumers gained a new kind of butter.
Vegetable oil growers saw demand rise.
The dairy industry kept its identity intact.
Farmers in a small valley became accidental trailblazers.

Jamberoo did not need a fictional housewife.
They had something more powerful.
They had a factory full of people who believed that innovation was part of the job.

And let’s not forget the dairy industry had Julia Childs -if only the Jamberoo factory team had sent their sample to Julia!!!!!

Source

Footnote:

A little bit of history from The Bulletin

And this from The Australian in 1966

#ButterVsMargarine #MrsJonesCampaign #FoodRegulationHistory #JamberooInnovation #DairyScience #AgriculturalReform #AustralianFoodHistory #SpreadableButterStory #VegetableOils #SafflowerAndSunflower #InnovationInTheValley #RuralIngenuity #DairyIndustryLegacy

Packed House, Untold Stories. How Kiama Is Rewriting What We Know About Australian History”

L to R Aunty Dr Joyce Donovan, Sue Eggins and Dr Tony Gilmour

The Kiama District Historical Society’s October event drew a full house, standing room only, as locals gathered to hear Aunty Dr Joyce Donovan and Dr Tony Gilmour explore the deep Aboriginal history of the local area.

The crowd loved the didjeridoo performance by Quinten Dingo-Donovan – a moving tribute that connected the past and present.

The audience, mostly baby boomers, was visibly engaged and moved by what they heard. Many said afterward that they had learned more about the South Coast’s Aboriginal history in one afternoon than in all their years of schooling.

Aunty Joyce, a Wodi Wodi Elder and local hero recognised for her work in Aboriginal health and education, and Dr Gilmour, historian and Vice President of the Kiama District Historical Society, presented a powerful overview of Wodi Wodi Country, focussing on Kiama, Jamberoo, Minnamurra, and Gerringong. They described how the area’s saltwater people lived along the coast and gathered at Kiama to trade salt, arrange marriages, and pass on law; how Jamberoo and Minnamurra were key meeting and birthing places; and how Aboriginal names like Kiama (“where the sea makes a noise”) and Minnamurra (“plenty of fish”) connect the landscape to its stories.

Aunty Dr Joyce Donovan is presented with a certificate by Kiama District Historical Society president Sue Eggins, marking her appointment as the Society’s first Aboriginal Elder Patron — a recognition of more than 15 years of collaboration and contribution to keeping Kiama’s shared history alive.

They also revisited the history of King Mickey Johnson and Queen Rosie, whose lives in the late 1800s and early 1900s show that Aboriginal people remained part of community life long after colonisation. Their stories now form part of a new, evolving display at the Pilot’s Cottage Museum, a living history project that welcomes new knowledge, corrections, and contributions.

“This is a living history,” said Aunty Joyce. “We’re still learning, still listening, and still adding to what we know. History belongs to everyone, and it grows stronger when we share it.”

Dr Gilmour agreed, describing the project as a way of completing the story of Kiama rather than rewriting it. “We’re not taking anyone’s history away,” he said. “We’re filling in the missing chapters. The story of this place didn’t start in 1797 when explorer George Bass landed in what is now Kiama harbour. And it hasn’t stopped. It’s a continuing story that connects us all.”

The energy in the room suggested more than nostalgia. It reflected a wider hunger for understanding and a recognition that history told only through rose coloured glasses leaves us poorer.

As one attendee remarked.

“It’s time for Aboriginal history and culture to become a genuine, continuous part of the curriculum, not an elective reserved for the senior years. In a global world, young people are hungry to understand where conflict comes from and how empathy begins with truth. It isn’t about rewriting history. It’s about completing it.”

Around the world, societies are re-examining how their histories are told. When people study the past honestly, whether it’s the brutality of Europe’s religious wars or Australia’s frontier conflicts, they begin to see why divisions persist and how understanding grows from truth.

#AboriginalHistory #KiamaHistory #WodiWodiCountry #KingMickey #QueenRosie #LivingHistory #TruthTelling #AustralianCurriculum #SouthCoastNSW #KiamaCommunity #Jamberoo #Minnamurra #Gerringong #PilotCottageMuseum #LocalHistory #Reconciliation #HistoryEducation #AustraliaBefore1788 #KiamaEvents #CulturalHeritage

Clover Hill Dairies Time Capsule

Back in 2010, our family dairy farm had just been named National Primary Producer of the Year, and we were invited to put in a Banksia Award application.

I’ve just rediscovered that application, both in print and tucked away in Dropbox, and it’s a monster. Almost 200 pages long. The actual award entry? Seven pages. The rest? Ten appendices that somehow stretched to 192 pages.

As someone who now judges awards, I can say with confidence this is the last thing a judge wants to see.

But I’m delighted I still have it. Flicking through, it’s the most extraordinary time capsule of that chapter in our farm’s history , the productivity gains, the conservation work, the community projects, even the early stirrings of what would become national agri-education programs.

What at the time felt like an exercise in paperwork overload now feels like a gift. A thick, overstuffed reminder of what we were doing, why we were doing it, and how much of it still matters.

#BanksiaAwards #DairyFarming #TimeCapsule #FarmingHistory #CloverHillDairies #SustainableAg #FromPaddockToPlate #AgriEducation #Landcare #PrimaryProducer

60 Years of Service: John Downes Reflects on Jamberoo RFS

Each member of the Jamberoo Rural Fire brigade has their own story, together they reflect the strength of Jamberoo RFS, a brigade built on loyalty, service and community spirit.

Photo credit Linda Faiers

As Jamberoo Rural Fire Service marked its 85th anniversary, its longest-serving member, John Downes, shared his reflections. John has been part of the brigade for an extraordinary 60 years, and in that time, he has witnessed the service change beyond recognition.

“When I started, we had little more than a haversack and a few basic tools,” he recalled. “Now the equipment is first class. The protective gear, the trucks, the training, it is all about safety and being ready.”

For John, what stands out is how the brigade has kept pace with the modern world. “It is like life in general,” he explained. “Just like you go to the doctor for regular check-ups, the RFS makes sure members are trained, the gear is up to date, and there is support after tough jobs. Everything is checked and ready before you need it.”

The difference, he said, is clear on every call-out. “Years ago, we might have had ten members available. Now Jamberoo, just a small village, has more than 60 trained people. That makes a huge difference. The pager goes off, and within minutes the trucks are on the road. And when you climb on board, you already know what you are heading to, whether it is a house fire, a crash, or a medical emergency. If someone inside relies on medical equipment, you know to take a generator. That information saves time, and it saves lives.”

The statistics back him up. In 2024, Jamberoo RFS recorded its busiest operational year ever with 180 call-outs, an average of one every two days. Even more remarkable, the brigade achieved an average turnaround of just 4.5 minutes from the pager sounding to the first truck on the road, one of the fastest response times in the Illawarra.

The brigade itself reflects the diversity of the community it serves. Its members range in age from 17 to 83, including students, retirees, small business owners, health professionals, and farmers. In 2025, 75% of its officers are women, led by Captain Hannah McInerney, the first female brigade captain in the Illawarra.

John also appreciates the way the brigade has become more inclusive. Where once women were mainly behind the scenes, today they stand side by side with men, both on the trucks and in leadership.

“The role of women is no different,” John said simply. “They get the same training; they stand shoulder to shoulder.”

One memory that stands out for John is the Jamberoo Mountain bus crash, when a tourist bus rolled down an embankment, killing two people and injuring many others. “That was terrible,” he said. “But what I remember most is the support we got afterwards. Male and Female counsellors were at the station that night, and everyone sat down together. It helped a lot.”

After six decades, John’s reflections are not about looking back wistfully, but about recognising progress. From basic beginnings to one of the fastest, best-equipped brigades in the Illawarra, he sees the change as something to celebrate.

“It is better now,” he said. “This is progress.”

Deputy Commissioner Ben Millington presents John Downes with his 60 years of service medal Photo credit Linda Faiers

Honouring Service

The 85th anniversary was also a night of recognition, with National Medals and RFS Long Service Medals presented to members whose commitment spans decades. Together, these awards represent hundreds of years of dedication to Jamberoo and the wider community.

National Medals

Mongo Delamont – 35 years
Corrine Wesche – 25 years
Craig Downes – 25 years
Dave Butcher – 15 years
Hannah McInerney – 15 years
Nathan Minett – 15 years (not present)
John Staniforth – 15 years (not present)

RFS Long Service Medals

John Downes – 60 years
Mongo Delamont – 30 years
John Friedmann – 30 years
Gerard Blunden – 20 years
Kay Brennan – 20 years
Leanne McParland – 20 years
Andy Mullen – 20 years
Bob Parker – 20 years
Dave Brennan – 10 years
Leanne Deen – 10 years
Brian Dixon – 10 years
Pete Leeson – 10 years
Pete Williams – 10 years
John Temlett – 10 years

Each medal tells its own story, but together they reflect the strength of Jamberoo RFS, a brigade built on loyalty, service and community spirit.

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