St Maurice

If sainthood were more than a political appointment, Fr Maurice Adams would be so named. As a young parish priest from the Holy Spirit Catholic church in comfortable Manifold Heights Maurice went to Kanabea in the highlands of New Guinea as a missionary. 

For him it was a dream come true.

He then qualified as a doctor, established a hospital, built an airfield

and obtained his flying licence.

These were his people until his death from cancer.

 

Sister Cyril

What Mother Theresa did for the dying of Calcutta, Cyril did in education for the poor of Kolkata, India.

As principal of Loreto Day School, Sealdah (an exclusive private school for girls), Sister Cyril established programs for the deprived (which became a world-wide phenomenon).

Recognised in India ( Padmashri award) and invited to speak around the world (including at the United Nations), her programs have been adopted throughout India and many other countries.

 

 

 

Cabbage tree Ned

Edward Devine, born in 1833, brought the art of coach driving to a new height. By 1854 he was driving coaches on the Geelong-Ballarat Road. After Cobb & Co. acquired this route, Devine became one of their best-known drivers.

For a time he drove the 'Leviathan' coach, the largest to appear in Australia, and by 1862 he was earning the very high wage of £17 a week. In that year he was assigned to drive the first All-England cricket team to visit Australia, on their tour of Victoria. His spectacular handling of a new coach with twelve magnificent light greys won him widespread fame.

 

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Peter McCann

truly the grandfather of Fyansford, established the Australian

Portland Cement Co. Ltd. in 1889 and then Australian Portland

Cement Co. Pty. Ltd. in 1905.  McCann was chairman and also general manager (managing director from 1946) of Australian Cement Ltd until shortly before his death.

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Auntie Margo

Margaret Enscoe, nee Harrington, from Merino, story-teller and mother with a marshmallow heart, was an unassuming, hard-working and loyal farmer's wife back in the days when trunk telephone calls required connections with two exchanges down the line, outside toilets were standard, lamps were the only form of lighting, water ran directly from a tank through a hole in the wall into the kitchen sink, bath water had to be boiled over the stove, drying clothes were hung over a timber frame from the ceiling, firewood needed to be chopped and cows were milked twice daily.

I treasure those times spent within aunt Margo's embrace.

 

And, of course, seats for both Mary and me.

 

One seat left...