Sunday, December 18, 2011

Australia Mine

 
One morning in Byron I woke from my bed
and what do you think I did see?
a highway stretched out all silver and shining
..and I knew where I wanted to be

So I packed up my car,
and soon hit the tar
...my adventure was just beginning..

Down the North Coast, past the cane fields
I arrived at Coolongolook River
the Mandarin tree was laden with fruit
..but the weather would make you shiver

Old Clancy's still here, and sits in his chair
his drovin' days are  long gone
when he mustered cows on The Overflow
...there's more grey in his hair now, than fair

then into the ' Castle, where the smoke stacks all belch
and the Hunter River flows
the people are friendly, the pubs are real good
and the Black Gold sits in neat rows

Through Sydney's burbs, the sky's getting bigger
the Suzuki is belting along
gum trees at last, and birds in the sky
...now I'm where I belong

Down by Lake George
the wind farms are swishing
as the sun climbs high in the sky
I glance at the needle, now gone past a hundred
..the white lines are whizzing by..

Into the Capital and down the wide Streets
The Big House House sits on its own
stand in a queue and wait for my ticket
...this is the best show in town

In the Great Hall hang ghosts from the past
their portraits are all there,
except for our Kev, and the flame haired girl
...a highly unlikely pair

Mr Whitlam is there, looking so pleased
as well he might have done
and dear old Paul in his Zegna suit
...probably still missing the fun..

John Winston sits last, looking benign
and well and truly real
his work now all done, he looks a bit sad
...he never saw the sign.
Obama was here just a few days ago
and we all soaked up his charm
the footprint he left, was graceful and light
...his smile was like a balm.

Now through the security and into the galleries,
and finally get a seat
the red headed girl's in the House now
...her rise has been quite a feat.

As she drones on, Joe's getting bored
and Tony keeps scratching his head,
' Who's paying for this ?' he just keeps on asking
...but they all want to go home to bed

Then the Man in the Box yells "Order, I say !! "
and  the afternoon drags on and on.
till Albo jumps up and yells in disgust
..." you're all a bunch of morons! "

The member for Sturt is looking real hurt
he's just been asked to withdraw
but the man in the Box refuses to budge
...he's beginning to find him a bore..

Then I call  out, " Just answer, you fools "
apparently not the done thing
two men have appeared,one on each side,
...and quietly show me the door..
So back on the road, and wave goodbye
and soon I find the turn,
where the dog still sits on that same box
.. and its still five miles from town

My children are calling, just what were you thinking?
you can't keep on a 'wandering
just turn around now, and get back up here
...on deaf ears, their calls are falling
Cos' inside the car Dylan is singing
while the cockatoos fly overhead
and the Adelong Hills sit there in the sun
and the snowfields are over the Ridge

Zip down the Hume, what a beautiful road
and across the Murrimbidgee..
now the border is close, I can see the wheat fields
...and the vineyards are racing towards me…

A Gippsland girl born and raised
the wheatfields are foreign to me
but I soon see some cows, and a farmer or two
...who send me a lazy wave

Into the Glen, Home of the Port
with vines for miles and miles
sit in the Grove, and sip on a wine
...the likes I have never have bought

Off to the Cup at Corowa now
across the mighty Murray
the horses start off, the jockeys are set
...who'll win, just nobody knows..

Its getting hot now, I need a beer
so back to the pub at  Rutherglen
the man on TV is calling the Cup
..but my horse is not among them

Then onto Glenrowan, and pose next to Ned
and wonder at his life
like me he did wander, that is,till he hung
...and paid for all his strife

Now I'm in Holbrook, a shrine to the wars
and the Army boys are all here
They all look tall,and give me a smile
..while they open up the doors

At last into Melbourne, its been much too long
where my friend waits at her door
'It's so good to see you, just come on inside'
...this place, is where I was born.
Spring has come to the Dandenong Hills
all the blossoms are out
The old house is still standing,
it's just had a reno,
...it makes me want to shout!

My family are here, and have always been
just like the
Flinders Street
Station
The green trams still run,
the Bay is out there
...and the people, just love to be seen

So the Great Southern Land is still right here
and it's always been our own 
forget about Paris, Greece or Madrid
...right here, sits the Jewel in the Crown
So happy at last, I turn to go home
but my children have just no idea
that I'm already planning, in a New Year just dawning
…just where I'll be wandering, next year..

And I'm happy to know
that it's still the same country
and the language is still 'strine
 sunburnt for sure, flooded sometimes

 ... but still this Australia, Mine !!

robyn ritchie
october 2011














Stop the boats, start the boats
or send them all to Malayasia
just let 'em all in, there's plenty of room
.the wide brown land will embrace them..


 

 
















Thursday, June 16, 2011

Parliament of NSW Hansard Transcript


 

Tribute to Joseva Rokoqo.


About this Item
Speakers - Lynn The Hon Charlie
Business - Adjournment, ADJ


TRIBUTE TO JOSEVA ROKOQO
Page: 685

The Hon. CHARLIE LYNN (Parliamentary Secretary) [6.46 p.m.]:
 
Tonight I inform the House of the untimely and tragic death of one of our most loved former staff members, Joe Rokoqo.
Joe was born in Suva and was from the village of Daku on the island of Kia offshore from Vanua Levu in the Fiji Islands.
 He went to public school in Suva and in 1978 came to Australia to study hospitality at Ryde Catering College. Joe was a good student and graduated with qualifications in Food and Beverage Management.
His first position in 1980 was at Steele's Catering at Sydney International Airport. He then went on to work in the dining room of North Sydney Travelodge.
 In 1987 he married his sweetheart, Mere Koroi, from the Island of Moturiki.
 
Mere was the first Fijian woman to become a qualified hairdresser in this country. Mere and Joe had a long and happy marriage for 24 years until his untimely death on Easter Sunday.

Joe and Mere lived in Neutral Bay, and when Joe was not working, he took every opportunity to indulge in his favourite pastime—playing golf.
 Joe was a very good player and played both at Cammeray golf course and later at Canterbury.
 In 1989 he took up a position as Assistant Food and Beverage Manager in our catering section in the NSW Parliament, where he worked for the next 16 years.
 
 In our eyes he was the boss—no job was too big, too small or too inconvenient. Big Joe was universally popular in the Parliament. He greeted everybody in the same manner.
We were all equal in his eyes—Premiers, Ministers, backbenchers, staffers and visitors.
 All were met with a beaming smile, arms outstretched and a hearty greeting.
 He was a gentle giant of a man and earned the respect of everybody who knew him.

When the catering section was closed Joe took 12 months off to spend time with his family, as by then he had been working for over 26 years.
 During the years of their marriage Mere and Joe were very active in their community.
 They fostered five children from Barnardo's Homes and loved them as their own
 
After golf, rugby union was Joe's favourite sport and when his eldest son, Joey, became a successful rugby league player with the Cronulla Sharks under 20s, he was a very proud dad, attending every training session and game. Joe loved all his children equally, and Mere spoke often of his life passion to help children find the right path, and ultimately become happy young men and women, fulfilling their potential and reaching their goals, as Joe led by example.

Joe became a men's fellowship leader in his church and a Deacon of the Lighthouse Foundation.
He liaised with the New South Wales Police Department regarding troubled youth of South Pacific Island origin, acting as counsellor, advocate and sponsor on their behalf.
He was a Justice of the Peace, and helped out in his community whenever needed.
 Members and staff who were fortunate enough to know Joe would have always seen him as a shining example of a successfully integrated migrant to this country, a loyal and hardworking employee, a devoted husband and father, a church member, a community leader, and a friend to anyone who crossed his path.
 Joe Rokoqo was all those things.
 What some of us did not know is that Joe had to fight hard to achieve those attributes.
 
There were times when it did not come easy for him; there were times when it all seemed too hard. But he fought on and beat his addictions, with Mere's love and guidance and his faith in his God, Joe eventually overcame his demons through helping others.

Joe's ability to forgive anyone for anything was a remarkable part of his character.
 
 When my hometown friend from Orbost, Robyn Ritchie's daughter Natasha was born, Mere's smiling face soon appeared around the door to her room, bearing the biggest chocolate cake she had ever seen, either before or since.
 
 Robyn's partner and Natasha's father, was Joe's best mate from Fiji, Niko Koroi.
 
 Uncle Joe became Natasha's soulmate, and she was at the church on Easter Sunday when Joe excused himself because he was not feeling well.
 He was found outside where he had collapsed a few minutes later.
 
 The world was a better place because of Joe Rokoqo and it will remain a better place because of his legacy.
 
May God bless you, Joe, and may you rest in eternal peace.
Last modified 20/05/2011 16:34:54   :  

Friday, October 30, 2009

RITCHIE FAMILY TRAVELS


The propensity for travelling the globe runs through our veins.Our ancestors were intrepid travellers, adventurers and pioneers.The World was an unknown place back then, they weren't even sure if it was round, or flat, nevertheless they boarded the 'West Wind' and sailed to Australia.
The voyage took eighteen months.
Here are some of our ancestors travelling experiences, and some of ours too!!...

POSTCARD FROM PORT PHILLIP, 1858

LETTER TO 'THE ARGUS ' NEWSPAPER - Melbourne Victoria- then known as Port Phillip, from passengers of the "West Wind "'the American ship which brought our Great, Great, Grandparents Alexander Ritchie and his wife Mary McCullum to Australia,  after the birth of Grandfather on board the ship 1.2.1853.

The letter is written by Alexanders brother-in-law Walter MaCallum.
It appears from records that the first part of the journey did not go well, the Captain was drunk, the boat was unseaworthy, and in the midst of all this, Great Grandmother Catherine, gave birth to our Grandfather, 'bless her!

Port Phillip,
28th April, 1858.
TO: CAPTAIN WRIGHT.

DEAR SIR,-

We, the passengers on board the American steam-ship "West  Wind," beg leave, before separating, to express to you their heartfelt thanks for conducting  them through the latter half of their previously protracted voyage so successfully, while you had to compete with difficulties of a most unusual kind.


They would also bear testimony to your admirable qualifications as a seaman,and uptight and honourable conduct as a gentleman, and we have felt the value of these characteristics the more for their contrast with the profligate and unprincipled conduct of those who had charge of the vessel on the first part of our voyage.


We also feel satisfied,that but for the order and discipline which you enforced among these parties, we would never have made our intended destination.

In taking our leave of you, we wish you every success in your professional career, and every happiness in private life.
  
Signed on behalf of the passengers:

WALTER B. MACALLUM.

ALEX. FOWLER.
THOMAS OWEN. 397 99


POSTCARD FROM BUENOS AIRES 2005


July 2005...So.. my 23 year old   takes off to back pack around South America, and I prepare to travel vicariously through her emails and graphic photos, which start arriving soon after she arrives.... the contents of which are not for the feint-hearted.

Dear Mum,
... that's me just sailing down the Amazon River on a tyre. It's so hot here, great to get a swim
Yes, there are alligators, but they are way over the other side of the river.
Dear Mum :
... this one's of me, hang gliding off the coast of Lima, can you see me waving? those rocks way  down below do look pretty jagged , but the Instructor says all will be ok
Dear Mum :
... me again, waving to you from horseback up the side of Maccu Pichu.
It's a bit hard to see me because of the mist, and I feel a bit sick from the altitude, also  the mountain is vertical, the white stuff is snow, the rocks are a bit slippery, and the horse has lost its footing a couple of times, but I'm having a great time !
Dear Mum :
... hello again, myself and Rhiannon are in the back of a ute with a dead chook in a sugar bag  on our way to a village in the jungle.
The chook was a gift for the Sharmon of the village, but it has died on the way because its taking a long time to get there, almost three days so far, so I'm not sure when we will arrive ,because the driver doesn't speak much English ,and drives very fast on the dirt road around hair-pin bends with 300 ft drops beside them, and I think he's been smoking Coca leaf, but I'll email you when we arrive.
Oh, might not be an Internet cafe there, never mind, we are in the Amazon Jungle on the way to the Peruvian border.
Yes  I know people sometimes disappear under these circumstances, but right now I'm more worried about the dead chook, which is starting to smell, and also I haven't eaten for two days.
And finally...
Dear Mum :
...Have arrived safely in Peru. My friend and I have just  been dispersed with tear gas by riot Police during a street demonstration in Lima, but I've had something to eat at last.
Hostel Accomodation not too good here, there's something crawling in the beds..

Oh, by the way.. there's a ticket for Argentina on its way... see you there on 25th !"
Well, you know,your kids can be a pain  sometimes, but hang in there, because they grow up and buy you airline tickets!!
So I phoned the Tax man and told him to take stress leave for two weeks, then informed my cafe team that they had just become part of that wonderful Aussie Institution, the volunteer work force !! and they were still thinking that over,  as they waved me good-bye......


Some customers said they would just wait out the front..until I got back !!!

....then I .packed my placards in the suitcase, just in case there were any really good demonstrations, and boarded Aerolineas Argentinas, for that long, long flight across the Pacific Ocean to Argentina.


.. and let me tell you, it was a long time between fags.

Sat next to a lovely Brazilian woman who couldn't speak a word of English, I don't speak Portugese ,so naturally we found a way to communicate.I told her I might have a heart attack.( Well everyone told me I probably would, because I was too old, smoked too much, Third World planes fall out of the sky, the usual cheery stuff)
Maria said something like " No worries Senora, I know what to do, just go to sleep now "
So I took her advice, which was fine, as later I discovered she was a Doctor.
Landed safely at Buenos Aires, stepped onto the tarmac, and lit a cigarette..well ??all the porters and all the customs men and women were smoking..why not ??
Went looking for  my 23 year old Aussie backpacker, and didn't have much trouble spotting her, I'd recognize those shoulders anywhere, with that big pack too, she had just flown in from Bolivia, looking happy, but a bit skinny.

After a joyful reunion with her  in a pile of legs and luggage and backpacks on the floor of the airport, oblivious to the stares of other travellers,we hit Buenos Aires, and arrived at our B & B- the Hotel Frossard on Tucaman Street,  once owned by the family of Che Guevera.

So I said  "How come the most successful revolutionaries always come from wealthy families.?"
.. and my aussie backpacker's said...
"Well, how come you're walking around  Argentina looking  at home amongst total strangers in a foreign country where you don't speak a word of their  language ?? "
The  Y generation, no idea of the Baby Boomers.
Don't they know we feel at at home anywhere in the world?
Buenos Aires..what a town. Streets so wide you can fit six cars across, Spanish architecture everywhere, beautiful bread, beautiful looking people.

Public toilets everywhere, in dress shops, leather shops, even the corner Tobacconist, with cleaners in and out every half an hour!!
No graffiti in this city. Only saw it once, on the side of a Bank,
.. in Spanish..

 BANKS ARE SHIT!!"





Mmmm .Must be Universal.

God, if only Australia had been  discovered by the Spaniards instead of the Poms, we'd be able to smoke everywhere, find a Loo, and Tango in the streets at 9.00 a.m. without getting booked by a Council Ranger for being outside the white lines.


The Black economy is alive and well in Buenos Aires.

We had our favourite place, and went there each night.
The old bloke behind the till was whacking the cash into his pocket, the drawer was always open, and the till read 20 pesos.
I think it had read 20 pesos for the last eight years. Very informal, their Economy.
Putting my key card into the ATM, imagine my delight to find there were thousands and thousands of dollars in there,well I thought,they are doing okay back in the Cafe ,I'll keep on spending.... but uh oh.. the balance in pesos, not Euros or AUD.Only one third that much.Never mind, I still bought ten pairs of shoes back with me.
Beautiful looking people, the Argentines ,and they have great style, all wear gorgeous clothes and shoes.
The shops are wonderful, all the great Designer Houses are there. Beautiful Alpaca  goods.
Argentine leather, in the latest European style, very reasonable at about $110 AUD. We shopped for coats at Only Leather on the Mall, and friend Carlo looked after us.
My Aussie backpacker couldn't decide, so just bought two!

We went to the Eva Peron's Museum in Palermo.. which houses all of Argentina's most famous daughter's stuff in a beautiful old home, which was originally one of the houses she set up for the street children of Buenos Aires in the 1930's.Her dresses,suits,hats,and jewellery, and lots of photos of her, are all on display.
Last week was the fiftieth anniverary of her death from cancer at age 33.
Not sure I approved of her husband Juan´s fascist politics but I guess he did his best for the "cabecitas negras "which is how the rich disdainfully referred to the poor, dark-skinned "peronistas" in those times, or "shirtless workers "  - which is what I'll be when I get back home, if I don't stop spending money.

My Aussie backpacker shops a lot, and eats a lot.

Anyway,Evita's body was kidnapped when she died in 1955, and taken to Spain, but was returned in the 70´s, and we also visited the crypt in Ricoletta where she is buried.($ 20,000 US if you want to be buried there! )
What a beautiful, peaceful place for her last resting place.
Seems she is still remembered either with passionate adoration, or vehement hatred.Maybe she was a Scorpio.

Also went to a demonstration in the main square near Govt house, which was very orderly, although there were a lot of Policia standing by, but we soon made friends with them!

Argentina needs the touriste dollar.





In 2001 when the Argentine economy was very bad, there were riots in the Plaza De Mayo, and 27 people were shot and killed.
Twice I have been to an ATM, and the screen says ¨sorry no pesos today ¨ so you just try another one., until you get one that's got cash in it.

Every Thursday afternoon at 3.30 pm there is a March in the Plaza by the Madres of Plaza de Mayo, some of whom are now in their eighties.It was very moving to see parents, brothers, sisters and other family
members holding photos of their children who disappeared in the late 70´s during the Dirty War..30,000 of them, taken by the Military Regime and never seen again.

They have never given up, and they still march, every Thursday.
Spent the afternoon sitting on a park bench talking to Guillermo Pesce ; a 71 year old half-Spanish half-Italian writer, whose brother disappeared all those years ago.
 The soldiers and police just came into his house one night, and took his brother, whilst his pregnant sister-in-law watched, helplessly.
He was never seen or heard of again, and Guillermo still marches along with the others, every Thursday afternoon.
Footnote : Guillermo sadly passed away in 2006.
No doubt his descendants still March every Thursday afternoon.

There are police, watchmen, security guards everywhere, every few feet, in the street, all night
No Asian people. Haven't seen a single one.
Its strange to be in a country inhabited only by its natives, after living in multi-cultural Oz.
Not many indiginous people here, I think its too far south. But some playing the pipes in the Street.

You also see children begging in the streets which looks incongrous next to Argentine shoppers hurrying by carrying 6 or 7 designer label shopping bags.
Apparently the beggars are from Bosnia, and ex-USSR mostly Ukraine.They are well organized, and arrive by bus to the city each day.
I´ve seen a boy around two and a half sitting alone in the street, filthy and begging. Of course I gave him money.

Of course, the Aussie Backpacker warned me against it ( She'd been in South America for three months )
Of course, the next day as I was walking along she said "Look behind you, Mum " and there they were,all following me in a long, long line.!!
Of course there is poverty. Extreme poverty. Of course some of the ads on Argentina TV warn viewers that child Prostitution is illegal.
But it's a beautiful, vibrant city, this'Paris of South America '
Shopping is a dream.
We could all take a lesson in Customer Service from the Argenines.
On arrival, they greet you, then leave you alone, only approach again if you obviously want help, and then they are charming and helpful, but not pushy.
The cafe con leche ( coffee with milk ) arrives with a tiny glass of mineral water. Nice touch.

Each night the chefs in their big hats from the restaurants and cafes pace up and down outside their place, and spruik.
Competition is fierce. They hand out the menu to passers by, and get them in
They do this by saying the food at the other restaurants is crap, and theirs is better.
We could try that in Sydney ( as opposed to just gossiping about it )
Last week went to a cafe along the wharf, and I went to the toilet. Signs
all in Spanish so I took a guess, and went in.

Six pairs of brown MALE eyes looked up at me.????
I said ¨Perdon, no Espanol !! ¨and backed out quick smart.
Terribly funny, for them.
We went to a Tango Club. Naturally. How could you go to Latin America, and not go to a Tango club??
Huge stage, rows and rows of balcony seats, plush red velvet chairs, white linen tableclothes and candelabra... like an old theatre straight out of the 50´s, it was full of Columbians, Mexicans and Brazilians all dressed up in furs and diamonds .. fabulous Tango dancers singers and orchestra.. wonderful food and wine.We just rocked up in our thongs. None of them have a clue where Australia is anyway.

Everyone talks politics here, endlessly.


Went to the Antique markets, and to La Boca, which is like The Cross in Sydney, dangerous at night, beautiful by day.






Tango dancers everywhere in the sun at 9.00 a.m. in the morning, dancing on the cobbled streets.
Visited the famous  Café Tortoni, in Buenos Aires ..one of the most famous cafes in the world, where all the Presidents and all the movie stars  whenever they are in B.A..
Beautiful stained glass ceilings, but I thought the food was only average, and over  priced, and the waiters were a bit snooty., too. Here ,as in Europe, being a waiter is a Profession, and they get a lot of kudos, unlike Australia, where you do it to get cash, whilst you are working your way through Uni.
Argentine men are very nice looking, fair skin, black hair,the women are beautiful.. and the children !!!
I want to take them all home with me.
If you look at Sydney and Buenos Aires on a world map, the line running between them is dead straight.
Maybe that's why we feel so at home here, because both countries are aligned on the map, both down the bottom of the Globe......
I'll never forget these two weeks in beautiful, brave Argentina.

"And when you're life is ended, it won't matter how much money you made,how big your house is,or how many friends you have, the size of your funeral is still going to depend on the weather."

Hola!!

Postcard from Tallubudgera..QLD 2006
Sharon Natasha Alana and Robyn



  Visited Sharon and Paul  Fairhall at Tallubudgera.
and their children (?) Craig,Alana and Ryan, their partners and their children too.
Sharon's Dad, Graham Herbert was also there .

___________
POSTCARD FROM WARRANDYTE,VIC DEC.2009


Flew to Melbourne on Boxing Day....

 Had a great lunch at Lyn Ritchie's in lovely Warrandyte-

Ruth John and Robyn Ritchie

Deb,Ruth,Tash and Lyn





Del in thoughtful mode



Tony dropped in on his way home from Hawaii





 
 










 

Sunday, October 25, 2009

RITCHIE FAMILY HEALTH

A History of the Family Health is  important for our future generations.
The more information they have, and can impart to their Medical Practitioners, the more chance of early detection, something our  family members did not always have the benefit of.

Very few medical or  health  records were  kept in the last century, apart from Births and Death Certificates, so its difficult to trace the health issues of our early ancestors, but in this century cancer has sadly played a large part  in the lives of our immediate family, and statistics show that we have a higher than normal  rate of the disease.
Many discussion have been held within the family as to possible causes , and related factors, and whether or not growing up in country Brodribb River, and later Orbost, had any bearing, due to exposure to chemicals  used on the farm to spray weeds etc. and the common use of super phosphate.
Genetic inheritance was another theory put forward, but there were no medical records to verify that any of our ancestors had cancer.

Of the original Ritchie family of four children, - Alan, Tom, Margeret and Mary who were all  born and raised on the farm at Brodribb River, only one, Tom remained on the farm till the fifties, when he retired to Orbost, and his son Frank ran the farm at Brodribb River, later moving to another farm near Orbost.
Margeret and Mary Ritchie moved from the farm, into Orbost, and later to  Melbourne.
Alan Ritchie moved to a farm in Kilsyth,near Melbourne.

Alan Ritchie contracted testicular cancer in later life after he retired,but  made  a full recovery and  enjoyed longevity well into his nineties.
Alan's eldest son John Ritchie contracted throat cancer many years ago,and with the aid of a voice box, continues to lead a productive life, running his  farm near Melbourne.

Alan's brother Tom's second eldest daughter Jan, who moved from Orbost to Bega in country NSW.to run a Guest House in the late sixties, was diagnozed with leukemia shortly after she retired,and sadly passed away, aged forty -seven years, on 25th August , 1983.
Tom's son Frank, who had run the family farm at Brodribb River,contracted bowel cancer twelve years later, and  sadly passed away, aged fifty -seven years, on 10th December, 1995
Five years years later,Tom's second youngest daughter, Patricia, contracted breast cancer  overcame it, and later contracted throat cancer.
Patricia Ritchie sadly passed away on 9th February, 2005.aged sixty-three years.

It seems incredible that in a family of five siblings, three passed into the next life, within a ten year span, due to the  same disease, manifested in different forms, so sadly and so early, leaving my eldest sister Peg and myself, the only remaining members.
And causes me to wonder what the common denominator could be.
Living in a different geographical area later in life, or just genetics?

Jan Ritchie's daughter, Sharon Fairhall, who was born in Orbost, later lived in Bega NSW, and now resides in Tallubudgera Qld, made a full recovery from breast cancer, in the late eighties.

Her sister Vicki  had a melanoma removed from her arm, and after treatment, made a full recovery.
Frank Ritchie's second eldest daughter, Mandy Richardson was born in Orbost, and still resides on a farm near Orbost, has made a full recovery from breast cancer, after  treatment.
Alan Ritchie's grand-daughter ,and Peter Ritchie's second eldest daughter Lyn, had a melanoma removed from her forehead years ago, and was recently diagnozed with breast cancer.
Lyn  is now recovering ,after under going chemo- and radiotherapy.

Of  twenty-seven  family members, nine contracted cancer, which is exactly one third,  a very  high incidence of the disease.

Sadly, three passed away, the remainder have made, or are making, a full recovery.

ON THEORIES :
One theory could be that some of those who remained in the Orbost area, lost their battle with the disease, and those who moved away to a different  area, successfully fought it off, leading to the conclusion, that something in the Orbost area caused a cancer cluster.

One theory that has been around for a long time, is the "Fight "or "Flight "theory.
Very confronting, especially if you consider: do some people manifest this disease as a form of escape from a life which, for whatever reason has become too hard?
Another theory : is that all  dis-ease starts in the mind, and cancers are caused through long-harboured resentment.
And another:  that all cancers are caused through infection, probably a virile infection.
What do you think ?
Post your comments in the 'comments section ' at the bottom of the Blog, and let's hear your opinions and theories.

__________

"Most people are not aware that certain chemicals and toxins are actually at a much higher level inside our homes," writes Dr. Garrett Widowin in an article on the Healthier Talk website.

But Dr. Widowin balances that disturbing note with two suggestions that can help control the airborne toxins in your home.
"One of the simplest ways to decrease the chemical exposures inside of your home is to remove your shoes.
Think of all the places your feet touch and all the items they come in contact with.??

Pesticides on the ground, oil residues in the road/parking lot, chemicals and germs on a pubic bathroom floor. I don't want my house to be a mixture of all these places.
Another way to improve the air quality in your home is the addition of certain plants.

The National Aeronautics and Space Administration (NASA) has done studies over the past three decades to investigate which plants could help remove toxic chemicals from the air for use in space stations.

The most efficient plants at filtering formaldehyde, benzene, and trichloroethylene are:
Mass cane, Pot mum , Gerbera daisy, Warnecki, Ficus .
"The addition of these plants will improve the home's environment by decreasing toxic exposure for those who live there.
 Any number of these plants in a house will make a difference, yet to make a noticeable difference in a home's air quality I recommend placing at least one plant per room and to include a little variety throughout the home.
Please remember the most important room is your bedroom, so place a couple in there."
Thanks to John Ritchie from Cockatoo, Victoria, for this contribution .
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After reading the Ritchie Family Blog it occurred to me that looking at the records of the Cemetary Trust ,both our familes have been affected with cancer.
Our lot seemed to think it had something to do with the Atomic bomb in South Australia,and the prevailing winds at the time were blowing across to East Gippsland.
I think it was a good move to go somewhere else to live, rather than stay in Orbost.

Thanks to Graham Herbert from Tallubudgera,Queensland, for this contribution.

Thursday, October 8, 2009

RITCHIE FAMILY TREE


Welcome to the first post on the Ritchie Family Blog.I hope you find it interesting, and that it connects you with your extended family, not only here in Australia, but all over the world.
OUR NAME : Scotland was originally called Caledonia,and became known as Scotland in the 11th Century,when the Normans reached Scotland as settlers, not invaders.
They soon blended with the local population, and with the assimilation came change in the form of customs and laws the Normans brought with them.
One major change was the introduction to Scotland of the system of Nobility
The Scottish surname RITCHIE is of Kinship origin. Kinship names derived from family, and as children grew, it was not unusual to refer to them by the name of their parents.

The Scandinavian word ' sen ' Greek 'pulor' Finnish 'nen ' and Spanish 'ez ' all mean 'son '.
The Irish Ó'indicates the name of the Grandfather or earlier ancestor. Here, the surname denotes that the original bearer was a son of Richard 'Richie 'or 'Ritchie ' being a pet name, of this personal name.

'Richard' is ultimately derived from the Old English meaning 'power rich'

Living in the Fiji Islands in the late eighties, I noticed that many Fijians were referred to by their 'surname'or 'family 'name, not their christian or given name.
This is not unlike the Sottish system of naming.
Perhaps it was the same all over the world in the early Centuries, when they couldn't pop down to Office Works and buy a ream of paper, so nothing was recorded.

Prior to the advent of surnames, names in the formative years were generally a given name.
As a result of trade,warfare, economic necessity, and increased migration the population in Scotland grew, and so a more precise method of identification was needed.
Surnames solved this problem for them.
The surname Ritchie has a long, long history in Scotland, and records of this name date back to the 14th Century, when Michael Rechy of Inverness, was noted.
Duncan Riche was a messenger in Perth,Scotland in 1505.
John Riche was the King's Sheriff of Inverness in 1512, and there is mention of the lands of Robert Reche in Glasgow in 1550.

The wife of David Reche in Aberdeen, was fined for brewing ale in 1538,  bless ' her.

That's probably where we all get our liking for the ale from, and where my cousin, Peter Ritchie acquired his fondness from brewing beer in the washing machine at the farm at Kilsyth, Victoria,when he was just a  lad !
William Ritchie founded the 'Scotsman ' newspaper in Edinburgh in 1817, and Alexander Ritchie, ( who we are all directly descended from ) was an artist of great repute in Edinburgh, in the early half of the last century.

My  Grandfather was also named Alexander, and  he that was born on the boat the "West Wind" in the treacherous seas off Cape Horn, off the coast of Africa, in the morning of 1st February 1853, in a howling gale,in an unseaworthy boat, with a drunken Captain, en route from Glasgow, via New York to Port Melbourne.
Full marks to great Grand-Mother Catherine, for Alexanders birth and survival on that dreadful voyage in 1853.
Brave people, and the reason we all exist today, as Alexanders sons ,Alan and Thomas Ritchie ( both deceased )are our Fathers and Grandfathers.
Alexander Ritchie  grew up in the gold fields in Bendigo, Victoria, and other places, and eventually married Hannah, and selected  land in Brodribb River, near Orbost, where he lived  and farmed,till he died.

Alexander never went near the sea again.

A copy of the ticket for the passage on the "West Wind " is in my posession, so although these days its trendy to be convict-descended, the original Ritchies paid their own fare!

THE RITCHIE FAMILY MOTTO IS : 'Virtute acquiritur honos '
Translated means : Virtue acquires Honour.
FAMILY CREST : A Unicorn's head couped ermine horned.
BLAZON OF ARMS : Three lions Heads.

OUR CLAN : MACINTOSH

In  2005, my daughter travelled through  Europe, and settled in a small village called Pitlochry,near Edinburgh in Scotland where she lived and worked for six months.. she loved the Scots!.

A Nephew visited the cemetary in Glasgow, and said it was so full of dead Ritchies, impossible to identify the ancestors.!!

Hope you have enjoyed this short history of the name we bear to this day.

Footnote : A friend from NZ who I met in Sydney forty-four years ago, contacted me via the Net,, and enclosed this photograph taken in 1966.- I was 19 years old.
Have you got any old family photographs?













Unfortunately the Family tree has had to be removed due to issues of Identity theft.


Alexander Ritchie:
Alexander's Parents died early, and he and his brother Thomas were brought up by an Uncle and Aunt who kept a Public House called "The Wellington Inn", in West Kilbridge (Scotland). It is unknown what happened to Thomas - or the other brothers and sister.
A year or so after his marriage to Margaret McCallum in 1846, accompanied by her brother Walter McCallum, and her young sister Elizabeth McCallum, they left Scotland and went to North America , and settled near New York.
After three or four years they left America for Australia (Port Phillip) on a Steam
Ship of approximately 350 ton, called the "West Wind". They were once again accompanied by the McCallum's, Walter (and family) and Elizabeth.

The vessel the  "West Wind", arrived at Melbourne on the 28th of April 1853. At this time Robert Alexander, who was born on 1st February 1853, during the voyage, would have been a babe in arms at around three months of age, the two surviving daughters would have been 3yrs (Catherine) and 6yrs (Mary).
The family movements around Melbourne are unknown, but their stay was short, the family  then moved onto the Gold Fields around Bendigo in May 1854, when their fifth child Elizabeth, was born.
The rest of the cildren were born around Axedale or Axe Creek, near Bendigo.



 Robert Alexander Ritchie, was born 1 February 1853, on board the "West Wind " as it rounded the Cape of Good Hope - died 21 June 1940 in Orbost, Vic.

The East Gippsland  family are directly descended from Robert Alexander.