THE GREATEST LOVE STORY NEVER TOLD.

After last week’s venting this weekend’s Posts will be a “Rupert free zone”. Instead I have written about: “The Greatest Love Story Never Told” and over Easter I will add: “A 1973 Bad Beat”, “A True Easter Miracle” and “When The Planets Alligned”. It’s Holidays so you’ll have plenty of time to read them.😀

My very existence was determined by a chance encounter at the Bendigo Easter Procession on April 22nd, 1946. What about the crowd shown in attendance that day. Everyone in Bendigo seems to be out celebrating the first Easter in 6 years that included the young men that survived being sent off to War.

Growing up, there was always an untouchable subject for dinner time discussions and that was the date of Mum and Dad’s Wedding. Their stock answer to any questions was “I can’t remember the date”. It was only when I needed to lodge my Birth Certificate to obtain my first Passport in 1979 that I thought I knew the reason for their forgetfulness. The Certificate showed that they Married on September 12th, 1947. My wonderful Brother Johnny was born in 1940 so mystery solved, right? They were simply embarrassed! How wrong I was. There is a Heroine and Hero in this Story, one is my Mum and one is my Dad.

Mum fell pregnant with my Brother (and he was always my brother, never my half brother) in May of 1939. The Sperm Donor (he never earned the right to be called Johnny’s Father) was best mates with Mum’s brother Roy and honestly his name is irrelevant but from the day Johnny was born, The Sperm Donor had absolutely nothing to do with Mum or her Baby. On February 11, 1940 Mum became a 17 year old single mother. The Country was at war and the pressure on unmarried mothers to surrender their baby for adoption the minute they were born was immense. Mum and her parents refused to hand Johnny over and instead took him home, showered him with love, and gave him a stable home. Around 1942, Mum is now a 20yo single mum living with her parents and desperate to give Johnny a Dad, she decides to accept a marriage proposal from a soldier home on leave in Shepparton. Once again, his name is unimportant but for the purpose of this story let’s call him what he was, Wife Beater. In a very short period of time my Pop, the winner of the Military Medal for Bravery in WW1, had denied him access to the family home and the marriage was either annulled or Mum obtained a divorce. We aren’t sure of this detail. As a divorcee and a single mum, Mum now had 2 strikes against her and I can only assume she wasn’t a great judge of character. On Easter Monday, Mum and a six year old Johnny set off early from their home in Bridge Street to obtain a vantage point where Johnny could get a good view of all the floats, marching bands and of course, the World renowned Chinese Dragon, Loong.

And now for the hero of this tale, my Dad. Dad enlisted for the Army in 1939 and served in multiple theatres of war before returning to Bendigo by January of 1946. When he went off to War, Dad had a girl friend named Dot. At some stage when Dad was overseas, his younger brother “cut his lunch” and married Dot. Voltaire is credited with saying “To the living we owe respect, but to the dead we owe only the truth”, so sorry Uncle Les, but thank Christ you took that “Dot” bullet for us. Mum was world class at carrying a grudge and I never understood why Auntie Dot was off her Christmas Card List, but after learning the “girl friend” tale, I now know why. Dad had known Mum socially prior to heading off to War but they were never romantically involved. After all, Dad had a girl friend and he was strictly a “one dog, one bone” man. Dad has a “Drunk and Disorderly” charge on his Military Service Record and I like to think he hit the town hard and got smashed (preferably somewhere exotic like Beirut or Cairo or Damascus) when the literal “Dear John” letter arrived from his old girlfriend. So during April of 1946, Dad was enjoying his first Easter at home in 7 years and he was footloose and fancy free. He’d just found full time employment and he headed off to the Easter Procession for a big day out with his mates.

After the Procession was completed, Mum was walking around the Easter Fair stalls taking in all the excitement and atmosphere of the Fair with Johnny, when a handsome, returned soldier snuck up behind her and put her hand in his. For the next 45 years, up until his passing on March 11th 1991, he kept hold of Mum’s hand and never let go. They married in 1947 and Dad adopted Johnny and he was an Edwards. They lived with Mum’s parents in Kennedy Street until 1959 when they bought a brand new home in Fox Street, Bendigo with a War Service Loan. They had a sign made and affixed it to the chimney out the front of our home. The sign simply said “Orana”. It is the original Australian’s word for “Welcome” and from the day they took possession of our new home, everyone was welcome to visit, any time, day or night.

For a few years the three Edwards Brothers (I like to think we were known as “The Fox Street Boys” but we actually weren’t😄) shared a bedroom with Johnny in the single bed and Barry and myself in a bunk bed. I think Johnny eventually got sick of Barry’s farting and snoring🤣 and my Brother moved out in 1964 marrying, ironically, the beautiful Dorothy (and believe me, this Dot was a ripper) and she remains my Sister to this day.

All the details of this wonderful love story were kept from me until approximately one hour before Dad passed away. As Mum and I sat at Dad’s Hospital bedside, she completely unexpectedly started opening up about Johnny and how she came to enjoy a lifetime of happiness with Dad. Most the above details were derived on that afternoon with extra information eventually confirmed by Mum’s sister Marion around 20o4. Mum confirmed that Dad and her sat down with Johnny when he was about 16 and they told him everything about their history and gave Johnny the chance to know the name of the Sperm Donor and his reply fills my heart with joy. He said “I know who my Dad is and that’s you”. Still makes me emotional today. I’m pretty sure most of us were unplanned pregnancies and we never really knew whether we were wanted or just accepted as a part of normal, growing Family. Johnny knew from his discussion with Mum and Dad that he was unconditionally wanted by his Family from the time Dad took Mum’s hand all those years ago. That’s pretty cool I think.

Dad seemed completely at peace as Mum revealed our Family history and I’m absolutely certain that a burden was lifted off Mum as she spoke to me and that it really helped her cope with Dad’s death. The Nurse told us that we should probably take a break for a little while and I was in the car with Mum and Dad’s younger Sister, Jean, when the Hospital called on my car phone (this was 1991 and my car phone cost somewhere near $5000!) to let us know Dad had slipped away peacefully. Is it possible he was able to let go knowing that Mum had opened up to me? I honestly have no idea but I do know exactly what the last thing I said to him was. I kissed him on the forehead and thanked him for giving me two wonderful Brothers and I thanked him on behalf of Johnny and Barry for the lives he’d given us.

I referred earlier to the imaginary Fox Street Boys and I’d like to conclude this Love Story with a recollection from when this “Band Of Brothers” took on an entire baseball team during the 1970 Queens Birthday VPBL baseball championships in Traralgon. I was a 16 year old playing third base for Bendigo, Johnny was a 30 year old playing right field and Barry was a 23 year old short stop. The three of us had very different personalities: Johnny preferred a fight to a feed, Barry was one of the most annoying people I ever played with constantly sniping at Umpires and the opposition (I once saw the Coach of our Bendigo Club Team, Falcons, drag him off the field and play with 8 players when Barry sulked after playing tunnel ball with a grounder and then refusing to chase it) and as for me, I was all about the game😇. At some stage of the Sunday afternoon game someone slid into Barry with his cleats up and it was on. I think the 30 year old right fielder was buggered after sprinting all the way to second base and he was no where near his pugilistic best but I was first there and ready to go. I’m not sure if the Fox Street Boys actually did put a beat down on everyone from the opposition Team but I like to think we did. What I know for certain is that we brothers had a tighter bond than ever after that game. Barry actually won the MVP for the Championships that year (can’t believe I didn’t win it!) and we won the Grand Final Game comfortably so a rollicking good time was had by all.

It was important to me that I get this part of our Family history down for all my extended Family and future generations. Thank you if you’ve made it to the end. I truly appreciate it. RIP Johnny Edwards and John Edwards, my Brother and my Father. You were two of the very best. ❤️⭕️❌

John Edwards, born October 27th, 1921, died March 11th, 1991. Elva Mary Edwards, born October 14th, 1922, died November 10th, 2016. Love and miss you both.❤️⭕️❌

1. 

   Duck story had me on the floor!

2. 

   Lovely tales as always Russ. We have recently got a new Dachshund puppy, as I lost my beautiful Steffi in…

3. 

   Hi Russ More wonderful stories and I will look up Rough Diamonds. You and Mark Twain hang in there! With…

4. 

   Hey mate love the blog,keep being tuff as I know you will. Sent from my iPhone

5. 

   Bless you Russ. Reading your wonderful blog, I spend half of my time laughing and half crying. Perhaps you should…