Ripper Harry Bernice. Ripper Harry Bernice.
C1950’s –
Written by Anne Oades (nee Ripper)
Heading out of Nyabing town site, past the recreation precinct, the road will pass a property to the right once known as “Kurrajong”. This was the home of the Ripper Family. Set on a driveway bordered by sugar gums, a red roofed mud brick homestead (now removed) was the much loved dwelling of a war service land settlement farmer, originally from the Doodlakine area.
Harry and Bernice Ripper arrived in the early 1950s, with little more than the basic implements to begin a farming life. As was a common story from these times, Harry was the second son, denied the rewards owed to him of working his father’s property since the age of 14. He was now starting anew, after five years in the service of his country, at the age of 35 in this new district very foreign to him.
Bernice was expecting Eric, who arrived in 1951, closely followed by Anne, Bill and Frank. As children, we grew up with very few family supports, in a community where everyone else appeared to be related. It was a good life, however, and our parents instilled in us values of education, of determination, of hard work and of treating everyone as we would want to be treated.
Our mother Bernice was a triple certificated nursing sister, and often took on the role of a “Bush Nurse”. Katanning based Dr Christie and Dr Jones often sent members of the Nyabing community to her for wound dressings, injections and other treatments. She treated this role with diligence, reverence and, we were always told as children, that we must not interrupt her at these times.
Like other farms, our farm was a cereal and sheep property, small in today’s language, being just over 2000 acres (810ha). My father appreciated the value of vegetation, and was probably one of the few who realised the growing problem of salinity. We had a crown reserve at the bottom of the house paddock. Jack Quiss, who had maintained the rabbit-proof fence forming part of our farm boundary, had a dwelling there for some time. Bill Batt used to also love this area, and he took us under his wing. A prized possession of Anne’s was a quandong necklace he made for her.
As our farm was close to the town, our dams were often frequented by the “townies”. Our father, being a tolerant man, endured this although he did object when they stole his precious mushrooms! We also had the privilege of being picked up last on the way to school and dropped off first on the way home as the bus always went in one direction on its route.
There was also a Noongar burial site on this land and as children, bred on English fairy tales, we did imagine that also sorts of treasures were also buried there. We have wonderful memories of our farm; the pungent smell of mushrooms cooking, of donkey and spider orchids, of shooting crows intent on stealing eggs, of chasing sheep and caring for orphaned lambs, of sitting room fires, of books and music.
Our memories of the Nyabing community are as individual as we are. We recall the dances at Nyabing, where our father, was known as a superb dancer. Not that we really knew. We were banished to sleep in the car parked under the gum tree in front of the hall; as was the habit of those innocent times! There were some wonderful families in Nyabing; and we spent time with the Jury’s, Goodchild’s, Manuals, Patterson’s, Quartermaine’s, Thompson’s, Schneider’s, Gilbert’s, the Foxall’s and many others.
We have memories, too, of the Nyabing show, where we were given our first new outfit of the year to wear. We were instructed by our mother to enter into the handwriting competition which we often won, as few others entered, but it provided us with our show money to spend. Our current work colleagues would be amazed to learn of this skill, given the obvious deterioration of this quality owing to computers!!
We all have memories of the school; of the red and blue factions, of the morning assemblies where we sang “God save the Queen” of Mr Varnivides and Mr Hamill, of stunning Miss Townton who our little brother adored, and Ms Hinds who improved our sister’s handwriting by numerous smacks across her knuckles with a ruler in year one.
Later our farm was acquired by the Crosby’s. They also acquired our neighbour’s the Foxall’s property, amongst others, which made sense in the current economic climate. We are always grateful, that when we sought a sentimental peek, that the Crosby’s gave us that privilege.
Nyabing is a resilient community. It is with a sense of pride that we acknowledge this was the community that grew us up. It is wonderful to see newer family names become part of Nyabing’s history. Our Ripper family wish the members of the Nyabing community the very best in this centenary year.
Would anyone have any photographs of the Ripper family that they could share on Lost Nyabing?
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