Timor mortis conturbat nos…

In our 80s, such such are the joys….

The Class of 1959 are still sharing via email, and finding that where we are on our life journeys is inescapable, amidst all the memories. Clive Kessler puts it beautifully.

Here are just a few samples of our talk, in these days spanning continents but spiralling back to that long-ago yet so near time when we lifted up our voices with the generations before and to come: “Come rally round, boys, young and old….”

The news of Ted Oliver’s passing (Class of 1959) came as I was preparing yesterday’s post. I replied to Clive Kessler who had sent the news: “Oh my! timor mortis conturbat me. Mais où sont les neiges d’antan?” Clive answered:

THE NEIGES D’ANTAN HAVE NOW FLOWED INTO THE GREAT OCEAN OF ETERNITY, OF ENDURING EXISTENCE [OF SOMETHING] .. .. C.

Here is the medieval ballad: “Where are the snows of yesteryear?”

BALLADE DES DAMES DU TEMPS JADIS Dictes-moy où, n’en quel pays, Est Flora, la belle Romaine ; Archipiade, ne Thaïs, Qui fut sa cousine germaine ; Echo, parlant quand bruyt on maine Dessus rivière ou sus estan, Qui beauté eut trop plus qu’humaine ? Mais où sont les neiges d’antan ! Où est la très sage Heloïs, Pour qui fut chastré et puis moyne Pierre Esbaillart à Sainct-Denys ? Pour son amour eut cest essoyne. Semblablement, où est la royne Qui commanda que Buridan Fust jetté en ung sac en Seine ? Mais où sont les neiges d’antan ! La royne Blanche comme ung lys, Qui chantoit à voix de sereine ; Berthe au grand pied, Bietris, Allys ; Harembourges, qui tint le Mayne, Et Jehanne, la bonne Lorraine, Qu’Anglois bruslèrent à Rouen ; Où sont-ilz, Vierge souveraine ?… Mais où sont les neiges d’antan ! ENVOI Prince, n’enquerez de sepmaine Où elles sont, ne de cest an, Qu’à ce refrain ne vous remaine : Mais où sont les neiges d’antan ! — François Villon, 1458-9

There was a long discussion prompted by Herbert Huppert about whether high intelligence equated with later life achievements. Herbert had wondered whether Ted Oliver fulfilled his early promise. This was a question, not a condemnation I hasten to add. Our School Captain from 1959, Wayne Young, reacted strongly. More modestly I said “Perhaps he was happy”…. Clive Kessler wrote that some flame out early, but that success in life can’t so easily be measured. I went on:

I taught the whole range over the years – IQs from amazing to too low to assess, according to the school’s record cards. Over the years from 1966-2005 (my active years) the mean IQ drifted upwards… That is, 100 in 1966 was not the same as 100 in 2005. When my parents decided in 1954 that I should not go to Sydney High as I was not responsible enough to travel the distance, Eddie O’Neill [my then teacher] came to my home and pleaded with my parents to let me go as, he said, I had the highest IQ ever recorded at Sutherland Public School! (Which may not be as impressive as it sounds!) Obviously he won that argument.  Around ten years into my teaching career I no longer even looked at record cards or IQs… I taught, as far as I was able, the person in front of me. 

One of my greatest triumphs in teaching was at Dapto High in 1970 when I got TLA (too low to assess) Peter Abbott (yes, as in Peter Rabbit, poor kid) to write his own name…. And he was 14.

Even better in its own way than the class of 1968 at Cronulla High where from one class emerged two eminent specialists at Royal Prince Alfred Hospital. Yes, I revisited members of that class  in Cronulla in 2011. A delight. 

And of course in my years at SBHS I encountered some pretty formidable kids. One Federal Court judge from the class of 1986 is also now a friend on Facebook.

So all in all I take your point, Clive, except to acknowledge that among our lot yours has been a stellar career, and I am still benefiting from your published work on Israel and Palestine, which I find very apt and wise today.

Neil W

From David Sweeting

CHS winners
Back row: G Buggie, R King, M Johnson, A Skinner, I Toll, R Scouller, G Cohen
Second row: P Tzannes, G Ryan, Mr F R Fielding, I Scott (Captain), Mr L A Basser, R Evers, R Dye
Front row: K Owens, D Sweeting

And an email from a stranger:

I knew that at one time that an Edward “Eddie” Oliver was the head of the school of Economics at Macquarie Uni.

His field was in statistics.

He was also a train fanatic who was sought for counsel by government in matters of transport.

I would like to know if the Edward Oliver who passed away and is mentioned in your blog post is the same Edward Oliver who also was an academic at Macquarie Uni.

I told Harry G that Eric Sowey and I celebrated the end of our Sydney High experience in a rather odd way, by (unsuccessfully) visiting Roger Dye’s home in Lugarno. Unsuccessfully, because Roger was not at home!

That isn’t Eric and I, but it is the ferry….

Eric was just visiting Jannali. Yes, he lived in Kensington, but he, Brian Hennell, Philip Selden, Roger Dye, and until he went to London Ashok Hegde used to visit one or other of our places in the school holidays or weekends. At Roger’s place we would row on the river, and when they came to my place (Kirrawee to 1958, Jannali 1959) we often went hiking — and that’s what Eric and I did at the end of 59. Jannali to Woronora, then through Menai, crossed the river by the old car ferry, then Roger’s place on Moons Avenue Lugarno. A long walk on a hot day. Mrs Dye gave us food and drink, we caught the bus to Hurstville, and came back to Jannali by train.

I see I blogged about this earlier! But then we octogenarians often repeat our memory tales. And at the end of that earlier post came this song, one of my all-time favourites! It ties in well with the email from Clive at the head of this post that I will repost it here. I am sure many a 1959 classmate will find a personal connection in it. 65 years after all is virtually a lifetime!