Robert Curran

Story

This is essentially my father\’s story, but of course that means that it is also a large part of my mother\’s story, my own story and the stories of my two brothers. It will remain a thread woven through the stories of our children and those of the generations to come.

Dad was born in Lurgan, Northern Ireland, on the 4th of October 1920, the first of 7 children born to William and Annie Curran. The 5 sons survived. The 2 daughters died as infants. Dad would describe a poor, though not unhappy, childhood. He loved to tell tales of kicking a soccer ball made from newspaper, and walking to school in the snow without shoes. Dad\’s father, my Grandad, was seriously injured whilst fighting during World War 1. He rarely worked and it was up to Granny to support the family.

Dad left school at the age of 13 and began work as a delivery boy. He soon realised that he had little hope of a prosperous future in Northern Ireland and that the best thing for him to do was to seek an opportunity to leave. The Royal Air Force and subsequent outbreak of World War 2 presented that opportunity. Dad was accompanied by his father when he walked into town to enlist on the 19th of October, 1938. His father placed a hand on his shoulder. ‘Bobby’, he said, ‘You don\’t have to do this’. ‘Yes I do Da’, Dad replied, ‘There\’s no future for me here’. His father cried as he saw Dad off on his way to England.

Dad travelled extensively during his time in the RAF and the countries he visited whetted his appetite for foreign lands and new experiences. The seed was sown for the dream of a new life in Australia. He remained in the Air Force until the 20th of June, 1949. Meanwhile his brother Albert had immigrated to Australia and was living in Brisbane with his wife Agnes. Dad needed no encouragement to join them. There is a simple entry in his diary. It reads Ð ‘Left England for Australia Aug. 17, 1949. Arrived in Fremantle 12 Sept. Perth, Adelaide, Melbourne, Sydney, now in Brisbane’. Thus began a new life in ‘The Lucky Country’.

Dad\’s reunion with Albert involved more than the occasional beer and Agnes finally tired of this. She suggested that Dad go over to Western Australia to seek work. A passage was booked on the ‘Mooltan’ in August 1951. When the’Mooltan’ docked in Sydney Pauline Ellison embarked, on her way to London. Dad caught a glimpse of her and fell instantly in love. He proposed four days later, Pauline accepted, and when the ship docked in Fremantle the couple disembarked and lay in Kings Park to discuss their future. Pauline continued on to London, they wrote regularly, and Dad joined her in December. They married on the 22nd of that month and returned to Australia in September 1952.

Australia offered this young immigrant boundless opportunity not afforded him in the place of his birth and he was prepared to work extremely hard to fulfil his dreams of home ownership and a happy family life. He worked in hotels, on building sites, in factories Ð wherever he could.

I never once heard Dad say anything negative about Australia. He loved his new homeland far more than his birthplace. He loved the climate, the space, the outdoors, the beaches, the lifestyle, the sport and the promise of rewards for hard work. He never took for granted having regular employment and enough to eat. He became a citizen on the 23rd of May, 1974. Once asked if he missed Northern Ireland he replied ‘What? No!! You can pull the plug on the place and let it sink’!

A few months before he died Dad turned to me and said ‘I\’m blessed really. I\’ve got your mother and I love her, I\’ve got you three children, and I\’ve got my eight grandchildren. I\’ve got everything in life I\’ve ever wanted’.

There is an interesting postscript to this story. Fifty-six years after this young British man arrived in his new homeland one of his grandsons, my eldest son, decided to go and live and work in Britain. On his first night in Edinburgh, Scotland, he sat down to his evening meal in a youth hostel and looked up to see a young Australian woman. They say that history repeats itself, and in the case of our family that certainly is true. My son married that young woman in October 2008. At the time of writing this story my youngest son lives and works in England.

Thank you to all of those from so many nations who have contributed so much to make Australia the rich, diverse and tolerant society it is today. Thanks to you especially Dad for having the courage and foresight to leave your birthplace and seek a better life in this wonderful land of opportunity. Thanks also to you Mum for bravely joining Dad on this great adventure.

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