THE CHATSBURY HOTEL
A recent visitor to the village was Katherine Tyrrell. Katherine is a descendant of Mrs Margaret Martin who was the first licensee of the Chatsbury Hotel in 1875. The hotel was sold to the Gordon family in 1907.
Bob and Lil Gordon moved the licence to Goulburn in 1928 and conducted the business as the Gordon Hotel but the Post Office remained at Chatsbury until 1966.
On the death of her mother, Lil, Jean Bowerman ran the hotel until her death and it was sold on February 18, 1992.
IT’S A BOY
Kimberly and Sam Conlon are the proud parents of Joel Edward who arrived on October 3.
Joel is a brother for Leah and a grand daughter of Bill and Tess Hedley and Ross and Margaret Conlon. Proud great grandparents are Russell and Mary Chalker and Bill and Rowena Hedley.
A SUCCESSFUL SALE
A number of Taralga residents attended the sale of Lach River Merino Stud last Wednesday.
The stud owner, Richard Chalker, was pleased with the 100 percent clearance of 60 rams.
The top price was $15,000 while the average was $1.840.
Austen Mooney has a knack of finding interesting information in unusual places. This extract was in the 1896 Kalgoorlie Western Argus:
“William Russell, the chief of the Gun-dun-gurra aboriginals of the Burragorang Valley, who died recently in Camden, at the age of 84, supplied to Councillor A. L. Bennett several interesting facts, which were published in pamphlet form for the benefit of the chief: My earliest recollections are of my mother, “Wonduck” named after the place where she was born, near Richlands which was the custom of my tribe. Wonduck’s husband was named Muroon, which is the name of the wild cucumber vine bearing oblong berries called, Moombir.
“My uncle was My-an-garlie, wrongly called “Mullungully” by whites. My-an-garlie was the aboriginal name of a locality known as Connor’s Plains near Bathurst. My uncle became principal man of our tribe about fifty years ago, his chief camping ground being in the Burragorang Valley.
“I can remember my mother carrying me on her back cuddled down in a fold of her possum rug, folded across her shoulders. I felt quite safe and comfortable as any young burru (kangaroo), in his mother’s pouch.
“Many times when travelling and I was crying for a drink, she would, when near water, quench my thirst by filling her mouth at the stream and then giving it to me from her mouth to mine.”