Whoa! Dreams do come true – we are turning into the doggy prison – there is a God of the Knapsacks after all. Now, we’re ready for some serious travelling – let’s go!
Wearily I peep out of my sleepy eyelets and become immersed in the rolling green duvet dotted with golden swatches of canola. The rock and roll of the car lulls me back to sleep as the scenery blends into a virtual blur.
Voices, doors slamming and I am startled into the moment – “here over here – here I am! Hey pay attention – look I carried her books, I assised in the research of this book, the midnight visitations and ancestral conversations – I’ve seen and heard it all. The ethereal urging of a tale that must be told – its all here in my sleepy folds – it was me can’t you see – I was there I did it and now I should have the fame and glory. What is wrong with people these days?
Mistress’s family greet with a multitude of hugs and kisses. Tony and Karen welcomed us into an extension of their huge hearts. Baker’s Swamp is the place to be – it’s a happening locale.
Early Sunday morning I’m woken by the tiny hands of my Mistress exploring my pockets fumbling for her journal. She is relentless – her writing is an obsession. I guess it’s not a bad obsession when you think about alternatives. I know one thing for certain her passion and dedication is unfathomable.
Breakfast and verbal navigations to the Burrendong Dam are delivered in short bursts and unfinished sentences. Everyone climbs into the vehicles and we are off to bring the climatic finale of the Baker’s story.
It is the 22nd June 2008 and we arrive at the Dam. A rock has been chosen (on our previous trip) and a brass plaque engraved. The inscription honours those who perished in the flood of 1867. This memorial is a statue of remembrance for those family members who lost their lives. A family almost obliterated from the face of the earth – it was if they didn’t exist – until today. The book launch and dedication will make sure that they are remembered on this cold and sombre day.
A death chill rolls up from the Lake. In a stark reminder of the Baker’s Flood it is suspected that the Dam has claimed another life in the same spot as the cabin once stood. In a macabre and fated event another life has been taken – a young man is missing after his boat capsized while fishing with his mates last night.
The solemn start to the launch is surpassed by the gathering of the Baker ancestors. Various interested neighbours and folk from the region have gathered to hear the tale of the Baker’s story. Natalie Holmes, reporter for the Daily Liberal is a vivacious and curious young professional reporter. She is sensitive and interested in the tragic tale.
Eris Thorpe capitalised on a local TV reporter and clinched a live interview for the launch. My straps burst with pride as I watch my shy Mistress taut the legacy of her family right on cue. She revealed her desire to bring their story to a respectful and honourable conclusion and did not forget to mention her great great grandmother Cecelia Baker as a spiritual beacon.
After the interview Mistress spoke with deliberate respect and devotion of the spirit of Cecelia. Here is an excerpt from her speech:
Good morning and welcome,
Thank you, Eris and the Burrendong Trust for allowing us to erect this Memorial in the State Park. I would also like to thank and give respect to the original owners of the land.
The purpose of this gathering is to dedicate this plaque to the memory of those who perished in the flood of June 22nd 1867. One that night a woman –a mother, died along with her seven babes. A neighbour, Mr. Frederick Smith paid the ultimate price in the name of mateship. Fred died along with the Bakers in a selfless act of friendship.
While we honour the ones who perished, I would also like to remember the ones who lived. How difficult was it for them to continue to live on the 23rd June and the days, weeks and months thereafter. Some people say that the spirits of our ancestors shape our lives. That they inspire us to survive, thrive and make a difference each day of our lives. I’m inclined to agree.
I often think about Cecelia Baker who at the age of 15 nursed her baby sister in her arms until she realised that the frozen body was lifeless and released her into to the surging tide. With her broken heart and tormented soul she moved from the roof of the shack toward her own watery demise. From all accounts she could not swim, I am positive that she too considered her own death. Fortunately, she did not succumb instead thrust her head above the raging flood waters and somehow propelled her in the direction of the nearest tree.
In the midst of the torrential rain and darkness a hand reached down and grabbed her – her brother was the rescuer. She climbed the tree and joined her father, Daniel and the three lone survivors clung like drenched cockatoos to that limb.
In the early hours of 23rd June, Mrs. Smith paddled a makeshift canoe through the devastation of the flood. In the distance she heard the pathetic cries for help as they responded to her coo-ee. She followed the ghostly sounds looking for her husband, Fred. Sadly, Fred was lost in the calamity of the Baker Flood.
If Cecelia did not persist that night, if she hadn’t pushed herself above the water – well I wouldn’t be here and neither would some of you!
Today is about acknowledging the lives lost but I’d also like to suggest that is it s celebration of friendship, survival and most of all, life.
I would like to thank my parents, Betty and Jim Ashton, my husband, Roger Sayers and his love, support and ongoing dedication to my dreams. I would also like to thank my Green Back Pack who is the star of the show! (Just kidding thought I would add that just for fun ).
May you all enjoy the spirit of Cecelia and live each day with passion and determination.
Thank you,
Julia Ashton-Sayers
See I told you, she was pretty amazing. I am so proud my eyelets are drizzling with moisture. Oups sorry that is a sprinkling of rain. Does this mean we’ve brought rain to the dry and dusty drought stricken country – it’s a miracle! I wonder, has the sadness of the day reflected in the sky? This region was once a thriving community – sheep grazed down yonder and now ski boats and fishermen float in hope of the ultimate ride or the best catch of the day.
Look, who is that? My Mistress walks over to the ramp to greet them – in their ethereal state they stroll up the ramp to thank her for the dedication today. Mary Ann Baker carrying her baby on her hip – her baby daughter only 8 months old when she died closely followed by her boys – Henry, Andrew, Charles, John Isaac, Thomas Edwin and even Mr. Smith. Rubbing my eyelets I can see one more figure – he gently pushes past his brood and walks toward my Mistress. A wide smile broad with contentment, it’s Daniel Isaac Baker. He must found and connect with his family in the after life.
Well I’ll be a green back pack – oh my goodness – well sew my seams and call me greenie – it’s Cecelia (and how could you miss her with all that flaming red hair?) And look yonder, it is George Moses is just off to the left of his family gathering hoping not to be noticed. Is that a smile I see – yes, I do believe it is – it’s a wry smile from George Moses – how brilliant is that? The best part of is that they’ve come back together to give thanks for the launch. Their story is out there for us to enjoy, listen to and be told.
The Baker’s gather around my Goddess of the Spirit World; she is surrounded by love, joy, respect and admiration. She has heard their whispers, enchanted by their story and with the devotion of her husband, Roger, published an e-book (let’s not destroy any more forests).
This journey began with a phone call to announce an impending birth. The first great grandchild of Beatrice and James Ashton was on his way into the world. This call became the corridor of esoteric conversations and many hours of dedication writing, talking, researching, editing and finally publishing and eco-friendly record of a family’s existence and their eventual obliteration from this world. The lives lost on the night of the 22 June 1867 have not only been remembered and revered they have been recorded for eternity. This story along with their spirit will live on – what a gift to us all?
The family melt into the mist of the morning. An echo whispers up from the Lake – if you build it they will come. This is the confirmation of the constant chant revolving around and around throughout the duration of this journey. Many times when Mistress was collaborating with TB Jackson through the recording of this story, they would hear this phrase over and over, “if you build it they will come!” Now with the realisation that the memorial stands proudly on the point adjacent to their cabin was the focus of the message – don’t you agree? I suppose it goes to prove if you listen and act on the prompts of the messages you dreams will become real.
People mingle around the rock and the atmosphere becomes electric. Interested attendees lobby for a copy of the eBook and mistress writes a personal message and signs them one by one. I look at her and my heart skips a beat as she listens to their personal testament to the connection of the Baker Flood.
Scrap books on bonnets and local historians share the preamble to the connection to the region. Already I can see how the memorial is working its magic – if you build it they will come!
Sadness folds over my flaps as I gaze at Pa. He is frail and leaned over sitting along in a fold up chair. His sheer Arian determination has brought him to the launch but I can feel that the years are catching up and he wont’ be with us for much longer.
Mistress connects with him too – she shields him from the cold – she is going to miss him so much when he finds it too painful to go on.
People pour back into their vehicles redy for the return home. Mistress has decided to stay the night and absorb the energy of the land. The Ancients are calling her and I have a strong suspicion that her connection to Baker’s Swamp is not over. I’m told that she will return again and again and one day establishes her creative legacy. So, watch this space as the adventure continues,
Your mate,
Greenie
Memorial Dedication and Book Launch
"The Baker Flood"
22nd June 2008
At Burrandong State Park
10am
The roots of the family tree run deep. Julia Ashton-Sayers and TB Jackson have written this book based on actual events of the -
"Tale of Terror" (Bathurst Times - July 10, 1867)
"Of all the appalling calamities that have been produced by the recent floods, that which befell the BAKER family, at Burrandong, forms the most heart rendering picture of humane misery and suffering. The story sends the blood with a shuddering chill to the heart and chokes expression by the depth of emotion it creates. Oh! The misery of the dreadful night"
The Green Back Adventures are told from the perspective of my Green Back Pack. I therefore take no responsibility if he offends or is politically incorrect at times. He means well but he can't keep his flap shut and is not blessed with a social filter.
ReplyDeleteI hope you enjoy his adventures - we will keep you posted.
Peace and Love,