Grandson Of Former Lake Wyangan Resident Pens Song

Martin Gellately’s maternal grandfather Dick Passey was born in 1897 and, as a result of illness, led quite a sheltered younger life.

“He came to the Griffith region in the early 1920s having spent several years in France during World War I,” Mr Gellately said.

“He met and married Mabel and they went on to have five children - Dick (now deceased), Dorothy, Mary, Anne (also deceased) and Sheila (my mother).”

The Passey family lived on Farm 1871 Lake Wyangan Road.

Although Dick had almost no previous agricultural experience, the farm went well in the early years but being on slightly lower ground than its neighbours, the soil began to get poisoned by salt as a result of vigorous irrigation.

After the fall of Singapore, Dick re-enlisted in the Australian Army and served as a stretcher bearer in New Guinea.

His nickname there was Pop because he was so much older than his comrades.

Genuinely disappointed to not be able to make a go of the farm, Dick regretfully sold most of the land, but retained the farmhouse.

“It must’ve been a boisterous place at times with five children, but my mum, Sheila, has wonderful childhood memories,” Mr Gellately said.

“Dick died in 1965 of heart failure after a car accident.

“I would very much have liked to have known him.”

In memory of his grandfather, and in time for Lake Wyangan Public School’s centenary, Mr Gellately has penned a song titled Lake Wyangan Road.

Lake Wyangan Road. (by Martin Gellately)

The boys are back, Home from the war
And nothings changed , nothings the same
As it was before.
Pacific blue on troopship grey
And the mud, thank God of France
Left far away.

No bridge back then, Semi-circular Quay
With crowds who came to cheer
Then turned away.
Not much work for damaged men
Who have killed and wounded in their
Country’s name.

But have you heard? Not far away
Acres of land being given away.
So take your pick and have a go
Take your chances out on Lake Wyangan Road.

So you build a house to make a home and pretty soon you’re not alone.
As kids arrive and memories fade
There are some that you’ll take to the grave.

Dad works hard back at the farm
Children grow and need to learn
To read and write the golden rules
So they built Lake Wyangan public school.

Unlock your door, throwaway the key
And say that you will come away with me.
Unlock your door, we’ll fly away and we’ll
Learn to live the Lake Wyangan way.

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