PHOTOS:

1. Mr Lacey and the class of 1961
Back row: Peter Lacey, Robert Fielding, Maurice Cecil, Ian Kirby, Robert McCallister, Geoffrey Kirby
Middle Row: David Lacey, Chris Lacey, Maurice Weeks, Susan Weeks, Helen Cecil, Graeme Kirby, Rodney Ross
Front Row: Colleen O'Brien, Sally Ross, Margaret Farley, Maureen Fielding, Linda Tranter, Kerry Lacey

2. The school celebrates its 75th anniversary in 1973 (L to R) Bob Spurway, John Suter (original pupil) and Mr Lacey

TALES FROM BILAMBIL

THE MINE SHAFT
In the late 50’s, the teacher and his four year old were crossing the paddock from the residence to the Ross’ house. The toddler was having a high old time jumping onto inviting clumps of paspalum when he suddenly disappeared from sight. He had fallen 8 or 10 feet down an abandoned mine shaft. Although shocked and badly shaken, he was still able to sheet the blame home onto to his father by asking, “Why did you let my hand go, Daddy?” Why indeed! His father was too busy panicking and yelling for assistance to defend himself.
Mrs Ross heard the bellowing and within a short space of time, half of Bilambil’s male population was there. Minutes later, the lad was back on the surface thanks to the late Hec Ross who was about 11. Hector per courtesy of Bob Spurway received a nice write up in the Tweed Daily ... one which he richly deserved. However, Hector had other ideas. Years later when we were at the 19th hole, Hec said “You know that hero stuff about rescuing Chris? Well, that was a lot of rot. I was standing there looking down the hole and wondering how they were going to get him out. That was when these great big hands grabbed me, tied a rope around me and dropped me down the hole. They told me I was not coming up until Chris was out.” Hec continued, “Well, that didn’t take long and when the rope was dropped back down, I didn’t waste time. I just grabbed it and was on top before they could start pulling.”

THE NEW FLAGPOLE.

The majority of the pupils were sitting in a semi-circle, appearing to admire the new flagpole. They were so quiet that the unsuspecting teacher decided to seize the opportunity to do a bit of bookwork. He should have had more sense. He hadn’t even started when there was a horrible yell. He raced outside to find his youngest hanging from the flagpole with his upper arm skewered on the cleat. He unhooked him and there was another nasty looking wound. That led to another overnight stay in hospital, 26 stitches or so and another interesting looking scar and fortunately, once again, no long term damage.

PARKING BIKES.

In spite of warnings, coaxing and straight out threats, the school cyclists would ride up to the “big gate” entrance, step off their bikes, drop them and let them lie where they fell. Then came the morning when a car sped around the bend, skidded out of control and finished up on its side in the paddock opposite the school. Once all rescue operations were completed, the kids condescended to return to school where it was found that one of the bikes parked as usual, had been run over and the back wheel badly buckled. Very badly buckled indeed. Next morning, without a word being said, all bikes were neatly parked against the fence. The fence from there on was regarded as a bike’s best friend.
gratitude.

SNAKES.

Until about 1956 or 7, snakes posed no problem to the pupils. This was due to the Allen boys’ “snake dog”. This dog had a ruthless and efficient talent for killing snakes. On one occasion, it killed one in a book cupboard scattering the books as ruthlessly and as efficiently as it dispatched snakes. When the youngest boy Larry went on to High School, Toby decided that he too had matriculated and called it a day and a new strategy was worked out. Each summer, three or four large brown or black snakes were dispatched, usually with a length of fencing wire. As reptiles showed a preference for the pit toilet areas, they were a worry but fortunately no-one was ever bitten. However many pupils had the daylights scared out of them. Sometimes they were scared speechless ... but not often.

WIND

Windy days as teachers and parents know well, are days when kids are rowdiest and more irresponsible than normal. The windier the day, the worse the behaviour. Fortunately the big wind that hit Bilambil about 1972 was a holiday so that injuries did not occur. On this particular day, the Presbyterian Church was demolished and if there had been one prayer less, the Catholic one would have gone too. As it was, it had about an inch to go before it toppled of its foundations and no doubt damaging the school as well. As it turned out, the school itself was not damaged but the weather shed took off and was scattered over Ross’s paddock. The floor came to rest spanning a gully and forming a bridge. It was safe to walk over but I never heard that Charlie Ross ever drove his tractor over it. This was the storm that unroofed houses at the top of the hill, made a mess of Seagulls, broke windows in the Country Club, smashed windscreens in parked cars and scared ten years growth out of the Terranora golfers. A very nasty experience it was - just ask those golfers.

FLOODS

Not that the school was ever flooded but the rain did interfere with the attendance. During heavy rain, the Highfields mob and those across creeks had problems. Only the teacher and the local ones attended. On these wet days, the kids themselves wanted to attend and their parents were happy to get them out of the house for a few hours.Occasionally during school hours, storms would flood the creek and water would rush over the culvert between the school and store. When safe, the teacher would escort the children through the water to where they could continue home. It was either that or bed them down for the night and the teacher chose the lesser of the two evils - lesser to him anyway.

The school rain gauge held 1 1/2” (288mls I think). At 9.30 one morning, the rain gauge was empty. One and a half hours later at 11 am the gauge was overflowing. The hills were awash, the gullies full and the creek a raging torrent but fortunately the rain abated and by hometime, the culvert was dry once more and once again the residence was spared.