Honouring the Were Brothers and Connecting with Family and Land.

The road trip continues. Saturday, the 18th April and the event that brought us down to Melbourne, the Officer Avenue of Trees Re-dedication Ceremony.

But first, catching up with Alyssa and Xander. They arrived in Melbourne the night before but came over first thing that morning to meet us at the park and to get a look at Colin. Forgot to take another photo, damn!

We then headed to Mordiallic for breakfast, a 20-minute drive away on the shores of Port Phillip Bay.

We found a fantastic little cafe just off the main road, The Mordi Canteen.

Great breakky and fantastic company. My beautiful best friend, Alex and Xander and his beautiful partner, Alyssa. It was so good to catch up. We hadn’t seen them for over a month.

The plan for the rest of the day was for Alex and me to head over to Braeside to pick up a new bit of kit for Colin. I’d ordered it earlier in the week, and as I knew Mordiallic was so close to Braeside, we decided to click and collect.

Alyssa and Xander’s plan was to do a bit of shopping. This was Alyssa’s first time in the southern capital, and the cold was a bit of a shock. So a new jacket was on the list. They would then head back to their hotel to get ready for the memorial and meet us back at the Big 4 to head over to Officer together.

The bit of kit we were picking up was the trailer trolley that I mentioned in Part One.

Since returning home, I have had the chance to put this together and use it. It is great. Works on gravel, and we can definitely move Colin in the front yard without hooking up to the car, but it isn’t the miracle product I thought it was going to be. Still happy with it though.

We got back to Colin about 11.30 am, plenty of time to get ready for a 1.00 pm pick up from Xander and Alyssa. And plenty of time to do a quick tidy up of the speech I had written the other night at Holbrook.

Xander agreed to deliver the speech at the ceremony. I thought it would mean a lot for him, a serving member of the ADF, to talk about his 2nd cousin 4 times removed, who was a serving member of the AIF over a century earlier.

I’ve embedded a copy below for those who might be interested.

1.00 pm came around very quickly, but we were ready.

Tiled Gallery 1: Courtesy of the Macvean Family Archives

Yes, I kilted up. I was very proud and humbled to be able to wear my family’s tartan, the McBean Modern, to honour Clive and the other servicemen being honoured that day.

Having only just been acquainted with Clive and his story in the last six months, I had no idea what had happened to his campaign medals. I was, however, able to check his service record at the National Archives, which confirmed the specific medals he had been awarded.

I was then able to order replicas of those medals, the 1914/15 Star, the British War Medal and the Victory Medal. Xander wore these proudly for Clive and for all of our family members who were awarded these same medals but are now long lost to history.

I proudly wore my maternal grandfather, Norman Henry Nicoll’s, war medals awarded for his service in WW2.

We set out for Officer.

The ceremony was being held in the grounds of The High Horse Cafe, about 500 meters from the site of the newly planted Avenue of Trees.

We had another fantastic family connection during this road trip, and that was that my cousin Anne Macvean, who actually lives in Melbourne, was going to attend the memorial with us.

Anne’s 2x great-grandfather, the Reverend Allan Macvean and my 3x great-grandfather, John Hugh Macvean, were brothers.

Like my other cousin, Alec Duke from Part One, Anne and I found each other online over a decade ago and have been sharing family information for years.

This would be our second opportunity to meet up in real life. Our first was back in November 2023, when Alex and I came down to Victoria to visit Xander when he was completing his initial ADF training at Puckapunyal Military Base. Puckapunyal is just two hours north of Melbourne.

One of the highlights of that trip was when Anne took me to visit the church at Brunswick, where the Rev. Allan was minister for over 40 years.

Now here we were two and a half years later in Officer, about to honour the memory of our cousin, Clive.

Geoff Griffith, who organised the event, started the proceedings off and acted as the MC for the ceremony.

Geoff had arranged for a serving member of the ADF, Andrew, who was a bugler, to attend the ceremony. He played the Last Post and the Reveille, and they certainly were very poignant moments of the afternoon.

Geoff and his team of researchers had found seven descendants of the 16 servicemen being honoured, and all were delivering speeches about their relatives.

Geoff had also organised for a Chaplain named Eric, from Upper Beaconsfield RSL, to deliver the Soldiers’ prayer.

The President of the Berwick RSL, Pam Phillips, Glen Williams from Treenet and the local Liberal MP, Renee Heath, all spoke as well.

This is the memorial board that was installed just a few days before the ceremony and sits in front of the first tree.

Geoff had one other surprise for us that afternoon: his researchers had managed to track down an actual member of the Were family, literally the day before, Robert Were.

Robert is the great-nephew of Clive Were, and he was able to attend the ceremony at short notice. He stood with Xander when he delivered his speech and then also spoke about Clive and his brother, Hugh’s, experiences in the war.

Tiled Gallery 3: Courtesy of the Macvean Family Archives

Robert had more first-hand knowledge of Clive’s experiences as he had a copy of a diary and some letters that Clive’s brother, Hugh, had written after the war. Robert very generously shared these with me.

One of the letters is just extraordinary. It is an account Hugh has written of their actually landing on ANZAC Cove the morning of the 25th of April, 1915.

What a gift. I can’t thank Robert enough for sharing this with me. I have read many letters and personal accounts of the landing, but to read Hugh’s words about them actually stepping off the boat onto shore and then telling us about the last time he saw Clive alive, it is breathtaking and so emotional.

It was a remarkable afternoon and a privilege to represent Clive, a family member we had really only just met. Meeting Robert, a previously unknown cousin, was an added delightful surprise.

The definite highlight for me was getting to share this moment with the wonderful people below—my family. I am deeply grateful for their support that afternoon.

After saying our goodbyes to Anne and Robert, we headed back to Dandenong and back to the RSL for dinner for a second night.

The staff were fantastic and remembered Alex and me from the night before. They made a bit of a fuss about us, which was very nice and gave us a reserved table. They were fully booked that night with a live band and ballroom dancing, but for us, they would squeeze us in. Surprisingly, Alyssa and Xander wouldn’t join Alex and me on the dance floor for a cheeky Merengue.

We had such a good time, we forgot to take a photo again. I know, my content creator credentials are swirling down the drain as I type. This is where we sat, though. You have to imagine us at the top bankette seats on the left.

After a tearful goodbye with Xander and Alyssa, Alex and I headed back to Colin.

On the way back to the park, Alex came up with a brilliant fix for the short bed for me. We ducked into Dandenong K’Mart and bought one of those full-body pillows, which we stuffed in at the head of the bed. This extended the bed enough for my feet to fit in, and it was bliss.

It was great timing, as this is what we faced that night in Dandenong.

Sunday morning dawned, and packing up was a dream again. We hit the road, but the road trip wasn’t over yet; we had a few more stops to make on the way home.

This was the first part of the journey, 42 minutes across town to Brighton.

Now Brighton is a bit of a family history hotspot for me. My 3x great-grandparents, the Reverend David Hunter Ballantyne and Margaret Kennedy Ballantyne née Smith, had moved to the area in January 1869 after sixteen years living in Albury, New South Wales.

Just a quick reminder, Margaret and David are my great-grandfather, Alexander Ballantyne Smith Macvean’s grandparents. The mix of their last names is probably a big giveaway.

Tiled Gallery 4: Courtesy of the Macvean Family Archives

I found this amazing article that confirms the exact date that they drove away from Albury. Wednesday, the 20th of January, 1869. That is 100 years, one month, and three weeks before I was born.

It is almost impossible to find a photograph of a family in a horse-drawn buggy in Australia from the 1860s or 70s. I managed to find one to show what David, Margaret, and their three children (my 2xgreat-grandmother, Jessie (14), her sister, Amy (11) and their brother, James (9)) might have travelled in. Of course, probably bigger than this and more than one.

I’ve wanted to visit Brighton for a while, especially to see St Cuthbert’s Presbyterian Church. The reason being that this is where David was inducted as minister back on the 31st of May 1869. Four months after they arrived in Melbourne.

It was known as Brighton Presbyterian Church at the time, and here is David about to preach just six days after his induction.

And here is St Cuthbert’s in all its glory.

Alex and I managed to find a park for Colin in Brighton that Sunday morning, which was a bit of a feat, and we wandered down to the church. It sits on Wilson Street, and it didn’t take long for us to find it.

Wow, a stunning old building that was opened in April 1890.

That date is a problem, though. At the time of the opening in April 1890, the Rev. David had been dead for 12 months. And at the time of his death, he had already been retired from his ministry, having resigned as Minister of Brighton in December 1887 due to failing health.

Of course, I already knew this on that Sunday morning; I’m just delivering the information this way for a bit of colour and movement. This was how it was for me when I first discovered this bit of David and Margaret’s story, thinking this was the church he preached at.

I went searching for the original church, first stop, the good old Melbourne & Metro Board of Works plans. And look what was on there, a big hint.

A quick search of Trove confirmed that the Sunday School marked on this map was indeed the first Presbyterian Church, and it opened in 1857. This excerpt below is from an article published in 1940, marking the 85th anniversary of the church, and confirming these details.

I then found a phenomenal resource on the National Library of Australia’s website: a booklet celebrating the church’s Diamond Jubilee in 1916. This booklet included a photograph of the original church where David preached for 18 years.

It also had image plates of David and the other four ministers who had preached there after Rev. McLachlan. (Full disclosure: I did clean these up in the WordPress AI enhancer)

I then found two extraordinary photos showing both churches together. They were taken sometime after 1890. This is after David had passed, but they clearly show the church David preached in and also the neighbourhood Margaret, David and the family would have known so well.

This original bluestone church stood there at no. 11 Wilson Street until 1950, when it was demolished. (It almost made it 100 years). A new memorial hall was built in its place to honour servicemen and women from both World Wars. https://www.bayside.vic.gov.au/sites/default/files/2021-09/City%20of%20Bayside%20Heritage%20Review%20Brighton%20Town%20Hall%20Precinct%20%28June%202013%29.pdf

The foundation stone for this new hall was laid on Saturday, the 29th September, 1951.

Tiled Gallery 5: Courtesy of Monument Australia

https://www.monumentaustralia.org/themes/conflict/multiple/display/98301-saint-cuthbert%60s-memorial-hall

Tiled Gallery 6: Articles Courtesy of Trove, National Library of Australia;

Photo of Sir Edmund Herring: Courtesy of Australian War Memorial

https://www.awm.gov.au/collection/C396711

This is the building, Alex, and I found ourselves in front of when taking the photo of St Cuthbert’s that morning. It still stands today and is now a kindergarten.

We stood precisely where Margaret, David, and their family, my family, lived 157 years ago. It felt like another of those ripple in time moments I’ve mentioned before.

The Bayside Heritage Review, which confirmed the details of the original church’s demolition, listed above, also included another fantastic piece of information for me. A map of the area from 1876, exactly the time David and Margaret were there.

You can clearly see “Presbyterian Church” written there across the 11 Wilson Street site, right through to Collier (Collins) Street. The review confirms why this is so significant for me.

A survey map, prepared a decade later by Charles Maxwell, shows that, apart from Hardham’s new hotel, there had been little more development in the vicinity by that time, with Section XI still vacant save for the courthouse at its eastern edge. Residential development was still limited to the north side of Wilson Street, where the residents included the Reverend D H Ballantyne, who lived in a manse purchased by the Presbyterian church in 1873.

Figure 38: Courtesy of Bayside Council

https://www.bayside.vic.gov.au/sites/default/files/2021-09/City%20of%20Bayside%20Heritage%20Review%20Brighton%20Town%20Hall%20Precinct%20%28June%202013%29.pdf

It confirms where the manse was. The northern side of the street, the same side as the church. I have never been able to pinpoint exactly where it was until I stumbled onto this gem of a find.

I then had the incredible luck of finding this on Trove, a for-sale notice of the Manse property in 1884 describing the actual building.

A seven-room brick villa with all the mod cons of the day. Wow! Here is the northern side of Wilson Street again, but check out the detail this time.

How incredible is that enhancer? It just couldn’t make out the horses attached to the buggies; they almost look like cars. I wonder if that house on this closer side of the church was the manse.

From the description in the for sale notice, it looks like this photo might just miss the manse. It states that it is opposite the new Town Hall site.

It could be that it was actually one of those three properties between the Town Hall Hotel and the house next to the Sunday School (Original Church) shown above. (Figure 38b)

The house to the left of the Hotel is long gone, I’ve checked Google Maps. It became part of the hotel’s car park.

The building on the right, above, is the Town Hall Hotel. It has been there since 1865, and it still stands, well, sort of. It was built by John Hardham and eventually became Khyat’s Hotel.

Margaret, David and the family would recognise this building; it was a landmark in their time. Khyat’s was closed down controversially in the late 2000s. https://www.smh.com.au/national/feathers-about-to-fly-over-future-of-brightons-ugly-duckling-20080830-465e.html

It is now residential apartments. In this photo, you can see that the Brighton Police Station is still standing, another remnant of Margaret and David’s time.

It looks like the only other remnants of their time to survive till today are the two properties I highlighted in yellow above. (Figure 38c) It might be that one of these was actually the Manse.

So the whole northern side of Wilson Street is potentially a family history hotspot for me. I found even more information that adds to its significance.

When Alex and I were standing there that morning, we were also looking at the exact spot where my 2x great-grandparents, Alexander Macvean and Jessie Davina Ballantyne, were married. And look who married them.

Not only Rev. David but also Rev. Allan Macvean, my 3x great-granduncle, who is pictured above (Figure 11).

This is also where my great-grandfather, Alexander Ballantyne Smith Macvean, was born, as well as where six of his eight brothers and sisters were born.

Obviously, my 2x great-grandmother Jessie Davina wanted to be in the care of her mother for the birth of her children. The two children, who weren’t born at the manse, Helen in 1890 and William in 1892, were both born at Howlong Station at Howlong. Margaret was also present for their births as she had moved in with Jessie and Alexander at Howlong Station after David’s death.

Alex and I were also looking at the place where Margaret and David said their final goodbyes to their beloved daughter, Amy Smith Ballantyne. She died in 1883 at the age of 23.

I had the great fortune of finding Amy’s final resting place at Brighton General Cemetery on our visit back in November 2023. Even with a map, it took me about an hour and a half of searching to find it. And look who is buried with her.

Her father, Rev. David. Margaret, her mum, is buried out at Howlong. And just because it seems like the right thing to do, here is a photo of her final resting place. Generously shared by another cousin, Paul.

I must admit, with all this family history in mind, Alex and I just stood there outside number 11, not talking, just soaking it in for a while.

Turning back to St Cuthbert’s, there was another really poignant moment when we found the Memorial Stone.

I remembered seeing an article on Trove a while back about the laying of this memorial stone, and here is a copy of it below. Check out who was there on that day, standing alongside the other dignitaries.

I’m pretty sure “J. Ballantyne” is David and Margaret’s son, James MacMillan Ballantyne. I could be wrong. There was a Reverend James Ballantyne, another Presbyterian Minister preaching in Melbourne at the time, but he is always referred to as Rev. J. Ballantyne in everything I have come across so far. It is nice to think that it was Margaret and David’s James there that day to represent their history with the place.

What a road trip, and it still wasn’t over yet. I know, can you believe it? Hang in there, it is almost done.

By this stage, Alex and I were pretty ravenous for some follow-up breakfast, so we found the nearest cafes and headed over. It was too far to walk, and we had to move Colin. Damn!

We drove straight through the trendy cafe area of Brighton, maneuvering Colin through chicanes and roundabouts. You should have seen the looks we got.

We managed to find a park five minutes’ walk up the road, pictured above on the right.

Colin and the Hilux fit right where the white hatchback is on the left. And then we walked back to this place. Royale, 1 Church Street.

The coffee was sensational, and the bacon and egg roll was great, but when I asked for it without a brioche bun, it caused some concern. People would have to be consulted. The waiter came back and announced that it could be put on white bread, but said to note that it was a special order. OMG! but Yay as well.

Below shows where we sat, at the second table from the back, there on the left-hand side, very comfy.

Until halfway through our breakky, a couple came in and sat on the back wall facing us. Just like “headphones” below.

I mean, what the actual f___! So uncomfortable!

Having survived this social ordeal and being watered and fed, we skipped back to Colin and hit the road. Next stop, Gundagai! Well, a couple of loo breaks in between and one final family history stop before that.

This was our route for the rest of the day.

Gundagai, because the thought of doing a 15-16 hour stint of driving from Melbourne to Forster, Argggghhhh! and also Calan said he could stay an extra night for us with Leelo, so we could break up the trip. Even with those couple of stops, it would still be about 7 hours on the road.

It took us just on an hour to get past Melbourne.

And then we were headed for Gundagai!

Gundagai, because I had stayed there on the trip down, back in 2023, and it was great. Old park with clean showers and toilets, and drive-through spots. Bloody awesome!

But we weren’t there yet. We had missed Elevensys, and getting out of Melbourne was a little traumatic, so we stopped for a coffee IV at the Shell Reddy Express, Bunker Hill, five minutes up the road from the intersection above.

Back on the road with a very lacklustre coffee and heading north. Alex was over taking photos from the car by this stage, so thank you, Google Maps.

Another hour and 40 minutes, and we were at Shell Euroa. A very sad pre-cooked bacon and egg roll served by a family of very unhappy people. Diesel again and still $3.00 a litre.

Now I thought Alex was done, but she very kindly dusted the lens cap off for this beaut shot, coming into Holbrook.

Watching all of this amazing countryside rolling by, it was not lost on me just how lucky we were to be driving through this incredible country. We are so blessed to live here, whilst so many other people, both here and around the world at the moment, are fighting to just stay alive.

Another quick stop at the Holbrook Ampol for diesel again.

And then Holbrook IGA, five minutes up the road, for ginger beer and kettle chips to eat on the road.

You see, we were on a time trial. We had to be in the caravan park by 5 pm, or so we were told, otherwise, no spot for us!

One issue with Gundagai Caravan Park, one really nice host, nothing is a trouble, and then another who can only be described as a Roz from Monsters Inc. Alex got Roz that day when she made the booking.

There was no way we were making it by 5 pm. We had another hour and 50 minutes on the road, and also one last family history stop to make before Gundagai. If we had to free camp, well, Wolf Creek here we come.

You see, this was the first road trip to occur with me knowing where my family’s home, the Rooksdale Homestead, was actually situated. All thanks to Daniel Shaw, who contacted me on the blog last year. He let me know that his family now owned the land and also the exact site of where the homestead sat. All discussed in my post last year, titled “Rooksdale Estate”.

Daniel also shared the only known photo of the actual home.

The site of the home was exactly 15 minutes north of us, from where we were at the IGA. Ginger Beer and Chips opened, and we hit the road.

The property sits on the eastern side of the highway, opposite the side we were heading north on. But Alex managed to get a couple of shots. Here was our first look at the site.

The water tank marks the boundary of the old home, as it used to sit right alongside it.

I have to admit, I was a bit stressed at this moment; it was a bit precarious parking the Hilux and Colin on the verge. There were heaps of B Double trucks hurtling down the road past us while we were stopped.

I was ready to just go, but Alex convinced me that we needed to get on the other side, as we didn’t know when we would be down this way again.

So we headed for the next turning break a little further up the highway and turned around. Talk about precarious, but Colin and the Hilux handled it well; Alex and I, not so much.

We pulled up, and this was our greeting party. They just came running over to us.

Imagine these next two shots stitched together. I think this is the remnants of the original drive going up the homestead.

All that information I had uncovered and shared in my last three posts on Rooksdale and my family was all swirling in my head. I swear I could see the figures of my grandfather, John, his brother and sisters, my great-grandparents, Annie and Alex, even the Shaw family who lived there before them.

Like earlier that day, standing in front of the Wilson Street property in Brighton, we just stood there soaking it in. I can’t thank Alex enough for giving me that moment.

We jumped back into the Hilux, went back to Holbrook, turned around, and continued to Gundagai.

Alex made contact with the caravan park, and Roz had gone for the day. Bonus! Alex got the nice lady. Our 6.00 pm arrival would be no problem. The key to the bathrooms, in an envelope for us in their mailbox. We were allocated site one, and just remember, to keep the noise down when setting up. Stress alleviated!

30-minute set-up and quick ablution session, and we hit town for dinner. Tian Restaurant at the Gundagai District Services Club.

OMG! It was the most sensational Chinese meal, I would even go so far as to say, a most succulent Chinese meal!!

Thanks to Google contributor Greg D, who may have been there at the same time as us, this is almost exactly the succulence that Alex and I enjoyed.

Well, here we are, folks, the last day of the road trip, Monday, 20th April. It is almost over. Well, apart from these final facts.

Second stop at Yass Ampol for the trip, more diesel, still $3.00 a litre.

Tiled Gallery 11: All Photos Courtesy of Google Maps, except BOM and Parcel shots, they are all mine!

Then 4.57 pm, this glorious moment!

Leelo was very pleased to see us back.

Although she had a great time with Calan.

We were five days away, travelled a round trip of 2890 kms, and spent $1,162.00 in diesel, but it was so worth it!

This journey was so much fun. Just getting to hang out with my best friend and enjoying each other’s company.

It was poignant, and it is unforgettable. We gained lasting memories, deep connections with family and learned so much about my family’s history, and it all began with a random unsolicited message on Ancestry.

Final note, thanks, Colin! And he looks good in his new home.