1408msletters4
Margie Christowski, Roseville Fromage to eternity
Making light of death by cheese might not be very mature, but I reckon it's the whey to go (Letters, August 12).
Robert Hickey, Green Point Feathered fiends
I haven't heard the koel's call but my two currawongs wake me at 5.30am for their breakfast, followed by two black crows, the butcher birds and the kookas and magpies later in the day. As for the lorikeets, they hardly ever leave, seduced by my sunny back garden.
Coral Button, North Epping Awesome octogenarian
My dishwasher has just turned 87. He has macular degeneration, so the quality of the wash is patchy. But he loudly warbles 'Jerusalem, Jerusalem!' as he works, makes me countless cups of tea and scrambled eggs on Saturdays and he is irreplaceable to our family.
Robyn Cashman, Fernhill Quando, Q+A
The watchability of Q+A was always inversely proportional to the number of politicians appearing on its panel ('The big question is: What next for Q+A, if not the end?', August 14).
Edward Grieve, Woolloomooloo
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Sydney Morning Herald
6 days ago
- Sydney Morning Herald
1408msletters4
Correct me if I'm wrong. The most common letter writers' names seem to be Margaret, John or Joan. Something about the average age? I'm waiting for a Zephyr, Serilda or Ixia. Margie Christowski, Roseville Fromage to eternity Making light of death by cheese might not be very mature, but I reckon it's the whey to go (Letters, August 12). Robert Hickey, Green Point Feathered fiends I haven't heard the koel's call but my two currawongs wake me at 5.30am for their breakfast, followed by two black crows, the butcher birds and the kookas and magpies later in the day. As for the lorikeets, they hardly ever leave, seduced by my sunny back garden. Coral Button, North Epping Awesome octogenarian My dishwasher has just turned 87. He has macular degeneration, so the quality of the wash is patchy. But he loudly warbles 'Jerusalem, Jerusalem!' as he works, makes me countless cups of tea and scrambled eggs on Saturdays and he is irreplaceable to our family. Robyn Cashman, Fernhill Quando, Q+A The watchability of Q+A was always inversely proportional to the number of politicians appearing on its panel ('The big question is: What next for Q+A, if not the end?', August 14). Edward Grieve, Woolloomooloo
ABC News
14-07-2025
- ABC News
Hundreds mourn Eileen Bond, ex-wife of controversial businessman Alan Bond, at Fremantle funeral
Hundreds of friends and family members have farewelled Eileen Bond, the first wife of controversial Perth business tycoon Alan Bond. Ms Bond, fondly known as "Red", died after a stroke earlier this month, aged 87. She was remembered as someone who lived life to the fullest and could make everyone feel special. Mourners gathered for her funeral at St Patrick's Basilica in Fremantle, the town where she was born and raised with her four brothers and sisters. As her son John Bond said in his eulogy, with her "fiery red hair and personality to match" she quickly became known as "Red". "Red's life seems to me best summed up by words beginning with the letter F. If any of you immediately thought of a four-letter expletive she was known to utter, you should now say a Hail Mary," he said to laughter from those in the church. She and her then husband Alan were at the centre of massive national celebrations when his sailing team won the America's Cup in 1983. She became like a mother to the crew, John Bond said, and managed to charm the "great aristocratic families" in the United States as the sailing grace progressed. "Red had an incredible knack of being able to befriend anybody at any time, in any circumstances," he said. "She was vitally interested in people's lives, and I think that was the key." He said his mother made everyone feel special and could relate to people of all ages. "The house was always open, the fire was on, and the champagne was always flowing. She was everyone's grandma, mother, auntie or just dear friend. Age was simply an irrelevant label to her," he said. Among those at the funeral were Ms Bond's cousin, the high-profile car dealer John Hughes, former South Fremantle Football Club great Stephen Michael, and former premier Richard Court. In his homily, Father Christian Fini spoke of her "remarkable life, spirit and joy for living". "Red is more than a nickname for Eileen, it is a powerful metaphor and symbol for her legacy as a much-loved mother, grandmother, great grandmother, family member, dear friend to many and Australian icon," he said. Ms Bond was the number one ticket holder for the South Fremantle Football Club for more than 20 years. John Bond said she was still going to the footy right until the end, and living her life in the only speed that she knew: fast. "She lived life to the full," he said. "In the last week of her life, she had bought a new Balenciaga outfit for lunch at Chez Pierre on Thursday, gone to the footy on Saturday, was due at our place for lunch on Sunday, but sadly never arrived.
ABC News
11-07-2025
- ABC News
Police diver's book on how the bleakest job brings relief for loved ones
Luke McCulloch had never used scuba equipment before he decided to become a police diver. But as a young officer in Port Hedland, he was looking to specialise in one field when he saw an advertisement for police divers, so he threw his hat in the ring. "I was always good in the water. I was comfortable in the water," Mr McCulloch told Nadia Mitsopoulos on ABC Radio Perth. He has now written a book about his eight years working as a police diver, Tales of a Diver: Profundis, Obscurus, Sordidus (which is Latin for deep, dark and dirty). Mr McCulloch said the subtitle aptly described the grim work of searching, often for human remains, in water that had such low visibility it was black. "It was after quite a hectic job that … I just thought, I need to let my family know the ins and outs of this and what we actually do," he said. In order to apply for the police diver selection course, Mr McCulloch hastily completed scuba diving training just 24 hours before the selection course started. A few months later, a vacancy came up on the police diving team. He said he knew, going in, how difficult the work would be. "I definitely wasn't expecting to be diving around in the coral reefs of Rottnest Island … looking for buried treasure," he said. "I don't really know what I was expecting. To be honest, as a young fellow, I just wanted to do something really well." Much of the work was not in deep water, but it was often so dark he couldn't even see his hand in front of his face. He developed ways of checking his instruments by touch. "I think it was 90 per cent of our work was sub-5 metres," he said. "It's not quite stand-up depths, but it's quite shallow. It's not your deep-sea diving that everyone might think it is, but it is just black water. Mr McCulloch's first job was retrieving the body of someone who died by suicide from the Swan River. He also attended the Australia Day plane crash in 2017, when two people died after their plane plunged into the Swan River during an air show, and in 2018, it was Mr McCulloch who retrieved Annabelle Chen's body from the same river, where it had been dumped in a suitcase. He said retrieving bodies from dark water had, at times, made the job easier to handle, emotionally. "So, you're bringing it up, you're passing it onto the officers on the shore and that makes it a little bit easier to be honest." As grim as the discoveries often were, Mr McCulloch said he took heart from knowing he was returning remains to families looking for answers. A self-preservation strategy he adopted was to know as little as possible about the person he was searching for. "I tried, going into the water when I was doing it, not knowing even their name. "I don't need to know their name. Otherwise it's going to get too personal. While finding someone in the water "always sent a jerk though my body", Mr McCulloch said not finding a missing person was worse. "I would always just try and imagine it as if it was one of my family members and we'd never gotten them back," he said. Often, family members and friends of the missing person would be waiting on the shore while he did his work. "There weren't a lot [of cases] where we didn't get them [the missing person], but you definitely remember them." Two years ago, after eight years with the diving squad, Mr McCulloch left the police force. He now trains people in how to escape from helicopters if they crash into water.
