Latest news with #NedKelly
Agriland
3 days ago
- Business
- Agriland
Nenagh farmer named Arrabawn Tipperary Co-op 'Milk Supplier of the Year'
Dairy processor, Arrabawn Tipperary Co-op has announced the winner of its 2024 Milk Supplier of the Year award. The Tipperary dairy farmer, Ned Kelly was named the winner of the award yesterday (Tuesday, August 12). A spokesperson for the dairy processor said: "With an impressive combination of sustainability, milk quality, animal care, and family dedication, the Kelly farm stands as a shining example of the best of Irish dairy farming. "Arrabawn Tipperary Co-op would like to congratulate Ned Kelly and his family on winning the very prestigious award." The co-op also expressed its thanks to the Kelly family for representing Arrabawn Tipperary Co-Op to the "highest of standards" in their role as a milk supplier. Kelly is the first winner of the award since the merger of Arrabawn Co-operative Society and Tipperary Co-operative Creameries back in February 2025. Kelly, who is based just outside Nenagh in Ballycommon is milking 141 cows along the banks of Lough Derg. The north Tipperary family farm has being run by the Kellys since 1973 experiencing much growth over the years such as the 2023 upgrade to a 12-unit double-up parlour to improve labour efficiency. On February 28, 2025, Arrabawn Tipperary Co-operative Society was formally established following a merger of Arrabawn Co-operative Society and Tipperary Co-operative Creameries. The decision to merge the two companies into the current dairy and agri-trading cooperative came in November 2024. The new co-op owned by over 4,800 members, has 1,400 dairy farmer suppliers spanning across 16 counties and supplying approximately 750 million litres of milk annually. The merger led to the co-op owning: Two primary ingredient manufacturing facilities at Nenagh and Tipperary town, processing almost 900 million litres of milk products annually; 15 agri-trading stores, including facilities at Nenagh, Tipperary town and Athenry; Feed brand Dan O'Connor Feeds; French-based cheese production facility Tippagral. In May, the co-op appointed Co. Cork native, Eamon O'Sullivan as its first CEO since the merger.
ABC News
10-08-2025
- ABC News
Bushranger Wild Scotchman retains 'heroic aura' after almost 160 years
You may never have heard of the bushranger dubbed the Wild Scotchman, but he is Queensland's own Ned Kelly with a record of brazen robberies and even an infamous prison break. James Alpin McPherson is the man behind the reputation. He is widely touted as the state's only bushranger, known to the Wide Bay region north of Brisbane for his crimes throughout the 1860s. McPherson would become known for his charm and intellect as much as for his criminal deeds. Originally from Scotland, he moved to the newly established pioneer area as a boy. What is unclear is why McPherson, an apprentice builder and accomplished bushman, turned to a life of crime in 1865. Historical records show he became an outlaw after being charged after holding up a Bowen publican over unpaid wages. From here he escaped custody, fleeing to the Wide Bay, robbing mail coaches between Maryborough, Gayndah and Gladstone. The now-notorious Wild Scotchman went on a spree of robberies in late November 1865, with reports from the era describing his growing reputation of being both well-mannered and polite during the run-ins. Historian Belinda Daly founded the Saint Helena Island Community Group, which preserves the history of the island's prison that would eventually house McPherson. "All of those things together made him endearing to people and I think that's a big part of why he continues to be talked about." James Cook University PhD candidate Cindi Davey, who has researched McPherson, said the myth he was Queensland's only bushranger may have developed because of his charisma. "There's heaps of bushrangers, but they all get caught fairly quickly and they're not as 'successful', because they weren't as literate as James McPherson was," Ms Davey said. "Every time he bailed a postman up to steal stuff out of the post, he would skite about what an excellent bushranger he was and how he had the best skills in the world and no one could beat him." McPherson's skills were not enough to keep him from being captured by four horsemen on a property called Monduran Station in Gin Gin, four hours north of Brisbane, on March 30, 1866. His capture was recorded in newspapers that detailed his alleged taunts of police and the community's "boredom" after his arrest. McPherson spent three years in H.M. Gaol Brisbane, now better known as Boggo Road, before being transferred to what was known as the "Alcatraz of Moreton Bay" — the St Helena Island Penal Establishment. Queensland Parks and Wildlife Service ranger Daley Donnelly, who manages landscapes and structures on St Helena Island, said McPherson was only at the maximum-security prison for seven weeks before trying to escape. Quickly caught, others received 25 lashes, while McPherson and another prisoner, Henry Ross, received 30 days of solitary confinement. "Solitary confinement was in the dark cells, semi-underground, silence was the rule, and you lived on bread and water, so it was absolute torture," he said. McPherson turned to writing while in solitary, penning 19 poems in an exercise book. "That's how we get a sense of what it was like to be in the prison cells," Mr Donnelly said. "He really captures the awful condition, but it also communicates this resilience, exuberance and delight in his knowledge. "He's using Greek mythology, he could write in Latin. "He's probably the most colourful prisoner in the entire history of the island." That colour inspired an annual festival in Gin Gin that ran for 17 years from 1990 to 2007. Descendants would travel to be a part of the event each year to commemorate The Wild Scotchman's capture. Community members have called for a return of the event to mark the 160th anniversary of McPherson's capture, in March. Ms Daley said McPherson was known for his ability to speak Gaelic, French and German. Records show he was punished seven times in just 13 months while on St Helena for assaulting a fellow prisoner, refusing to work, making noise, disobeying orders and making frivolous complaints. Ms Daley said it was surprising then that he was released just eight years into his 25-year sentence. "When he was sentenced, Chief Justice James Cockle wanted to send a bit of a deterrent out to all would-be bushrangers, so he made the sentence quite harsh, giving him two lots of 25 years, to do concurrently," she said. A petition for his release was made by his parents in 1874, which was supported by respected community members of the time. "There was some decision made at a high level to let him go," Ms Daley said. Queensland State Archives show that once he was released, McPherson never returned to a life of crime, working as a stockman at Cessbrook. He married and had seven children before he died, aged 53, after falling from his horse at Burketown. University of Technology Sydney research fellow Meg Foster, who has been studying Australian bushrangers for a decade, said there was a "heroic aura" around "elite" bushrangers such as Ned Kelly. But she said their status was being questioned. "I think there's a growing awareness that we need to think more critically about that colonial past."
Perth Now
05-06-2025
- Entertainment
- Perth Now
History in the making
Red Ned Irish Red Ale Your local paper, whenever you want it. Bright Tank Brewing Co. Australia and Ireland have a shared history that dates back to colonial times when Irish settlers, both free and forced, made this land their home. None more significant than Ned Kelly, the son of Irish immigrants turned notorious bushranger whose rebellion against authorities made him a folk hero and a cultural icon. Now Bright Tank Brewing Co pays tribute to this outlaw spirit with its Red Ned Irish Red Ale. Red Ned Credit: supplied The Irish influence makes its presence felt first on the nose through toasty malts ideal for a cold northern hemisphere winter - think fresh bread crust, toffee and roasted hazelnuts - before an Aussie twist in Pride of Ringwood hops from Victoria that bring an earthy, citrus-tinged edge with a hit of classic pub herbals. Malt takes centre stage first up, with rich biscuit flavour, caramel sweetness and a subtle roasted kick before a dry, grassy bitterness and flash of citrus peel cuts through. It's a medium-bodied ale with lingering caramel flavours and a slightly dry finish that sits easy on the palate but still packs a punch. It's a bold, yet balanced drink that with an ABV of 5 per cent leaves you ready to go another round but also ideal for sharing with you own gang of misfits. $72.50 for a case of 16
Daily Mail
31-05-2025
- General
- Daily Mail
I moved from the UK to Australia two years ago. Aussies tell themselves a big lie - the real, infuriating truth about this country is clear, writes MAX AITCHISON
Long before I arrived on these sun-kissed shores, I thought I had grasped the idea of the Australian soul. The tolerant, open-minded, 'she'll be right, mate', approach to life Aussies like to show to the world. It was, my reading informed me, the great land of larrikins – a proud tradition of holding a healthy disrespect for rules and order that drew its inspiration from the legendary outlaw Ned Kelly. A nation of plucky underdogs who viewed their former British overlords with contempt. A land where rugged individuals laughed in the face of authority and forged their own meritocratic identity. A people who valued common sense, who fought for their own beliefs and scorned the establishment's stuffy rules. It seemed to me that Kelly and his heroic last stand embodied what it was to be Australian. Yet, having lived in this country for over two years, I now realise how naive I was. For it is painfully – infuriatingly – obvious that a very loud minority of modern Australians have much more in common with the men who strung Kelly up, than the mythical outlaw himself. As the late, great Australian critic and journalist Clive James once observed: 'The problem with Australians is not that so many of them are descended from convicts, but that so many of them are descended from prison officers.' I see this slavish adherence to rules and pettifogging everywhere, at all levels of society, from the individual to the state. I see it in my multi-millionaire banker neighbour who rang the council to send out a ranger to fine me $350 for parking four inches across his driveway, rather than leaving a note, which would have achieved exactly the same thing. I see it in the council rangers who not only demanded that a family pour out the champagne they were drinking to celebrate Christmas day onto the hot sand of Bondi Beach, but also to pop and pour their unopened bottles too. I see it in the surly staff at the Avoca surf club restaurant who, on Good Friday of all days, refused a table to a young couple and their two children, both of whom were under the age of three, because the toddlers had committed the inexcusable sin of not wearing shoes inside. I see it too, more times than I care to mention, in the power-hungry bouncers staffing Sydney's pubs and clubs who seem to relish in ruining any decent night out. 'How many drinks have you had?' – the question to which there is no right answer, honest or otherwise. I see it also in the intensely passive aggressive note left on my windshield after I had the temerity to leave my car parked in the same, entirely legal, spot on the street I live on for two weeks, which read: 'Has this car been abandoned? We will call the council and have it removed – residents.' I had half a mind to flip the paper and write: 'Hi resident. Also resident. Why don't you get a life and mind your own business?' (And yes, I am starting to wonder if there is something wrong with my neighbours). Regardless, I see it everywhere: this curtain-twitching, joy-extinguishing, fun-sponging desire to pursue conformity at all costs. And it's not just confined to neighbourhood spats, officious hospitality staff of lowly council bureaucrats. This rotten, rule-making insanity runs right through the heart of state and federal governments across the country. Of course, it plumbed new depths during the pandemic. State premiers, drunk off power and acting like Communist dictators, families unable to say goodbye to loved ones and the appalling case of a pregnant woman in her pyjamas being taken from her home in handcuffs for daring to stand up to the tyranny. But it didn't end there. Take the upcoming social media ban for children under the age of 16 or the $420,000-a-year eSafety Commissioner whose job seems to entail telling social media companies to remove mean posts, sometimes made by people in foreign countries. You hear politicians praising these measures as 'world leading', as if being the first country to do something precludes any discussion over whether it's actually a good idea in the first place. Because they're not. The eSafety Commissioner is about as useful as a chocolate teapot and if anyone sincerely thinks that children aren't going to get around any ban in a matter of seconds then I have a good bridge to sell you. No, what these laws are all about is pandering to Australia's obsession with policing other people's lives. And nowhere was this more apparent than in the case of Sydney restaurateur Nahji Chu, whose Lady Chu eatery in Potts Point was visited last Friday by unsmiling council bureaucrats who were unhappy with her potted plants. In an explosive showdown, filmed by a staff member, Ms Chu unleashed on the council employees: 'This is 'f***ed up, this whole city is f***ed up! 'I'm not a f***ing naughty school kid, so don't speak to me like that. 'I'm paying f***ing taxes and I'm paying your wages, so f*** off. 'I'm trying to activate this f***ing dead city, so don't shut it down.' While a family website such as this one cannot condone Ms Chu's colourful language, I applaud her sentiment wholeheartedly. Here is an Australian hero, willing to stand up for herself and others in the face of joyless officials. This is a woman who fled the communist Pathet Lao regime as a child in 1975, only to then be thrown into a Thai jail cell with her father where she caught TB and languished for three months. Her family then bounced around Thai refugee camps for three years before they eventually became among the first Vietnamese refugees to settle in Australia. Ms Chu has worked in the varied worlds of fashion (where she once helped dress Kylie Minogue) banking and hospitality, a sector in which she has built and lost an empire before starting all again from scratch with the popular Lady Chu in 2021. She was gloriously unapologetic when she spoke to my colleague Jonica Bray earlier this week. 'There is no fun in this city, you can't do anything or you face a fine,' she said. 'No one even leaves their house anymore - they just work to make money and go and spend it overseas where they can get culture and have a good time.' And she's right. If the average Australian allows the small but powerful minority of rule-lovers to win, then the country must drop any pretense to being some kind of laidback nirvana and must face a reckoning with its true identity. I urge all proud Australians to follow Ms Chu's lead and resist loudly and openly – to stand up for the values and the spirit that makes this country so great.
News.com.au
26-05-2025
- Health
- News.com.au
Forensic pathologist makes claim about Ned Kelly tattoos
A forensic pathologist has shared the bizarre trend he has noticed about those who have a popular Australian tattoo. Roger Byard, an Emeritus Professor at The University of Adelaide who is nicknamed Dr Death by his colleagues, specialises in the study of death and injuries. His profession not only helps solve crimes, but can also help prevent future deaths in cases such as the research his autopsies provided on Sudden Infant Death Syndrome to help lower early childhood deaths. Recently, Mr Byard appeared on I Catch Killers with Gary Jubelin, where he revealed an anecdotal trend about a tattoo he has noticed during his 30 year career. After getting involved with Foxtel series Lawless, which looked at figures such as Ned Kelly and the Kenneth Brothers, Mr Byard said he kept looking into Bushrangers. 'We were basically trying to see what evidence there was for the historical stories. You look at Ben Hall — the popular theory is that police snuck up on him and shot him in his swag,' Mr Byard said on the podcast. 'The police version is a bit different.' It led him to notice, anecdotally, a piece of information about people who had ink of Australia's most well known bushranger Ned Kelly, who was executed for killing Constable Thomas Lonigan in 1880. 'I just noticed that a lot of the people coming into the mortuary with Ned Kelly tattoos had died violent deaths,' he said. I did a retrospective study and then I did a 10-year prospective study. Sure enough like 80 per cent of them had died of accidents or suicides or homicides. All sorts of strange things.' Mr Byard clarified that this was in a forensic context and just because you had a tattoo of Ned Kelly it didn't mean you were 'marked' for a violent death. He said he thought it was because the tattoo was a mark of 'drug associated' lifestyles or other forms of risk taking. Social media users claimed the tattoo represented a certain kind of lifestyle. 'I think it's also the demographic within society that idolises Ned is mostly those who live reckless and/or dangerous lives,' one said. Another said: 'Wow that feels energetic. They say tattooing names on you also transfers a similar energy.' It's not the first time Mr Byard has discussed this topic, in 2023 he and Hamish Maxwell-Stewart had a paper published in Forensic Science, Medicine and Pathology journal. The paper explained that the tattoos often depicted Kelly in his armour or his alleged last words 'Such is life'. Their study ran from January 1, 2011, to December 31, 2020, at Forensic Science South Australia. Over this period, 38 people ended up in the morgue with Ned Kelly inspired tattoos. Ten of these were natural deaths, while 15 were suicide, nine were accidents and four were homicides.
