SHARING COMMUNITY NEWS AND VIEWS

The Manning Community NewsThis paper is being published as a community service to provide readers with factual and independent coverage of

news, people and events in our district. If you have a story idea please contact us. PO Box 62, Tinonee, 2430 editor@manningcommunitynews.com

MARCH 2016

It was a clever marketing move to designate and trade on the Heritage Town concept for Wingham. Those thinkers and people with vision

could see trading on and developing the charming country heritage town was a terrific idea for businesses and tourism.

So what happens? The dollar kicks in . . . de-velopers and business owners or others with deep pockets, decide they have a better idea - let’s pull those “old” buildings down.

Why not think, this could be restored, cop-ied, rebuilt in the same style to fit in with the Heritage concept, and continue the attractive theme of the town. But no, the wreckers go in with chainsaws at dawn and under Council’s instructions.

So we lost the Wingham Hotel and their rare classic stables, the last of their kind in NSW, plus Cochrane’s Palace Emporium and the Australian Joint Stock Bank at the entrance to Wingham. And we are left with empty store-fronts and an ugly parking lot and a ghostly empty grassy lot.

But wait . . . there is indeed more.Council is currently contemplating approv-

ing a Coles Service Station for the site.Yes. Welcome to Heritage Wingham where

a supermarket service station with, one as-sumes, it’s attendant Servo and cheap prices, will grace the iconic entrance to our township.

Why? It is completely inappropriate. It will undercut and harm existing businesses. It is too close to the school.

Locals ObjectSays Robert Milliken at hearing the news of

a proposed Service Station on the site ; ‘I grew up in Wingham when my parents owned the Wingham Hotel. The building opposite, The Palace Emporium, on the corner of Isabella and Wynter Streets, the proposed develop-ment site, was a charming nineteenth century building with a veranda upstairs, via a mag-nificent cedar staircase, complementing the

Whether one chooses to live in a particular area because of the lifestyle,

attractiveness, affordability, business opportunities, it’s a better place to retire or bring up children, or else you’re here because you were born here or grew up in the area, it is still your home and your future.

Maybe when you’ve always lived in a place you take it a bit for granted. You don’t see it through the eyes of visitors, tourists or new residents.

Sometimes one needs to stand back and take a good hard look around and value where you are and what is good or bad, what is poten-tially terrific and if you could wave a magic wand what would you change?

Because change happens whether we like it or not. So maybe we should participate in the inevitable. Have a say in our destiny.

ARE WE GOING TO THE DOGS?A centre for greyhound racing and gambling… a supermarket Service Station on a heritage site… is this the look we want for our area?

WINGHAM THE (ONCE) HERITAGE TOWNWingham has always been a heritage town, built on the classic British Town Square design, where gracious colonial style buildings face the village green - an oasis of social activities from cricket to concerts.

Continued on page 2Continued on page 2

hotel. Both buildings have tragically disap-peared, but they defined Wingham’s heritage character at the town’s entrance. I believe any development on that site should reflect that character, especially as the heritage central

park and school buildings directly opposite have survived.”

Both Eric and Mave Richardson are on the GTCC Heritage Advisory Committee and feel

2 MARCH 2016 The Manning Community News

Councillor Peter Epov asks - Why are we being forced to amalgamate?

In last month’s lead article “Now This Sounds Like a Coun-cil!” I read of the success story of the tiny Council of Liverpool Plains Shire (population 8500), which was found through the NSW Government’s Fit for the Future Review to be ‘Not Fit’ , but escaped amalgama-tion with two larger Coun-cils through intelligent man-agement and sound financial re-structuring.

Little did anyone dream at the time that a few short weeks later our Council, Greater Ta-ree, would be facing the pros-pects of a forced amalgamation with Great Lakes Council and Gloucester Shire Council.

Why did this happen?In a recent Manning River

Times article entitled ‘Beggars belief ’ Council’s General Man-ager, Ron Posselt, laid the blame squarely at the feet of Glouces-ter Shire Council, which in it’s Submission, in order to avoid the merger with Dungog Shire Council, proposed by the NSW Government; stated that it preferred to stand alone, but if this was not acceptable then Gloucester offered a three-way merger with Greater Taree and Great Lakes.

Was it really Gloucester’s fault?

I don’t think so. Its just a little too convenient to blame Gloucester for this mess. Over the past four years, Council has done very little to insulate Greater Taree from the pros-pect of amalgamation, in fact we have gone out of our way to put ourselves back on the radar after it appeared that we had escaped the first round of pro-posed amalgamations.

I believe that Council did not deliver an effective nor ac-curate response to IPART’s Fit For the Future Final Report, a mandatory response, directly back to Premier’s Department. A response that was not even backed by a Council resolu-tion.

Over the past four years Council did not have a strate-gy for the State Government’s reform agenda. We did not commission, like other Coun-cils, any reports, studies nor did we develop any business cases that showed the bene-fits or the pitfalls of a merger with one or more neighbour-ing Councils. The response back to the Premier’s Depart-ment was a real opportunity to clarify our position, that went begging.

I am a strong opponent of the proposed Special Rate Variation and I also believe that Council’s application for a massive 49.2% increase so quickly after the Fit For the Fu-ture review actually refocused

the spotlight back on to Coun-cil’s ongoing financial viability. IPART has stated:

“A large number of councils have proposed substantial fu-ture increases to general income to meet the financial criteria. There is a risk councils have proposed future SVs to improve their financial performance, and may not have fully consid-ered whether alternative struc-tures for the local government area, such as a merger, may be a better outcome.” (p37)

“Structural changes could achieve similar or larger im-provements to a council’s general income and reduce the need for, and size of, potential SV increas-es, which could limit the impact of higher rates on the communi-ty. This was apparent during the assessment process.” (p37)

If you have an opinion on the proposed merger don’t miss out on your opportunity to participate!

Open Public Inquires will be held at:April 4 – Club Taree 4pm to 8pmApril 5 –

Club Foster 9am to 1 pmBulahdelah Bowling Club 3pm to 5pmApril 6 – Gloucester Soldiers Club 9am to 12 midday

Should you wish to attend and or speak you need to reg-ister www.councilboundaryre-view.nsw.gov.au or by tele-phone: 1300813020.

Deadline for written submis-sions: Friday 15 April. Submis-sions can be lodged at: www.councilboundaryreview.nsw.gov.au or by mail to Council Boundary Review, GPO Box 5341, Sydney NSW 2001.

Councillor Peter Epov, Wingham.

YOUR SAY ...

To Whom It May Concern,I was on a trip back home to Taree when I

came across the Manning Community Newspa-per on the bench in the arrivals lounge at the Taree airport. The first thing that struck me was the simple black and white appearance of the pa-per and the traditional font of the heading ‘The Manning Community News’. Nothing flash or pretentious like the busy city I just came from. Already I felt at home.   Whilst waiting in the lounge I enjoyed all the content (Jan 2016)-I re-ally felt I was back in a rural environment after a busy couple of days in Sydney. Thank you! Well done to publishers and all involved in producing a very fine and traditional local newspaper.

 Kind Regards, James ParkinsonTaree

Concerning the letter from Ron Posselt, GM GTCC re the SRV(Manning Community News February edition.)

I have known the Editor and Publisher of The Manning Community News, Di Morrissey, for

close to 40 years   - since we were both young journalists on various magazines/newspapers/radio.  Di also worked in TV as a reporter and is now Australia’s top selling female novelist.

Di is one of the hardest working, most cou-rageous, energetic and honourable people I know.  The letter, ostensibly from Mr Ron Pos-selt the General Manager of the Greater Taree City Council,   sounds more like an immature and snipey piece by a young PR person or envi-ous junior reporter.   

It is a basic law of journalism that you address the issues, not the person.  It is beneath the role of General Manager, of a large NSW council, to couch a response to serious local issues, of importance to the whole community, in such a manner.

The community response to The Manning Community News has shown they are glad there is now more transparency and open de-bate about how the GTCC operates.

Methinks the GM’s response to Di Morrissey’s editorial piece can only mean she touched a nerve.

Kirsten Garrett, Sydney.

There are those who shrug and say, well, what can we do about it, how can we change things here? Sure, we vote for our politicians and Council and we hand the de-cision making process to them. Then whinge if things don’t go the way we’d like until the next elec-tion, when, perhaps, little changes.

Then there are people who are the doers, the glass half full types, and those who can see potential and positivity, but don’t take any action.

And there are those who choose to do something about it. Brave, bold, foolhardy perhaps, but well motivated who can see the Big Picture. But they are few and far between.

Those who control power, do not relinquish it easily, nor look kindly on those with vision and ideas which may oust them from their comfortable seats.

Too often it is the mighty dollar that drives decisions. And benefits the few.

So let’s ask a few hard questions.

What’s Best for Our Area?Do you think greyhound rac-

ing is a cruel and barbaric sport, which, according to the Humane Society International Australia, includes the killing of healthy dogs, severe injuries to the ani-mals and the abuse of power by Greyhound Racing NSW.   It was reported that in 2015 between 13,000 and 17,000 healthy grey-hounds are killed annually, and the inquiry heard that live baiting was used by up to 90% of trainers in NSW. The 2015 Annual Report by Greyhound Racing NSW says they hope to re-home just 250 dogs in 2015/16. This is despite the fact that they are spending $1,054, 672 on their Greyhound As Pets program, more than tri-ple the amount spent in 2014/15. Only 179 dogs were re-homed as part of their program in 2014/15. Australia represents the 3rd larg-est greyhound racing industry in the world, with New South Wales

being home to 34 of the 77 race tracks.   The industry is fraught with allegations of animal cruel-ty, corruption, over-breeding, and the use of illegal drugs.  On aver-age, one greyhound dies every day on an Australian race track. So this business is welcome in Taree?

Is encouraging more gambling, already a huge problem here, a good look for the area?

Do you believe a Greyhound “Centre of Excellence” will provide employment to the area when the majority of owners and breeders have their own trainers and staff?

What sort of people will this in-dustry or “sport” bring to our area? Will they spend money in restau-rants, shopping, or accommoda-tion? Are they the kind of tourists we wish to encourage to our charm-ing B&Bs, Farmstays, and develop-ing upmarket accommodation?

What other industries/ events/ tourist attractions/businesses would you like to see developed in our area to attract visitors?

Share your thoughts.

Continued from the coverContinued from the cover

strongly also, ‘This committee has discussed the preliminary proposal and has expressed concerns as to its suitability and stated, “It is con-sidered that the construction of a service station on that site would be in direct conflict with the heritage image many people have worked for decades to develop and pro-mote. Wingham`s Central Park is of historic significance and is the cen-trepiece of the town. It is bordered by buildings which complement the heritage image. We consider con-struction of a service station on the corner of the entrance to the town to be both unecessary and entirely inappropriate. Additionally, there are already several service stations in Wingham - one only around the corner from the proposed site, op-posite the Wingham Brush Public school.”

John Hancock is a new business owner in Wingham, the proprietor of the Bank Guesthouse and The Vault Restaurant and has this to say, ‘A third petrol station in Wingham is just crazy. A pretty little heritage

town with no traffic lights does not need another multi-national! We have guests staying every week up here from Sydney looking to buy property, because they want to get away from the hustle-bustle, fash-ions and fumes down south. Let’s encourage new, enterprising busi-ness investment in this town, not ho-hum petrol stations.’

So what do you think? Why do those in charge, albeit temporarily, and those with the dollars, aim for the lowest common denominator and fast bucks instead of aiming to raise the bar, think big and clev-er and inspirational? Destruction of heritage buildings removes any chance of developing them with vi-sion later.

Who do we want to attract to our towns and villages? How can we market and sell ourselves as some-thing secret and special? Yes, the roads are the pits, but that’s not the be all and end all of life as we know it in this area. Bring on the vision, the enterprise and some entrepre-neurs and smart thinkers and see where roads lead us!

MARCH 2016 3The Manning Community News

SECONDBITEWhat happens to food that isn’t sold and doesn’t meet supermarkets perfect presentation standards yet is perfectly nutritious and edible?

One couple, Ian and Simone Carson, also wondered this and came up with an

idea to form SecondBite in 2005. This national charity now rescues surplus fresh food from farmers, markets and supermarkets and re-distributes it to people in need and to date has distributed 20 million kilos of food around Australia.In 2011 they partnered with Coles Supermarkets nationally to donate fruit, vegetables, meat and bakery items which do not meet their in-store quality standards, but which are still safe and nutritious to eat. This is a national program with a

local focus, enabling communities around Australia access to fresh surplus food that would otherwise go to waste. So far Coles with the SecondBite program has provided over 10 million kilos of fresh food donations, which is over 20 million meals for people who are doing it tough in the communities all over Australia. Italy, unlike France, who at present only impose a fine upon supermar-kets seen to be wasting or dumping produce, Italy aims to combat the problem by providing incentives for supermarkets to donate their food, like -

- Offering reductions on rubbish taxes, depending on how much each supermarket gives to charity.- Waiving the need to declare food donations in advance, so that su-permarket can alter their dona-tions based on their stock and a food’s expiration date.- Providing leeway with donating food after its ‘best before’ date.“We are making it more conve-nient for companies to donate than to waste.  We currently recover 550 million tonnes of excess food each year but we want to arrive at one billion in 2016,” said Italy’s Agri-cultural Minister, Maurizio Mar-tina.

Local Food ReliefLocally, every Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday morning the Manning Valley Neighbourhood Centre (based in the old Court House in Wingham) collects bak-ery goods, bread, and fruit and vegetables from Coles through the

SecondBite project to distribute to people who need food assistance. Says Manager Caren Watkins, ‘It’s becoming increasingly difficult to meet the needs of people as gov-ernment funding was restructured a year ago even though we joined with Forster and Bucketts Way Neighbourhood Centres to re-apply for our funding as we were the main providers of food relief. However we were cut back from 40 thousand dollars a year to five. Some of the funding went to the local Samaritans and the Salva-tion Army. Though the Salvation Army is based in Sydney and you have to access it through a 1300 phone number to be assessed. We don’t place any conditions on peo-ple coming into us in Wingham. But it’s a struggle now to meet the needs of the community. We have three paid staff trained in case work and referrals to help those who are struggling in our society. Plus a lot of wonderful volunteers.

Like us, St Vincent de Paul was also defunded in this area but they still can offer assistance using their own resources.‘We can still offer a free lunch each Monday. We used to package up food parcels and have food, fuel, and electricity vouchers available. Affordable housing is impossible in our area, so if a struggling fam-ily is paying close to $300 a week rent, and trying to pay a bond or for prescriptions it means there’s not much left for food.’And with the reduced funding and government agencies handling services there seems little local funding has been earmarked for comparable community activity. The Samaritans also offer emer-gency relief food every Wednesday 11am- 1pm at St Johns Hall, Victo-ria Street, Taree and require proof of hardship like a CentreLink card. For information call Manning Val-ley Neighbourhood Centre 6553 5121.

In the Wingham supermar-ket, most customers would know the smiling face and

cheerful demeanor of Katrina Greenaway. Sometimes you see her photo in the sports pages of The Chronicle, clutching anoth-er golf trophy.

We invited Katrina to coffee (she drank water) to share a lit-tle bit of her life story.

‘I’m a local girl, born and bred, though we did move to Port Macquarie for a bit during my schooldays. But when I fin-ished Year 10 I said to Mum, “I want to move back to Wing-ham.” Mum asked why and I said because it’s a friendly town, a nice lifestyle and I love it. So my parents moved back in 1990 and we’ve been here ever since.’

Her sister Kylie stayed in Port and became a hairdresser but now works in retail at Big W. Katrina started at Wingham’s Bi Lo which became Coles and last year celebrated 25 years of service.

During this time Katrina has become a keen observer of peo-ple and most customers know her too. Having worked with “at least half a dozen managers” she must be Coles’s greatest local asset.

Katrina has never seen a ce-lebrity like Curtis Stone, the chef who does their TV ads, in store, ‘But we have a lovely old

gentleman come in at 6am ev-ery day when we open just to get his newspaper.’

Handling ComplaintsShe says she gets a kick out

of knowing all our customers, their buying habits, their fam-ilies and also helping ease the shopping experience, dealing diplomatically with customer complaints.

‘Any complaint is followed up very seriously. I also encourage people to request a favourite product if it’s been taken off the shelves. Let us know and we’ll try to get in for you.’ She is first to acknowledge if a custom-er goes in for one thing they’ll come out with at least five items. ‘I’m the same,’ she laughs.

While the big supermarket in Wingham might be the only game in town, Katrina agrees there’s a place for the organic and specialist farmers market type outlets. She’s sad to see the butcher go from Coles, but glad he’s landed in Taree where Coles will continue to cut meat.

‘Most of the meat here will come from a central source, possibly Sydney, already pack-aged ready to sell.’

And the most popular item sold?

Katrina shrugs, ‘Have to say, as it’s on sale, that it’s slabs of Coke Cola.’

Like many of us, Katrina is concerned at the waste. ‘Peo-ple complain they can’t take the fruit and vegie scraps away for the chooks anymore. Dent-ed tins, not even past their use by date have to be dumped too. The meat that’s marked down, if it registers as a minute past its’ used by date I’m not allowed to sell it.’

Katrina notes too that be-cause of our changed eating habits, how we used to eat what was available in season but now expect the produce to be avail-able all year round. ‘ Also peo-ple don’t cook as much anymore it seems, as they buy more pack-aged and prepared meals, like frozen dinners.’

Golf Fanatic Katrina works half day shifts

with one day off a week when she plays golf. And for someone so successful and devoted to the game, it’s a surprise when she says,

‘I was never sporty at school and I just fell into golf about eight years when a neighbour suggested I go and have a game. I’ll try anything, have a go is sec-ond nature to me. They showed me a couple of things and I picked up the club and swung and the ball went straight down the middle.’ She laughs, ‘That’s all I do - hit it straight down the

STRAIGHT DOWN THE MIDDLE

When you live in a small community you recognise the locals even if you don’t know them. A nod, a smile, a greeting in the street might be all you exchange.

middle. Once I stepped onto that Wingham golf course, I never looked back. I just love it.’

She took up indoor cricket as well for a time, but now pre-fers to concentrate on her golf. She plays two or three times a week “at least” as well as reg-ular “comp” events. She’s won numerous events, foursomes, match play and Katrina also sponsors a Ladies Match Day each year. She enjoys playing in tournaments up and down the coast and especially likes South West Rocks.

‘We didn’t win there last time but we had fun, so I’m going back this year to play in the Jewel of the Coast comp in November with a couple of girlfriends. I play pennants at Tallwoods, Harrington, Forster, all the local clubs. I really enjoy it and it keeps me fit.’ (As strid-ing around 18 holes several days a week would!) ‘Though if it’s a hot day I’ll treat myself to a cart.’

She lives with her Mum and Dad, cooks dinner for them all

most nights. And is happy she is able to be there for them.

‘I did live away from home for about two weeks when I was engaged but that didn’t work out so I moved back home. Ever since my brother Ryan was killed in a car accident in Syd-ney a few years back, they’ve never really recovered. It’s hard when you lose someone close to you. I have my times when I miss him, especially birth-days and such. I still get upset on my birthday as he used to always ring me, we were close. But since Ryan died, Kylie, my sister, and I have got closer. She has two beaut boys and Mum and I go up to see them in Port every second week.’

Katrina has no desire to travel overseas, ‘Well, not yet. Maybe one day.’ She’s a woman without envy, happy in her skin and with her life; ‘I love doing what I’m doing.’

And most customers would agree, Katrina is the friendly face who helps make a visit to the supermarket a cheerful ex-perience.

Katrina Greenaway celebrating her 25th Anniversary of Coles Service with Andy Coleman, Operations/ Supply Chain Director and Thinus Keeve, State General Manager, NSW.

4 MARCH 2016 The Manning Community News

A BOOK OF MEMORIES

The Cattle Drive of 2015 from Cooplacurripa to the Wingham Camp

Draft was captured on camera by Taree local, photographer Judy Lawrenson.

Judy was keen to document this current piece of history on camera to recognise the efforts of these modern day cattlemen, otherwise down the track this event may only be a memory.

Judy and her husband, Den-nis, took away many fond mem-ories and experiences from the cattle drive. These memories are now being documented for a “coffee table” photo book which is nearing completion. Over the two week journey, Judy took many photographs which have now been edited down to 200 or so photos.

The cattle drive is around 80 kilometres each way and takes one week to arrive in Wingham; then following the camp draft, a further week to return to cattle property Cooplacurripa Sta-tion in the Upper Manning that kick-started Bydand’s pastoral build-up by childcare centre en-

trepreneur and one-time jacka-roo Michael Gordon.

Each year for approximately the last 22 years, local proper-ty owners, Bill and Dan Lyon, and Darryl Spooner, with a team of dedicated drovers and their well-trained cattle dogs, drive approximately 1000 head of cattle from Cooplacurripa Station in the Upper Manning the approximately 80 kms to to Wingham Showgrounds for the Annual Wingham Camp Draft. The Bydand Pastoral Compa-ny - Cooplacurripa Station, provide the cattle for the camp draft each year.

Seasons fluctuate in the Up-per Manning, but 2015 saw good rainfall ensuring healthy cattle and plenty of grass and water in dams along the way to Wingham. The cattle stayed in traditional stock reserves over-night to freshen up for the next day’s journey of usually around 12 kilometres.

The idea behind the drive started when local property owners felt the next generation of future cattlemen were miss-ing out on the experience and

thrill of droving cattle. Now the third generation of some of those families take part in the annual cattle drive.

As Judy is undertaking this as a community project, she recognises that book publish-ing can become quite expensive and would appreciate any inter-ested parties who could assist in the publishing process to please contact her at judylawrenson@gmail.com. Also any one inter-ested in ordering a copy of the book may contact Judy on the same email address.

It was a Wingham man who set Stan on the path that changed his life.

Jim Revitt, son of Jack and Louisa Revitt, was born and grew up in Wingham. He went onto to be a journalist, newspaper editor, Foreign Correspondent for ABC radio and television. Jim later fought for and ran the ABC cadet training scheme for discovering and training young reporters in radio and TV.

Jim was keen to develop new indigenous talent and Stan was among his first cadets.

Remembers Stan, “Jim Revitt played a critical role

in my life. He took a shy, tentative young journalist and helped turn me into a television reporter. Jim had to vet me for a job at ABC TV. He put me through my paces, tested my script writing walked me through my first stand up (re-porting to camera) and bought me lunch. By the end of the day I had a job and a whole new career. He was an impossibly glamorous figure a living connection to the golden age of reporting some-one who had worked around the world and has a style and sophis-tication that I had never seen be-fore. He was always available for a chat and never stopped sending me his encouragement and ad-vice. I would not have enjoyed the wonderful experiences of my career without him.”

Here Stan Grant shares an extract from his new book ‘Talking To My Country’. In this passage, he talks about leaving his country to work overseas, and the emotional experience of returning to Australia after living and working abroad.

By Stan Grant I am above Australia now at

30,000 feet. Even from here I can feel the pull of this land: my land. I have woken from the steady hum of the plane as we pass over the red centre of Australia. It is always startling to me how the landscape resembles a dot paint-ing. How remarkable it is that people who had never flown had such an intimate understanding of country. The art of central Australia expresses a sense of place from every angle. This is what 60,000 years has given us.

When I departed from Bei-jing – thousands of kilometres away – I had my headphones on. A song was playing, ‘Walking in the Green Corn’ by Grant-Lee Phillips – a native American singer – it talks about the sim-ple joys of freedom and home. The lines of the song resonated

deeply, though it wasn’t corn I was returning to but canola and wheat. These are the colours and crops of my country. Soon I will be home.

Another song now plays in my head. It surprises me, it seems to have come from nowhere as I was staring at the dirt and spinifex far below. It is Archie Roach – an Aboriginal singer and songwriter and to my mind one of the most beautifully pure voices this coun-try has ever produced – singing the words of ‘Beautiful Child’. I am lost in these lyrics of memory and tears.

Memory and tears: I was com-ing home to it all.

Archie sang of the pain of our people. He was taken from his family as a boy and raised in fos-ter homes. He had spent years lost and homeless. There were too many cold nights warmed with grog. He lived inside the darkness of our country. But Ar-chie lit up this world and revealed the small lives that so many had never seen.

His song ‘Took the Children Away’ became the soundtrack of the Stolen Generations – ‘snatched from their mother’s breast said this was for the best – took them away’. Australians were opening their minds and hearts to people like Archie. How could anyone not? A gentle soul singing with no bitterness; this wasn’t about politics, it was about people. Our humanity had been denied. Our children had been taken under a policy that believed they would be better off white. Archie brought them home. Soon a prime minister would apologise.  Listening to Archie always moved me to tears. It would come from deep within me.

It was an open wound no space or distance could close.

Archie’s songs captured all of our experience: prison cells, missions, boxing tents, uncles and aunties, tarpaulin musters, Fitzroy and Redfern and Mus-grave Park. I knew this was real, because I knew these people; this, was me. I had gone so far from this world. I suppose I had

A DRIVE THROUGH HISTORY

Photographer Judy Lawrenson

Backflat Lane

Arriving at Wingham

STAN TALKS AND MANY LISTEN

Journalist, TV presenter and au-thor Stan Grant. Photo by Kathy Luu.

MARCH 2016 5The Manning Community News

wanted to escape it. But we never do.

At 30,000 feet flying over my country, I felt like that boy in Ar-chie’s song, growing up far too soon. I had grown up too soon, far beyond my young years. I was back now in Australia; back with those memories of the boy I used to be. There are moments that are locked away in some vault in my mind. I recall books I have read. I replay songs I have heard. Snatches of conversations from years ago can feel like yesterday. People long gone echo as if they are just in the next room.

Perhaps it is because I spent so much time alone as we moved from town to town that all of these dis-parate things resonate so deeply. I lived in my mind. Even among my siblings I felt a generation removed; thinking, staring out a car window at a world outside of our grasp. So we packed and unpacked. Some-times I wished we would stop. My sister and I played a little game where we imagined a perfect life. We would ask what would we do when we finally got a home. She would talk about watching a colour television. I would dream about lounging on a new sofa. But this was just a fantasy. My reality was my family – a revolving door of cousins and aunties and uncles and that was ultimately enough.

Some towns stand out more than others. Some memories fill me with greater joy: riding my bike outside of Jindera or playing in the wheat silos or walking along the burning train tracks leading to the pool in Griffith. There are sad memories too: a friend who was electrocuted playing on the roof of his house or my neighbour who was accidental-ly shot and killed as he carried his rifle to hunt rabbits. But I never stayed long enough for any joy or sadness to linger. There was always another town. I just kept moving.

Eventually I found a place where I could breathe. It was far from my home. The world had unex-pectedly opened up to me. For the first time in my life I felt free of race and history.

Yes, these other countries had their own hatreds and divisions; many remained defined by what separated them: India and Pakistan, North and South Korea, Israel and Palestine. But there I was an ob-server. I didn’t own these struggles. No longer did I meet people with wariness. I didn’t have to suspect the motives of friends and colleagues. When asked where I was from I could answer Australia and be proud of it. When the inevitable fol-low up question came: what race are you? I could say I was an Aborigine and say it without caution. I had no concern about how these strangers would react because we didn’t meet across the contested space of our shared past.

I have always been torn between the sadness of my history and the beauty of my country. Sometimes I can feel that the land itself under-stands this struggle. When I am alone by a river or driving across a plain I can hear this land talking to me, and it is always subdued. There is a magical connection that shows itself in unexpected ways. As I was writing this book, I received a handwritten letter. It was from a man who grew up on a property next to the Grant family homestead in Canowindra. This was the place built by my Irish convict ancestor on land he had seized from my black forebears. The man said he used to wander the land as a boy collecting old Wiradjuri artifacts. He said he had lost all of them ex-cept one. It was, he said, a beautiful stone axe and he wanted me to have it. I had never met this man. He had no idea I was writing this book. But I like to think that somehow my ancestors had chosen this mo-ment through this man to talk to me. They wanted to be with me, to tell me that my connection to them could never be broken.

I have that axe now and it sits so comfortably in my hand. There is a groove where my thumb rests. It feels like it could have been made for me. I can imagine the painstak-ing hours spent smoothing its sides, grinding it to a fine point. It looks almost too good to use, more a piece of art than an implement. Perhaps it had been traded over time, passed from one hand to another until now it rests with me.

I called the man who sent it to me. He told me about growing up

around Aboriginal kids. He went to school with them, played football alongside them. He said it wasn’t until many years later he learned that the school bus didn’t run to the missions; if the black kids wanted to go to school they had to walk in all weather. He said he realises now just how many obstacles were placed in their way, how many lit-tle things he took for granted that made life just that much more diffi-cult for his Aboriginal schoolmates. He is saddened now, he says, to see the high levels of unemployment, the drinking and drugs that have ravaged that community. In that small way with that axe he had made his connection, given some-thing back and for me opened a window into the generosity and spirit that can exist in our country.

Connections: these things that sustain me. I enjoy the little things, my family and music. I love to feel the sun in my face.

I love the feel of diving into cool water. I love my mother’s cooking. I love that my father is still with us. Nothing makes me more proud than to see my children with their friends – kids of all colours and backgrounds – comfortable and free. But I always find myself drawn back to the darkness. Sadness has always felt so much more familiar and so it is safer. We can live in its confines. We can laugh in its face. But it is preferable to happiness. Happiness feels like giving in, it feels like surrender. Happiness feels like the past is over and done and I am not yet ready for that.

Australia can be painful, but leaving for the first time, when I was in my early thirties, felt dev-astating. It seemed utterly unnat-ural. The night before my flight, I stood in the backyard of my cous-in’s house and stared at the sky. It was one of those warm autumn evenings before the cold begins to bite. Inside my family had gathered to say goodbye but I had always preferred the quiet moments alone with my thoughts. I could feel my heartbeat quickening with the re-alisation that in twenty-four hours I would be on the other side of the world. I wondered if it would look the same. Would the stars shine this bright? I knew there’d be no smell of eucalyptus and wattle. My cousin came up beside me. ‘Will you miss it?’ he asked. Yes. God, yes.

Nearly twenty years have passed since that night. I have seen war and death and disaster. I have met presidents and terrorists. I have seen inside countries cut off from

the outside world. In these coun-tries power controls people’s minds. Armies grow strong while women and children starve. I have seen a country once considered the sick man of Asia re-emerge as a rival to the greatest superpower the world has ever known. Foreign affairs an-alysts are not wrong when they say the twenty-first century will be de-fined by the contest between China and America.

I had been liberated by the world. Out here I was a person, a man of strengths and weaknesses, with good days and bad but not a man pre-judged according to his race.

I was working for one of the larg-est news networks on the planet. These were the greatest days of my career. I worked with people from all over the world. My cameramen were Iranian and Canadian and British and Australian. My produc-ers were Ethiopian and Chinese and Pakistani. These were my brothers and sisters and we would have laid down our lives for each other; I tru-ly believe that

I have known people who were killed in the field. One man who worked as an intermediary be-tween the Taliban and us, who used to bring us videotapes, was murdered in his front driveway. Another reporter went missing to be found days later beaten to death and dumped on the road outside Islamabad. Reporters were kid-napped and tortured and behead-ed. I made it back but I was not the person who left. I was battered and bent, probably broken in places. I had looked for an escape and found it in work and foreign places. Yet home – no matter how estranged I had felt – was always here. Now, 30,000 feet above my country, my head was filled with the songs of my people.

Extract from “Talking to My Country” Published by Harper Collins.

THE POINT with Stan Grant can be seen - Weeknights,  9pm on NITV. (Channel 34 & Foxtel 144 and on SBS On Demand)

Perhaps it is because I spent so much time alone as we moved from town to town that all of these dis-parate things resonate so deeply. I lived in my mind. Even among my siblings I felt a generation removed; thinking, staring out a car window at a world outside of our grasp. So we packed and unpacked. Some-times I wished we would stop. My sister and I played a little game where we imagined a perfect life. We would ask what would we do when we finally got a home. She would talk about watching a colour television. I would dream about lounging on a new sofa. But this was just a fantasy. My reality was my family – a revolving door of cousins and aunties and uncles and that was ultimately enough.

Some towns stand out more than others. Some memories fill me with greater joy: riding my bike outside of Jindera or playing in the wheat silos or walking along the burning train tracks leading to the pool in Griffith. There are sad memories too: a friend who was electrocuted playing on the roof of his house or my neighbour who was accidental-ly shot and killed as he carried his rifle to hunt rabbits. But I never stayed long enough for any joy or sadness to linger. There was always another town. I just kept moving.

Eventually I found a place where I could breathe. It was far from my home. The world had unexpectedly opened up to me. For the first time in my life I felt free of race and his-tory.

Yes, these other countries had their own hatreds and divisions; many remained defined by what separated them: India and Paki-stan, North and South Korea, Israel and Palestine. But there I was an observer. I didn’t own these strug-gles. No longer did I meet people with wariness. I didn’t have to sus-pect the motives of friends and col-leagues. When asked where I was from I could answer Australia and be proud of it. When the inevitable follow up question came: what race are you? I could say I was an Ab-origine and say it without caution. I had no concern about how these strangers would react because we didn’t meet across the contested space of our shared past.

I have always been torn between the sadness of my history and the beauty of my country. Sometimes I can feel that the land itself un-derstands this struggle. When I

STAN TALKS AND MANY LISTENJournalist/TV presenter Stan Grant is carving a new position for himself in the psyche of the Australian public. He is now standing up and claiming his identity, his culture and his future. His recent passionate speech about racism, his embrac-ing and acknowledgement of his heritage and people, his desire to help black and white Australians co-exist, and as a man, come to terms with who he is, where he’s come from and where he must now go into the future, be it media and or politics.

Wingham born, the late Jim Revitt, ABC Foreign Correspondent who first nurtured Stan’s talent.

6 MARCH 2016 The Manning Community News

CLEARANCE AUCTIONA life of collecting being dispersed – its big

Loads of unique items with lots of blokie stuffBring your trailer, your ute, your cushion & packing materials

TAREE SHOWGROUND Muldoon St

10AM - SUNDAY - 17TH April, 2016More info. – catalogue, all photos, absentee bidding…

Google – The Auction Queens Site - theauctionqueens.com.au

Ring – for further information – 0427 880 546

Many people of the Man-ning Great Lakes areas will be saddened by the

loss of a nearby resource. The big-gest Antique Centre in Newcastle has closed its doors, not because of lack of interest or sales, but because the site is to be redevel-oped as part of the new Hunter Street precinct. Their lease wasn’t renewed. The Centenary Antique Centre, situated in the heart of the C.B.D. had been open for twenty-one years. It is sad to see its demise as it was a wonderful centre and a great place to discov-er a precious find. It leaves only one large Centre, in Newcastle, The Coliseum, on Maitland Road in Mayfield. About thirty dealers display and sell their wares.

We are lucky in the Manning, as we have a number of inter-esting locations to discover new wares. Kate and Don at Olympia Antique Solutions opposite the Taree Railway Station, Barry, at Isadora’s Antiques in Victoria Street, The Valley Fair, also Vic-toria Street, Taree, Belle and Nev-ille at Old Cinema Antiques in Pulteney Street, Jenny and Eric’s Coins, Records, Collectables near Brown’s Creek Bridge, Liz at Mal’s Toy Store in Chatham – now with antiques and collectables, Sue and Anna at Delinquent Funk, Isa-bella Street Wingham and Grant Ford in the old produce store in Wingham now called Collectibles By Design. It was sad to hear that Bronwyn at Manning Collect-ables in Manning Street will be closing soon to take on new ad-ventures. Add some of these plac-es to your rounds and I hope you enjoy the search as much as I do.

Also, on the 17th April, 2016, 10am start, there will be a really interesting collection of items go-ing up for sale at a big Clearance

Auction at Taree Showground. It is my auction – I am dispersing some of my thirty years of finds. Now I am retired, the kids and Jenny are saying “You need to cull all those sheds!” So, it is time. Keep an eye out for advertising as it gets closer.

I am still collecting, but being more selective in the items I ac-quire. Many years ago at a sale where Bob Stone was auctioning in Taree, I was lucky enough to buy an outstanding bronze fig-ure of traditional Aboriginal men standing and looking out over their country. It was sculptured by Peter Sedcole and I feel he has captured the essence of the first Australians. It has held pride of place in one of our cabinets for the last fifteen years and it would be one of those items that I hope never to part with.

My adage for collecting is that when you least expect it the most interesting finds turn up. So, keep looking.

I love Australian history both indigenous and the early explora-tion leading to white settlement. Old artefacts and historical items are high on my priority list.

This hobby of collecting keeps you active (searching), keeps your mind ticking over (research and talking to many interesting people) and it is something that can be started at any age and can continue for as long as you wish. You are only restricted by your budget.

Remember, if you have items you are not sure of, I may be able to help with information and ap-praisals. Ring Rex – 0427 546 880.

I recommend collecting. Hap-py searching.

am alone by a river or driving across a plain I can hear this land talking to me, and it is al-ways subdued. There is a magical connection that shows itself in unexpected ways. As I was writ-ing this book, I received a hand-written letter. It was from a man who grew up on a property next to the Grant family homestead in Canowindra. This was the place built by my Irish convict ances-tor on land he had seized from my black forebears. The man said he used to wander the land as a boy collecting old Wiradjuri artifacts. He said he had lost all of them except one. It was, he said, a beautiful stone axe and he wanted me to have it. I had never met this man. He had no idea I was writing this book. But I like to think that somehow my ancestors had chosen this mo-ment through this man to talk to me. They wanted to be with me, to tell me that my connection to them could never be broken.

I have that axe now and it sits so comfortably in my hand. There is a groove where my thumb rests. It feels like it could have been made for me. I can imagine the painstaking hours spent smooth-ing its sides, grinding it to a fine point. It looks almost too good to use, more a piece of art than an implement. Perhaps it had been traded over time, passed from one hand to another until now it rests with me.

I called the man who sent it to me. He told me about growing up around Aboriginal kids. He went to school with them, played football alongside them. He said it wasn’t until many years later he learned that the school bus didn’t run to the missions; if the black kids wanted to go to school they had to walk in all weather. He said he realises now just how many obstacles were placed in their way, how many little things he took for granted that made life just that much more difficult for his Aboriginal schoolmates. He is saddened now, he says, to see the high levels of unemploy-ment, the drinking and drugs that have ravaged that commu-nity. In that small way with that axe he had made his connection, given something back and for me opened a window into the gener-osity and spirit that can exist in our country.

Connections: these things that sustain me. I enjoy the little things, my family and music. I love to feel the sun in my face.

I love the feel of diving into cool water. I love my mother’s cooking. I love that my father is still with us. Nothing makes me more proud than to see my chil-dren with their friends – kids of all colours and backgrounds – comfortable and free. But I always find myself drawn back to the darkness. Sadness has al-ways felt so much more familiar and so it is safer. We can live in its confines. We can laugh in its face. But it is preferable to happi-ness. Happiness feels like giving in, it feels like surrender. Happi-ness feels like the past is over and done and I am not yet ready for that.

* * *Australia can be painful, but

leaving for the first time, when I was in my early thirties, felt devastating. It seemed utterly unnatural. The night before my flight, I stood in the backyard of my cousin’s house and stared at the sky. It was one of those warm autumn evenings before the cold begins to bite. Inside my fami-ly had gathered to say goodbye but I had always preferred the quiet moments alone with my thoughts. I could feel my heart-beat quickening with the reali-sation that in twenty-four hours I would be on the other side of the world. I wondered if it would look the same. Would the stars shine this bright? I knew there’d be no smell of eucalyptus and wattle. My cousin came up be-side me. ‘Will you miss it?’ he asked. Yes. God, yes.

Nearly twenty years have passed since that night. I have seen war and death and disaster. I have met presidents and terror-ists. I have seen inside countries cut off from the outside world. In these countries power controls people’s minds. Armies grow strong while women and chil-dren starve. I have seen a coun-try once considered the sick man of Asia re-emerge as a rival to the greatest superpower the world has ever known. Foreign affairs analysts are not wrong when they say the twenty-first century will be defined by the contest be-tween China and America.

I had been liberated by the world. Out here I was a person, a man of strengths and weakness-es, with good days and bad but not a man pre-judged according to his race.

I was working for one of the largest news networks on the planet. These were the greatest days of my career. I worked with people from all over the world. My cameramen were Iranian and Canadian and British and Australian. My producers were Ethiopian and Chinese and Pa-kistani. These were my brothers and sisters and we would have laid down our lives for each oth-er; I truly believe that

I have known people who were killed in the field. One man who worked as an intermediary be-tween the Taliban and us, who used to bring us videotapes, was murdered in his front driveway. Another reporter went missing to be found days later beaten to death and dumped on the road outside Islamabad. Reporters were kidnapped and tortured and beheaded. I made it back but I was not the person who left. I was battered and bent, probably broken in places. I had looked for an escape and found it in work and foreign places. Yet home – no matter how estranged I had felt – was always here. Now, 30,000 feet above my country, my head was filled with the songs of my people.

ANTIQUES & COLLECTABLES Collect the past to invest for your future.

Aboriginal tribesmen of the Western Desert, bronze sculpture by Peter Sedcole

MARCH 2016 7The Manning Community News

Funny that. The older you get, the more the past im-pinges on the mind, and

scenes you had forgotten elbow each other for attention.I was always a show-off, need-ing to perform at the drop of a hat from eighteen months on-wards, according to my mother anyway.

Television was going to be a new phenomenon in 1956, and I was going to be a part of it if I had anything to do with it! So I entered a contest on radio 2CH in Sydney entitled ‘The Search for Miss TV’ for which I did mainly comedy, also playing the piano in a sketch for the finals. I didn’t win of course - the judg-es didn’t approve of my being mother of two, daring to spend time away from them!

Still, it was a foot in the door. In those days you actually had to have talent. I had trained in drama (a bit) in London before emigrating to Australia in 1951 to marry my fiance. I’d had sing-ing lessons, and played the pia-no, so I wasn’t entirely without talent, although I left much to be desired when I look back.

Funnily enough my first break came after going through the windscreen of my husband’s car in January 1961. With a cut-up face I joined the Revue Twenty, ten guys, ten girls, to sing in a new TV Variety show called Revue ‘61. I’d been get-ting on in the business, travel-ling with a Tibor Rudas show called ‘Oriental Cavalcade’ and doing my act in tin sheds, which were the early clubs before pok-ies. This job was something I could do, and the show was to be the biggest yet on local TV. We all had to be able to read music at sight, and I was to sing third girl - a wonderful treat to sing all those different harmo-nies under the leads - which I can still recall vividly today. We all thought television would go on to greater heights than even that show. Sadly that was not to be the case. Now that I look back on that wonderful show, it seems to have been all downhill from there.

Beauty and the BeastBy then I was in my early

thirties, and my marriage was fragile. My husband was doing very well as a floor manager on Channel Two, the ABC, and met his nemesis in the form of a dancer on the Lorrae Desmond

Show. He left me when I left the Revue Twenty, after three tu-multuous years with operations to my face and an ectopic preg-nancy which nearly killed me. There we were, me and two sons aged eight and ten, on our own. So it was a relief when Channel Seven executives got in touch with me to join a new show called ‘Beauty and the Beast’ with Eric Baume in the chair, and four beauties, who were changed around each day. I was lucky in one sense that because they only offered me the same money I was getting in the choir - about 40 quid a week - they put me in every show. Little did I re-alise that it was all about screen time, and these days anyone and everyone, providing they have their heads on telly enough, will get their five minutes of fame!

After that I joined the ‹Mavis Bramston Show›, a fast moving satairical revue with Gordon Chater and a movie star from Great Britain, Carol Raye. It was a very popular show and I later left to travel with a musical for J.C.Williamson’s ‘The Boys from Syracuse’.

My boys were sent off to En-glish boarding schools in the care of my parents, and when I came back from the musical, I joined a new channel which was just being launched. Appar-ently they had an audience sur-vey asking the public who they would like to see on the new Channel Ten, and my name had come up. So, along with Dita Cobb, from Beauty and the Beast, and Barry Crocker, we were all given our own shows, and mine was to be at the new time of twelve noon, entitled ‘Girl Talk’.

For four incredible years I ap-peared live daily at twelve, with little or no breaks in between. How I got through it all amazes me. Shows these days have hun-dreds of people running around with clip-boards under their arms, dictating what can be said and when. I had total freedom, and sometimes the shows were horrible, but sometimes, when the guests were wonderful, the shows were magic. We were the first show to travel to Hol-lywood to interview the stars. I had an incredible young pro-ducer called Judy Petrie, who managed to get interviews with people like Bing Crosby, Omar Sharif, Charlton Heston and Paul Newman. We did fifty six

interviews in nineteen days. I arrived back exhausted, had to fly to Melbourne to accept a Gold Logie, and made what must have been the worst ac-ceptance speech ever recorded.

First Female Gold LogieIn those days, the women’s

Logies didn’t mean much. In fact I believe that before then the women’s Logie was Silver - but my year they changed it to gold.

As I had also won the Bronze Logie for best female in NSW, I did rate a little mention at the bottom of the front page.

Sadly women in show busi-ness and the Arts still struggle for equal recognition.

I met some wonderful people though. I was in my dressing room when the door opened and in walked Ray Milland. A movie star I had watched and loved all my life. I was facing my large mirror as he came in and watched as my face turned an embarrassing shade of red, from the neck up! I think Ray was quite flattered though, and we had a wonderful time trav-elling up to the mountains, only to find the view fogged in! He teased me about it for the rest of the trip! My mother was visiting from the UK and was extremely impressed!

Another person who was such a delight, was Howard Keel, the movie star with the fabulous voice, who starred at the Silver Spade Room at the old Chevron Hotel at Kings Cross where the big name entertainers appeared when in town. I was one of the backing singers at that time, along with dear friend from the Revue 20 - Helen Zerefos. How-ard Keel became my first lov-

er after my husband left. I had never experienced anyone but my husband, as was the custom in those days. I quickly found though, that sex without love was, as Shakespeare put it, ‘Th’ expense of spirit in a waste of shame’ and after a few exper-iments, by 1975 I became celi-bate.

After Channel Ten let me go in 1970, and a show I co-produced called ‘Strictly for the Birds’, I free-lanced, doing a part in var-ious dramas, including Number 96, in which I (as Marie) fell in love with Vera - Elaine Lee - and parted on not very good terms with all and sundry, as I didn’t like seven-year-olds calling out, ‘ Hello Marie, are you still a les-bian?’

I did a movie called ‘The Set’ when I swam in the nude across a pool. The subsequent head-lines and publicity scared me so much I looked for an escape.

Dropping Out So soon after that I quit the

city and became one of the first so-called celebrities to buy a property in Bangalow, near By-ron Bay in the NSW Northern Rivers, where I raised goats, met Di Morrissey who was writing her first best seller, and finally, with my son Mark, ran a dinner theatre called ‘Wings’ for three more tumultuous years. After that a few TV shows in Brisbane and starring in some plays for Queensland Theatre company, driving three and a half hours each way. I also appeared in a very memorable musical, “Gyp-sy”, directed by a dreaded man named John Krummel, who punched June Salter, the star, in the face so that she left the show. We all had tee shirts made with, ‘I Survived Gypsy’ printed on them!

I was on the farm for twen-ty-one years, and have since moved to the Gold Coast, where I still occasionally pop up on telly, and still perform from time to time, the last gig being with Denise Drysdale in a dou-ble act last year, and maybe I’ll take a part in a local musical at the Gold Coast Arts Centre this year.

I still love to perform, and I love show business in spite of the struggle it has always been in this country. And don’t even get me started on the music nowadays! As a follower of the greatest jazz, like Oscar Peterson and Miles Davis, and Ella Fitzgerald, and thank heaven for Diana Krall, I despair of three notes and two words repeated for half an hour, and calling it music when it is just noise...

As for so-called reality TV. There is no such thing! All the little clip-boarders are running around telling them who must be the bad guy, who must be the stirrer, who has to muck up the situation. Give me a break!

Movies are weird too - don’t you just hate all the violence? But there I go, just showing my age.

I’m so lucky to have been there when TV was new. I re-member the greats; Graham Kennedy, Digby Wolfe, Barry Crocker, Don Lane, Bert New-ton, Lorrae Desmond, and all those who fronted the early years, before the clip-boarders appeared.

Je Regrette Rien. I made it through, and I’m still kicking. What more can an old per-former ask? But I have thor-oughly enjoyed all and every-thing about show biz otherwise I wouldn’t have put up with it these past sixty years (this year!)

THE GOOD OLD DAYS OF EARLY TELEVISIONOur first female Gold Logie Winner reminisces

by Hazel Phillips OAM

‘Write me something nostalgic,’ suggested the Editor on the phone. ‘Nostalgic!’ I replied to my friend Di (Morrissey), at my age, what else is there?’

Patiently waiting to go on stage when Hazel cheekily competed in Australia’s Got Talent in 2011. She was called at 10am and didn’t get on stage till 5.30pm!

Hazel Phillips at the premiere in Sydney of “Rosie” a musical she had workshopped in Taree.

To keep this paper running, make a donation : BSB 032102 ACCT: 007242 • Publisher and Editor DI MORRISSEY • Distribution DENYSE DIGBY • Printed by Sunne Printing, Taree • Published by The Manning Community News Pty. Ltd. Mondrook NSW Advertising Sales JOHN HANCOCK 0401 847 853 • Design & Layout NEBOJSA DOLOVACKI • Online edition: www.manningcommunitynews.com

The Manning Community News is an independent newspaper run by volunteers. It has no affiliation with any organisation, religious or political group. To advertise or contact The Manning Community News email editor@manningcommunitynews.comThis newspaper is printed on paper approved by the Forest Stewardship Council from sustainable forests using a vegetable dye ink.