Impromptu Speeches at the O’Brien Commemorative Lunch
Kate Landsberry, Darryl Brown and Tony Strachan
Words from Kate Landsberry
Kate Landsberry (right)
Hi, I’m Kate Landsberry, Gwen’s daughter.
I’d like to share a few of my memories of Tilbuster. As a girl from the suburbs of Sydney, it was an enormous adventure to head out of the city and take the road up to Armidale with Mum, my brothers, and likely Aunty Anne, Aunty Claire and family in tow. Perhaps my memories are not entirely accurate, but the essence is so true.
I can’t tell you how exciting it was as we turned into Tilbuster and headed down the long tree-lined driveway. I remember blazing autumn colours on the trees, and leaves that made a patchwork carpet - but that could be more imagined than memory?
I do remember the drive opened up to the sprawling country homestead with verandas, nooks and crannies housing beds and people everywhere. And the huge living room where we all sat, on couches, dining chairs or floor, reciting the rosary with an almost sing-song lilt, as tortoise‑shell or plastic rosary beads click-clacked their way through fervent fingers. And Aunty Anne loudly articulating each A-MEN.
Over in the corner, the table was just waiting for us, laden with cakes, cream sponges and slices, with country blowflies circling to get in first!
The Tilbuster “spread”
Shayne spoke of breakfasts and I, a cornflake, toast and vegemite girl, was sure a pig was killed each morning for Aunty Celia to satisfy the bottomless hunger of those country men! I was a girl who loved movies particularly westerns with heroes like John Wayne – gruff hardworking men. Uncle Jack reminded me of them. Though I was always a bit scared of his gruffness, I also absolutely loved it, along with his stories, humour and rugged wild-west movie star looks.
But the very best memory was when I was perhaps 13 or 14. We were at a family wedding, up Tilbuster way I believe, with the reception in a hall with a wooden dance floor. Uncle Jack asked me to waltz with him. It was the first adult I had danced with. He whizzed me around the floor so amazingly fast that I thought I would fly!
I’ll never forget that dance, or the wonderful world of the Tilbuster O’Briens.
The Tilbuster O’Briens and partners
Words from Darryl Brown
Darryl Brown (left)
I'm Darryl Brown, Joan and Keith's son. We lived in Armidale and ran a corner store, which was open from 8.30 to 8.30, 7 days a week. As a result, we spent Christmas and many other times at Tilbuster.
I agree with Shayne completely - Celia had two serving sizes - 'Big, and Bloody Big'. I think that expression was coined by Kevin.
Kate also hit the mark with her comments about breakfast. As well as the meats and eggs that she mentioned, there was a pile of buttered toast in the slow combustion oven, and jugs of freshly squeezed orange juice - these were just starters while Celia finished getting the rest of breakfast ready. There was also a huge pot of porridge bubbling away. The Browns had a special dispensation from Celia that we didn't have to do all the breakfast courses.
I have so many great memories of Tilbuster, we were always welcomed by the whole family, and included in farm life:
Lambing - watching births, and hand feeding the orphan lambs.
Shearing - climbing into the huge wool bale press to stamp the fleeces down, your hands ended up very soft from the lanolin in the wool.
Milking - Jack squirting a very young Vanessa with milk from the cow's udder. We have that, and a lot of other film of life at Tilbuster, on family movies that Dad took. It's been transferred to DVD, and Rob has a copy, so I'm sure clips will appear on the O'Brien Clan website in the near future.
It was a privilege to be part of the Tilbuster O'Brien family while I was growing up, and I thank you all for that.
Celia and her nine children
Tony Strachan
Words from Tony Strachan
Hello all, I have a stor…
[Elizabeth O’Brien interjects: “Introduce yer bloody self!”]
Ahh, sorry…I’m Tony Strachan, Mary O’Brien’s eldest…I heard a story a few years back about Uncle Jack’s tennis strategies at Tilbuster. He used to play his younger sons in his middle years and one of them told me his memory of one particular match with his dad. He was fourteen at the time and was beating the old man 5 games to 2. Michael was smiling as he served for what he believed would be the winning game of the set. He had him at his mercy at last.
First ball of the game and Jack returned the ball with a mighty whack that sent it high over the chicken wire fencing and way down the hill towards the barn.
“Hey Mike, go and fetch the ball, there’s a good son.”
Well, Mike sprinted down the hill, and after a search in the brambles and shit, he sprinted back up the hill, returning to the court puffing like a steam train with the cod in his hand.
“Thanks son. You look a bit tired.”
Mike resumed serving and his dad won the second point. Same on the third. It was soon 3 to 5. Twenty minutes later Jack had won the set 7 to 5.
Cousins from 4 families at Tilbuster
Written and delivered by Kate Landsberry, Darryl Brown and Tony Strachan, last updated 13 July 2023