Spent quite a bit of writing time today chasing up an elusive character to place in the correct generation. I was just beginning to think I'd lost it and no such person had ever existed when, voila, I see the light. It's funny how, the closer to the generation that is my stopping point, the more difficult it is to access accurate information.
Another excerpt form Eugene's story.
Our family were all strict Catholics. Each month a priest and nuns would come out from Deloraine to conduct mass at Rubicon Bridge State School s there was no church in the district until one was built on the main highway later. Attending these services were compulsory for our religious teachings. There was a small Methodist church in the area and a minister would come to Elizabeth Town to conduct services. We were inquisitive as to what went on in this church and went along one Sunday to see for ourselves. Of course we had to sneak away from home to do this, but enjoyed the service very much and one day they us a copies of the New Testament to take home. Well, our world just about came to an end. The books were promptly burnt and we were forbidden to ever go there again. We were also grounded for a long time.