Beruflich Dokumente
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W.M.: Wor. Bro. Ken Corley, 25 Cupania Street, Mudjimba 4564 Ph: 5448 7233
Secretary: Wor. Bro. Stig Hokanson, 2/17 Rising Street, Shailer Park. 4128 Ph: 3209 9172
Almoner: Bro. Terry Omiros, 2/136 Fernberg Road, Paddington. 4064 Ph. 3876 4676
Dir of Cer.: Wor. Bro. Bob Cook, 19 Gloucester St., Acacia Ridge. 4110 Ph: 3277 3625
Back Row: L to R:
Gus Brown, Allan Alexander, Alf Lowther, Ned Kenyon, Wally Goddard, Ken Corley, John Eva, Barry Triffett,
Stig Hokanson, Alec Hoare, Len Riddle, Bill Bebbington, Jack Parks.
Front Row: L to R. Merv Tucker (J.D.), Cam Pryde, Cyril Franks (S.D), Dave Cochran, Gordon Casey, Phil LeBrocq (Treas), Ray Powell (W.M),
Stan Booth (Sect.), Dave Portley (I.P.M), Jim Nicolls, Jim Robinson, Tom Sellers, Harold Jobst (Chap.), Lock Adam (D.C),
Tom Sheldrake (Organist), Lou ODonnell.
A SIGNIFICANT FIND
Quite a few people have heard of the
poem The Spider on the River Gwydir. It
is humorous tale about a drunken shearer,
saved from possible robbery by a spider
that lived in a Jones jam tin at the
Showground of Moree.
The Gwydirs meandering headwaters are
situated west of Armidale and Guyra on
the New England Tableland. The Gwydir
Valley is located west of the Great
Dividing Range, within the MurrayDarling drainage system. It is bounded by
the Mastermans Ranges to the north, the
Great Dividing Range to the east and the
Nandewar Range to the south. East of
Moree is where one finds Bingara, a
quaint rural hamlet of 1300 souls.
Freemasonry arrived early in this area. By
1904 the townsfolk had built an
impressive brick Temple. A regular visitor
to Bingara for the past forty years I had
been unsuccessful in co-ordinating my
schedule to coincide with Lodge Gwydirs
No. 211 monthly meetings. On many
occasions I have missed their meetings by
only a day or two.
Recently I was again walking near the
banks of the Gwydir when I spotted the
Temple door ajar, people mingling inside.
I scurried across Finch Street and came
upon a gathering of ladies attempting
quilting in the searing +42C heat. To my
great disappointment I was to learn that
Gwydir Lodge No.211 no longer exists.
The Temple, which had formed such an
impressive landmark over the years, was
now owned by the Gwydir Shire Council,
let out to community groups such as the
local quilters, amateur thespians and other
interest groups.
I was welcomed to inspect the Temple. Its
tessellated pavement was covered in
droppings from birds nesting in the
ceiling. Its once proud columns were piled
in a store room, covered in cobwebs;
lodge furniture appeared in a similar
neglected state. Theres some mason
stuff in that cupboard over there said a
sinewy woman, temporarily suspending
her quilting.
I was given a key and opened a creaky
cupboard door. Silver fish and
cockroaches made a hasty retreat. Dusty
apron cases lay scattered on the bulging
shelves. Eleven lodge collars, gauntlets
and other mementoes of Gwydir Lodges
halcyon days hanged like silent sentinels
from rusty hooks. Opening some of the
to
an