Leo Goodfellow
A Motoring History
“My life has been enriched by cars,” says Leo Goodfellow when I meet him at his Safety Beach home. His wiry frame, full head of salt and pepper hair and quick wit belie his 85 years, although once he starts to talk about automobiles it’s obvious he’s outlived many a motor company.
With considerable pride Leo tells me, “I’ve had 64 cars that we can account for.” Over two hours of rambling reflection we touch on many of those vehicles and the critical roles they have played in Leo’s life.
Carmell Chester
A Spiritual Journey
“It wasn’t a good time to reincarnate,” Carmell Chester tells me, recounting her birth in January 1945. It was quiet in Sydney’s beachside suburb of Maroubra when Carmell let out her first cries, but on the beaches of Europe war still raged.
Sixty-nine years later, sitting cross-legged on the front porch of her Halfway Creek Cottage, the wind chimes ringing out their haunting tones, crystals glinting in the afternoon sun, Carmell is able to joke about the bad omens of her birth. She imagines the spirits lining up for their return to earth and arguing, “You go.” “No. The war is still on, you go.” Even Saint Jude’s hospital where she came into the world was named after the patron saint of lost causes.
MIPIK's Weekend of Photography
At the end of May some of your favourite MIPIK characters convened on a small cottage at the back of Bruxner Park for a weekend long photography shoot.
The reason? … MIPIK is shaping up to publish a book!
Featuring 25 of the 60+ stories that have been published in the last three years, the MIPIK book will go on sale starting in October – and of course it will include all new photographs.
The wonderful Raymond Mather from Cr8Studios was behind the camera and has produced some exceptional shots (which of course you can’t see until the book is finished).
Kelly McLoughlin-Wilden
The hallways are nearly empty as I am escorted into the Radio 2CS broadcast studio. The Southern Cross parking lot seemed empty when I pulled up, but from the studio window I can see a lone white 4WD, “EJ and Kel for Breakfast” emblazoned across the bonnet and doors.
As I take a seat in the corner of the studio, Kel checks the computer screens on the wall beside her and glances at EJ. “Ready?” EJ nods, pulls the doorstop and the heavy metal door swings shut. For a moment it’s hard to breath: the black, soundproofed walls seem to be closing in on this tiny room.
But the air conditioner kicks in, the mics go on and EJ starts talking. “Good morning Coffs Harbour. It will be a sunny 24 degrees today. Warm enough for you Kel?”
Mark Flanders
Guardian of Knowledge
The skies loom dark and threatening as we stand on the bluffs overlooking Moonee Beach on NSW’s mid north coast. My husband and I have braved the weather forecasters' dismal predications, along with 16 other locals, all white, mostly middle aged, to find out more about the landscapes and history of our own backyard.
Mark Flanders, Aboriginal Discovery Ranger with National Parks, will be our guide along a section of the 60km Solitary Islands Walk. He starts here on the Moonee Bluffs by explaining that this is a special place. “That’s obvious,” I think to myself, admiring the splendor of the wind swept dunes and the empty, white sand beach below, stretching to the dark, simmering sea.
Kuei Manyoun
The Secret to Kuei's Success
The African Hair Braids salon is a difficult place to conduct an interview. Officially closed to deal with the effects of overnight flooding, the salon is still a hive of activity. Staff bustle to get the floors cleaned and stock dried out. Friends and family drop by to say hello. Passers by stop in to ask about the price of hair extensions or to book appointments.
Kuei Manyoun, the salon owner, seems unfazed by the activity around her. Despite her uniform, Kuei looks like an African queen: statuesque and serene, her crimped raven hair tamed by a tortoise shell hair clip. She quietly beckons me to a seat where we can talk, while she keeps a watchful eye on activities.
Pip Gordon
Finding Connection
Pip found what she was looking for in the Aboriginal community of Toomelah, near Boggabilla on the floodplains of far north New South Wales.
“It wasn’t the sort of place I’d ever been before. It was raw, but real. Not like the suburbs with our white picket fences where everything is hidden,” she says.
Here in this home to the Gamilaroi people, Pip Gordon, white woman with all the western trappings, regained a sense of belonging that had been lost. “Being with the women in their community I found my way back to my own spirituality.”