Mum said to me one day, "Marge, if I'm not here and you want to marry a good Protestant is better than a bad Catholic"... Yes... And she said, "Just the same, there are some very nice men. Doesn't matter what religion". My official name really is Marie Therese. But somewhere, when I was a 'littlie', one of my brothers used to call me Little Margot, and I think out of it became Marge. My parents were share farmers outside of Casino. I don't know how long they were there, but Dad used to go into, I suppose, do shopping in Casino. It would be on a horse, there were no cars. And so when he came home this particular day, Mum was milking and he walked over to the bales and he said, "I've just bought a hotel". She threw a bucket of milk at him and Mum said he roared laughing. He just stood there. He was all dressed up in a suit. She said, "Edward, I can't lead that sort of life. I don't know anything about it". And by then they'd have had about five children. Anyhow, so they went in and 17 years later they were still there. They had the best business in town. And of course with eleven kids you need it. He was quite a comedian, Dad. And as a matter of fact he was the business but she was the one that did all the bookwork. All the finance and everything. And managed Dad as well 'cause he needed managing. He wasn't easy. I didn't think he was, but that's kids. Mum had a fernery just out back of the hotel and this fellow who had been drinking at the bar. There's always a couple of characters, you know, in country towns. He walked out and Mum used to put this hose and she'd should put it on spray, you know, for the ferns. And he walked out and he said to Dad, "It's raining Ted". And Dad said "It is". He said "I'll get you an umbrella" and Mum said "Edward, that's your best umbrella. What are you doing?" He said "It's worth it for the laugh". And anyhow, the fellow with the umbrella striding up the road. And I believe he lived a long way out. And his wife said, "What's with the umbrella? A beautiful sunny day". And he said "Ted Kearney said it was raining". We laughed about that. Yes, he was a funny man, Dad, but then as he got older, he wasn't... you know, I'd say... In those days they worked hard, they played hard. We kids had our own table over in the corner and the waitress would stand there, "Roast beef, corn beef, pickled pork". I'd say "Oh I don't want any of that". And now think I'd kill for it, you know. We were actually very spoiled. I didn't do without at all as a child because, on account of Mum and Dad being in the hotel business. I said, "Mum what happened during the Depression"? And she said "The hotels were the last to suffer". And I think beer was threepence or sixpence. And she said, "But I always had a big pot of soup on the stove". And they were all wood stoves, you know, no electricity in the kitchen and so she said, "They'd drink in the bar but I always made sure that there was some bread and soup for them when they came out". Dad and Ted, one of my eldest brothers, they were responsible for getting into greyhound racing on the far north coast. So when the racing was on, everybody went. Plus children. "Come on kids, we're going to the dogs". "I don't want to go to the dogs, Mum". "Well, you'll be here on your own at the hotel you have to come". And Dad would... there'd be a queue and... "Hello Ted. You got all the family with you". And my sister Kath was standing there with a sausage, you know. Hot dog. And she's standing there and Kath was always vague. You know, quite vague. And she's standing there and an old greyhound just came along and very nicely took it off her and wandered off. St Mary's School in Casino were 'The Sisters of No Mercy' I always say. They were! They were tough and they were intimidating, I mean they never smile at you... Like "Good morning sister". "Naughty Marge". You know, that's how they were. Every year the vaudeville show used to come to town. The tent shows, and they used to stay at the hotel. And I said to Mum one time. I'd be about 12. "Mum, dear I'd love to go away with them". And she said, "Marge, would you live in all that sawdust and all that carry on?" And I said, "Yeah, I would". And she said, "But you have to go to school". I said they have school in there. There was one show, the George Sorlie Show and I believe Mr Sorlie used to coach the kids at school. But ah yes, I'd I'd love to be on the stage. I would really love to be in something like that. Every Saturday we'd go into Lismore, into town, with the horse and sulky and then so okay, we had to sing and they were always sad songs. "I wish I had someone to love me..." You know, they were all dreary songs and the letter edged in black. "Come on now, come on 'littlies'". Yes and they would sit on the seat on the floor of the sulky. Oh dear oh dear oh dear. It was a lovely life. Yes, I moved to Murwillumbah in 1937 and lived at the Australian Hotel. Mum and Dad bought a lease of that and during the war, 41 to 45 I think, and the whole of the 32nd Division, Americans, were camped outside Brisbane. Consequently, they used to come down to Murwillumbah, the nearest towns... they'd go over to Lismore. A girlfriend of mine who was running a hotel in Lismore rang me one day. She said, "Marge, what are you doing on the weekends?" "Nothing much". "Well I've got a half a dozen Americans over here. Will you come over and help me entertain them?" That's how it was. They used to love to get to dance. They were catered for quite well. So they stayed a lot at our hotel. Matter of fact I had a proposal of marriage. Will I ever forget it? And he said to Kath, "I'm going to ask Marge to marry me". And Kath said, my sister, "Well you can forget all about that John. Just get that idea out of you mind". He said, "But do you speak for Marge?" She said "This time I do. She's not going to America". It was funny, yeah. Neither I would have gone. I remember I was 19 when I got the first smack over my ears. It was 4 o'clock in the morning and of course I didn't have a watch and we were all just sort of sitting around at Coolangatta And of course we had no idea... Who cares about time when you're young and when I got home, Mum's room was next to mine and she came in and she just... Oh, and of course, the next morning, I wouldn't speak to her and that would never, ever, ever happen. And she said, "Aren't you talking to me love?" I said, "You hurt my pride more than anything. You have ever hit me in your life". She said, "I had you dead on the road. It was 4 o'clock Marge". She said, "One day you are going to marry and... just this thing could happen to you". I was a flirt. I was always flirting around... In country towns you, sort of, you just didn't see any strangers. You just had to rely on local people. But the War time was lovely. That was pleasant. Pleasant with all the company. Officers were camped out at Fingal. They used to call it Camp Fingal... the Americans, the officers who'd come down from the islands with malaria, and then they'd come up to the hotel of a night time and with their beautiful suits, you know, that you see, with their buttons and everything. Oh dear they used to look lovely and they were lovely men. This business of oversexed and over here. That was a lot of rot. They were very, very nice people - any of the Americans we had staying at the hotel. Yeah... I loved their music. They would come down with a 16 piece band in the little old School of Arts in Murwillumbah. It was a beautiful sound. They would play on the lawn of the Coolangatta Hotel. I just love beautiful music and Mum would hire a taxi. There was one in Murwillumbah. It used to seat nine people, She'd say, "Okay, put your name down because I'm hiring a taxi to go down to listen to the Americans and ohhh... that was a lovely time. Consequently, I was so busy enjoying myself... I didn't know anything about what was happening about the War. And now on SBS, there's a lot of information about the Nazis and the camps and things. And I'm just glued to... Is that what happened? This is way I feel. Yes, it was terrible. I can remember... the powerhouse when the signal blew the day War was ended. And I was getting ready to go to work and I just grabbed my uniform and raced downstairs. Murwillumbah had trucks going all around. You could get on anything just to celebrate, you know, the War was over. And I had a nice romance going in Murwillumbah before the war. I think he was 20 and I was about 19 and we were very fond of each other. But when he came home, he'd lost all his hair. He just didn't look the same. And what I think, fickle old me, instead of thinking what a lovely man he was, I was more worried about his looks, and anyhow, I just said I didn't want to continue. And I can remember... and Kath, my sister, used to say, "God, you're... How could you do that Marge?" I said, "Well, I couldn't marry him just for the hell of it". And he cried. He was up there and he cried, and I felt terrible about that but just the same that's life isn't it? I did my apprenticeship for hairdressing in Murwillumbah and then I finished up managing one salon on my own and then I married. A local boy. Kath, my sister Kath, said, "I think you married him, married Bede, because he looked like Clark Gable". He did a bit too. I think I stirred the pot a bit when I came into the family. Bede's mother, one of her friends said to her, "She comes from a hotel you know?" She's breaking the news to Nana that Bede was going out with this girl [whose] people had a hotel. Like I say I was some wanton female, I suppose. Yes, that was quite funny. I think it's far too lenient now, before marriage. And yet I think perhaps... I don't know how to put it... It's a difficult question because sometimes people are going out together and they have sex. It's a personal thing I think that seems to be... 'try before you buy' sort of business probably. But it was unheard of in my day I remember when I was signing out in the sacristy and I had to sign... And I hated losing my name but they don't today, you know. I didn't have any objection. I thought it was rather romantic really, changing over to your husband's name. And that's what you did. Once you got married, you didn't go back to work. You didn't have any money. But the housewife was well and truly to the fore. Well and truly. But now, everybody... Couples work don't they? My first child... I fell pregnant on my honeymoon. I couldn't believe it. And when I came home, everybody said, "Hello! How are you?" I said, "I'm pregnant. That's how I am". Oh, God, I couldn't believe it. Well, she was born a Down Syndrome, which was a big blow. And because Mom had gone, she had passed away, so it was pretty hopeless, really. And so that part of life was pretty sad, was a lot of work. And my husband was no help. I left Murwillumbah when I was 32. We went to Sydney, the girls and I. And there's five years between Julie and Kate. But they've been great, no troubles at all. No troubles. Just lovely girls.