Tamborine Mountain

There’s something about the mountain air.

Tonight, I met up again with Geoff Baldwin and with Wikky and Geoff’s wife, and with Phillip, who’s a bloke who spends his life helping veterans.

They are the most amazing people.

Phillip asked me, would I want to say something tomorrow at the memorial.

They kept slipping and saying “funeral.” There was a community collection for Tommy, which is why he was buried not cremated. But he didn’t have a funeral. He had no money and no family, so the beautiful people on this mountain clubbed together and buried him.

In a way, I feel like this is his funeral.

I can’t tell you how moved I am by the fact that people I know nothing of have got together to arrange this.

I sat in the bowls club tonight with a man who was his second best friend. He got to remembering Tommy and the tears started falling down his cheeks

They are playing the last post tomorrow, there is an actual buguler. They have a piper and a representative from the military. They have WW2 veterans coming too.

And all that history, all that meaning and significance, in the middle of all of that, they have asked me to speak.

I am honoured.

Not in like a “oh, I’m so honoured” kind of way.

I am honoured.

I’m going to speak for less than 5 minutes. I’m going to hold it together.

I’m going to remember that if Denis / Tommy were here, he would have taken the mick if I shed a tear for a man I never even knew.

The man they describe, he would have said “you pompous bastards, you do what you like at the cemetery, just buy me a pint at the bowls club after.”

I hope he would, secretly, have been proud


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