I recall a couple of kids, one having the name of Blue Duck or White Duck something like that, the other coming from down the butter factory area. Maybe you can recall who they were.

This day, they decided to have some target practice (shooting) on a farm up Chatsworth Road. Blue Duck had access to a pea rifle.

They drew a target on a corrugated iron wall, went back thirty metres and started to fire away. (Blue/White Duck’s parents were away).

After having all the practice they required and praising one another about their great skill and checking the target around the bulls eye, they heard a noise coming from behind the iron. Quickly they rushed around to see what it was making a slight whimper. To their amazement and shock they saw a large white sow (pig) lying on the ground with a few slugs in it, and surely on its way to heaven.

Knowing they had an enormous problem, particularly after the sow died, the boys decided they must get rid of it before the family came home and thought the best thing was to bury the pig.

Digging in the stony rises was a hard caper. Two hours later they decided the hole was deep enough, but how do we get the sow in? Using the little grey tractor and hooking the sow on, they dragged the pig into the hole and covered it with all the rocks and dirt they dug out. They had done a good job. Nobody would ever know.

Blue/White Duck’s father travelled all over the farm for days on end looking for the sow, bewildered by its disappearance.

They were right. Nobody would ever know. Mickey could never fathom how he could lose a pig that was penned up. He had no idea where the pig went to.

He believed the pig to be stolen.

Can you recognize the faces. Click on photo to enlarge, then click again. (full screen photo)

Photo Gallery

Same thing every Saturday morning 9am to 12 noon, go next door to Rev. Hill’s house, cut his lawn, weed the garden, a general clean-up, payment 10 shillings for the morning.

Sometimes my younger brother, Rodney would come with me but he always got bored and spent his time having snail races on Rev. Hill’s front verandah.  Sammy put up with this for a few weeks then politely told him not to come around the following or any other Saturday.  (But God works in mysterious ways, Sammy.)

The following week the usual took place – lawns, weeding, clean up.  However, this week-end was a little different.  General clean-up work was burning rubbish, piling up, burning, stoking the fire, more rubbish.  Finally, 12 o’clock approached (you beauty), nearly time to knock off.  Sammy said, “put those hot coals against the iron so the wind won’t blow them around, then you can finish”.

Lunchtime at home, getting ready for an afternoon of tennis (I used to love my tennis) with the Derri No. 1′s.  We were in second place on the ladder and needed this win to move to top position.  My thoughts were totally focussed on the match.  Then, suddenly, the town fire alarm went off.  We jumped to our feet, went outside, but couldn’t see anything.  Back inside to finish lunch.

The fire truck siren started blaring, getting closer and closer.  Better have another look, I thought, with the siren sounding as if it were in our yard.  Stepping outside, we saw smoke billowing from next door and rushed over. Rev. Sammy’s garage was on fire.  The fire truck sprayed water everywhere but to no avail.  The garage was up in flames.

My next thought – “How did it start?” – didn’t take long to figure out it started exactly where I had placed the hot coals!  (Only doing what I was told!  “Place the hot coals near the iron so the wind won’t blow them around”).

Rev. Sammy, running around with his hand held hose, got a glimpse of me, saying I had no right to put the coals there.  (The word was getting around – Northey the fire-bug).  Then someone had the bright idea to open the garage doors.  When they did, flames leapt everywhere.  To our astonishment there was the Rev. Sammy’s brand new FJ Holden (3 weeks old) in the garage and well on fire also.  By the time the flames had been brought under control the car was completely gutted.  I decided to take off – get to the tennis courts quickly – the worst game I had played – we lost – still in second place – Rev. Sammy left with no garage, no car – not a great day for any of us.

Thankfully, the Authorities didn’t put me in gaol.  It appeared to be Rev. Sammy’s fault as much as mine.  But for the next month, the reminder was still there in front of Urquhart Motors – Sammy’s gutted new FJ with a sign “ARE YOU INSURED?”

As I said, God works in mysterious ways.  Perhaps had Rodney been allowed to finish his snail races this may never have happened.

Signed:  Firebug

Each time the night cart came around I always seemed to be in the toilet. (10 yrs old)

This fellow in this role would bang viciously on the wall and frighten the day lights out of me (if not everything else) he of course was letting everyone know he was around and would be making the swap, filled for empty. I jumped off the seat quickly, stood (shorts still around my ankles) and wait for the interchange to take place, then replace myself.

After many annoying inconvenienced moments I believed it was pay back time, with the help of my brother Rodney (7 Yrs old) we devised a plan of attack. Between our yard and our neighbour’s was a low lying wire netting fence which the night carter had to step over it to get to the next dunny to replace the can.

The idea was after the replacement of the can had taken place (heavy load), the night carter returning to the fence and taking his first step to go over the fence, we would have a pulley on the wire which would raise the fence approx 6 inches as he took the second step we would pull the wire and trip him over.

After many trials all appeared in readiness for this famous event, however the night carter seemed to come when we were at school.

After a month of setting the trap, while having dinner we heard the night carters truck coming down the back lane, I looked at Rodney,  he looked at me and like mandrake we disappeared from the table.

This was now serious business, (gentlemen take up your positions)

Crouching in our positions the footsteps got louder and louder, stepping over the fence the night carter made the exchange ( the heavy load, a burden on his shoulders) one step over the fence, then the other leg high in the air following, with all out strength pulling the lever hard the wire jerked tight into place and “BINGO” the foot was snagged.

Stumbling one step after the other (the can riding high on the night carters shoulder) still trying desperately to regain his balance, would he make it or not, another staggering step followed by another quicker step then VICTORY, the contents went sailing through the air landed on the lawn directly outside our back door.

Night carter couldn’t believe his eyes, you could see thoughts run through his mind, I have been over that fence hundreds of times, how could that happen.

Almost simultaneously when all the goods had just landed Mum stepped out the back door, before she could say anything, Night carter offered his sincere apology saying lady “I’ve had a terrible accident a terrible accident”. Night carter was rushing around looking for a shovel and broom to clean up.

As we brothers hid behind the fence shaking hands and giving congratulations all round and trying not to be heard. We had to have once more peek, raising our eyes above the fence line we caught a glimpse of our mothers eyes, more to the point she caught a glimpse of our eyes, suspecting we had been sprung for this terrible deed, we were greatly relieved when Mum called out, “quickly boys get the hose for the man, he’s had a terrible, terrible accident”. Sheer delight took over both of us; we had just had a glorious victory. The night carter never bothered me anymore with his banging on the wall.

I was determined to repay the night carter for frightening the daylights out of me and did, successfully.

Young swooper and his younger brother Rodney

Wellman Ray (Feb 2009)

Reliable Half Back of the fifties.

Went on to be Secretary as well as  President (Premiership Year ) and a supporter for many many years.

His nips of sherry at 3/4 time were legendary, his presence around the club was enjoyed by players of all ages.

Ruggles Harry (Feb 2009)

Strong ruckman for many years.

Captain & Coach, President, Trainer and prominent fund raiser.

Played for Golden Point in the Ballarat Football League and Camperdown in the Hampden League.

Winner of Derrinallum Dyer Trophy Best and Fairest award in 1956.

Premiership player for Derrinallum 1960.

Most thankful Harry was on our side.

Rochfort George (Feb 2008)

Popular Half back flanker of the 60′s.

George possessed a great turn of speed and was known for his strong dashes down the ground.

Respected Secretary or the Club.

McLachlan Les (Bones)

Lightly framed Ruckman who was a strong mark.

Played many games for the Tigers, was a member of the 1960 Premiership team.

Coached the Derrinallum Reserves for several years after he finished playing senior football at Derri.

Famous for his instructions when starting training “takem around fellas” as the cigarette butt fell to the ground.

O’Brien Leo

Playing member of the 1960 premiership side.

A strong marking CHF a wonderful kick and scored many goals, strong ground player.

Created many opportunities for his team mates.

Poole Maurice  (Jacko)

Pacy winger and a great kick.

Playing member of the 1960 Premiership team.

Excellent player who rarely missed training.

Woods Ron

Strong  vigorous Centre Half Forwards.

Great mark and superb drop kick.

Only played in seasons 1958 and 1959. Became a very vocal supporter.

Responsible for naming Les McLachlan “Bones”

Friends of football (grass roots) is a concept arranged by Jack Elliott and Graeme Fenton.

Jack a former coach and a long time resident of Derrinallum.

Update: New Photographs! scroll down.

Graeme,like Jack is a dual premiership player and has been until recently a life long resident at Derri (moved to Ballarat) and a pillar of the community.

The Derri FC meet annually, generally in Geelong which is a central point. As one can appreciate (after a couple of beers) the kicks were longer, marks greater than ever, general play improves 100% and we could lick any of the sides playing today.

As we all get older it is great to catch up with all your old mates and friends. Friends are important.

Maybe you can recognize a few of the famous Derrinallum FC names from photos below who attended this special function.

Derrinallum FC 1960 Premiership Players Backrow Former Coach, Graeme Bourke (Winger 1st year senior footy) Dinny Carroll (Utility Mr fix it) Col McClure (Bench Impact player) Jack Doolan (Back Pocket Hard & mean,Smiling Jack) John Scott (Full forward, John Coleman like skills) Terrence Pemberton (Very talented on baller) Noel Pemberton (Bench. BP most reliable) Graeme Fenton (Cheeky winger & on baller, started many a blue) Jack Elliot Capt/Coach (Centreman, One of the most talented players in the Western Plains Comp. Brilliant player, Premiership player with the Ballarat FC) John Northey (1st year senior footy) Mascots Darby Johnson (Salesman, Gift of the gab) Wayne Elliott (son of coach, GM Geelong Grey hound racing)

JN with Jack Elliott (My First senior coach) & Brian Williams (My first Junior coach)

JN with Jack Doolan, ruthless Back Pocket player. Winner of Umpires award.

Other attendees over last two years.

Anderson Barry
Bourke Graeme “Bourkie”
Carroll Dinny
Doolan Jack
Elliott Jack
Elliott Wayne
Everett Kenney:Wormey”
Everett Norm
Featherstone Alf
Fenton Graeme “Gray Go”
Fisher Gordon
Fisher Barry “Hooker”
Fitzgerald Paul “Fitzy”
Fitzgerald Gerrard “Fitzy”
Gellie Des “Black Duck”
Gellie Graham “Crow”
Gellie Colin
Henderson Neil “Hendo”
Johnstone David “Darby”
McClure Colin “Click”
Morrison Jack
Northey Bob
Northey John “Swooper”
Pemberton Noel “Tubby”
Pemberton Terry
Ruggles Phil
Ruggles Harry “Henry”
Ruggles Peter
Ryan Ray “Dodger”
Scott John “Scottie”
Smith Barry “Smithie”
Taylor Ray “Boozie”
Williams Brian
Williams Gary “Willie”

Photogallery