Tony Pellegrino shares his memories

Dad came to Australia in 1920 at the age of 20.

He was married to his first wife and they had a baby boy named Paul.

Unfortunately, his wife died not long after and Paul was raised by Dad’s mother, Concetta.

As a child, Dad did not get to go to school.

He was the eldest of eight children and had to work with his father.

At the age of six he would drive two bullocks and cart to deliver goods to nearby towns while his father delivered to the bigger towns.

Dad’s father died fairly young and the poverty in Italy was extremely bad.

So, Dad decided to immigrate to Australia to make a better life, make some money and send some back to Italy.

He left Italy by ship. It took 44 days and he was seasick for 42 days!

He had 10 shillings in his pocket and arrived in Melbourne, where he stayed at a boarding house for a little while, before going to Ballarat.

He got some work milking cows by hand and growing potatoes and onions, working for Mr Prendergast.

Mr Prendergast was initially hesitant to employ Dad and his fellow workers, but they were great workers and were told they could come back and work any time.

So the following year, Dad returned with his brother-in-law Nicola Campanelli, working for Mr Prendergast.

In addition, Mr Prendergast gave them a few acres to farm for themselves, growing onions, which gave them a good start.

Dad bought a B.S.A motorbike with the help of Mr Prendergast. He also got his licence.

He often told the story that they wanted to go to the pictures, but the only problem was that there was four of them.

So they had to put a plank on the back of the motorbike and one on the front.

They rode around the farm and thought this might work, so they set off to the pictures.

They were going along okay until they came to a bend and ran off the road into a ditch.

Dad also worked on the O’Shannassy dam, clearing land of stumps and trees, any farm work, cutting chaff and wood cutting.

In 1932, he moved to Echuca with his brother-in-law Dominic Taverna, growing vegetables.

Mum and her family immigrated to Australia in 1934 with her father Salvatore, mother Teresa, sister Nina and brother Charlie. They settled at Echuca Village.

In Italy, Mum had lived across the street from Dad and their families knew each other.

They met again in Echuca and were married.

They farmed in Echuca Village, where they also started their family.

My brother Charlie was born at the Echuca hospital in 1937.

The family moved to Moulamein, where Sam, Steve and I were born. My sister Connie was born in Swan Hill.

Mum and Dad leased land from Peter Jackson about 5km out of Moulamein.

On the Edward River, they pumped water from their vegetables and shared the lease with Mum’s father and Dad’s brothers-in-law Dominic Taverna, Roy Marsolino, John Tripodi and Charlie Taverna.

They all camped along the river and while things were very tough, they were going okay.

At that time, Dad had his eldest son Paul immigrate to Australia and he farmed with them.

Then World War II broke out and we were in trouble. Being Italian, we were going to be put in prison camps.

But luck was with us.

Sergeant McDonald, who knew all the families before the war, wrote to the War Office, saying these people were no threat to Australia as he knew them very well.

He said they were helping the country by growing vegetables and they were good people.

He explained to the Italian farmers there were rules they had to abide by — never leave Moulamein without permission, be indoors by 6pm and hand in their firearms.

One time, they had to go to Swan Hill to get supplies and fertiliser. On the way back, the truck broke down, just out of Swan Hill.

They rang Sergeant McDonald and supplied him with plenty of pasta, salamis, homemade wine and all the vegetables and fruit he could carry.

Another great friend was Harry White, who had the local store. They had an understanding that they could put things on credit and pay later when the crops came in. It worked well for both parties.

Unfortunately, in 1939, during a severe drought, there was a massive dust storm. Mr White lit some lanterns because it was very dark. The wind blew the windows out and the lanterns went flying, causing the shop to catch fire and it burnt to the ground.

Mr White lost all his book work, the lot. He thanked all the Italians in the area for paying him what they owed, and more, whereas the wealthy people in the area did not pay a thing because they said he didn’t have any records. Mr White was truly a great friend.

Mrs White was the matron of the bush nursing hospital where Sam, Steve and I were born. Mum always said what a lovely lady she was, always making them welcome.

In 1945, we shifted to Robinvale, where Dad purchased 640 acres of rich sandy soil. But bad luck followed us. Our first year we were wiped with a plague of grasshoppers. The second year, Dad took the first load of tomatoes to market, then that same day we were hit by hailstones.

I have never seen anything else like it in my life. It was like sheets of glass.

The third year, a plague of rabbits cleaned us out, eating everything in sight, even ringbarking the vines and fruit trees. Dad sold the farm to Philipo Natale and he made good money with the rabbits, selling them for two bob a pair.

In 1949, Dad and Mum bought a farm of about 2000 acres in Echuca Village. We moved in late 1950. We bought sheep, but unfortunately, we missed the wool boom when wool was a pound of wool for a pound of money.

Anybody who had wool that year became very wealthy, but we did well with lambs and wool. The only problem was we did not know anything about sheep. We were thrown in the deep end. Charlie was 14, Sam 12, Steve 10 and I was eight and Connie was a baby, having been born in Swan Hill in 1950.

We had to learn sheep farming quickly. We were very lucky we had great stock agents, Younghusbands, Ken and Hector McKenzie, and great stockmen in Keith Adamson and Tynny Buckley.

We were blessed to have these two people show us the sheep game.

Our solicitor Ian Stewart also went on to become a wonderful friend.

We still grew vegetables, wheat and later on went into dairying and pigs.

The farm at Echuca Village was a fairly run-down place — the fencing was ordinary with most having to be replaced.

It had a lot of stumps and trees that we removed, but the land itself was very good.

We had a lot of work ahead. It had a great water supply from the Warragul Creek. It was all drainage water, which we pumped out of, unlimited supply.

The Water Commission did not want that water going into the river. It told us to use as much as we wanted. We graded about 50 acres to irrigation by tractor and a six-foot Furphy grader — no lasering, all done by eye.

In 1956, we were flooded out and had to shift all the sheep to Mathoura for about six months. We received so much help from neighbours, people around the area, even town people we did not know, and stock carriers.

We lived on the farm for about three years, but it was too much for Mum. We had no power and no water supply to the house.

We would go to the creek by horse and sled to fill two 44-gallon drums. The water was black.

One day, Mum was talking with our next-door neighbour Mrs Walsh about the water being so black. Mrs Walsh said to put a bit of lime in the drums.

The next day, my mum looked in the drums and the water was crystal clear. Mum cried all day.

When we lived on the farm, we travelled to school by horse and cart.

In 1970, Dad and Mum gifted the farm to us boys.

Earlier, they purchased a house in Eyre St, Echuca, and we lived there until 1966, when we sold that house and built a small one in Pakenham St.

Then Mum and Dad moved to Swan Hill.

In 1971, Mum and Dad took a trip back to Italy and stayed with Dad’s brother Steve, the only sibling left back in Varapodio.

Mum and Dad always thanked people that helped them on their journey, and also helped people with labour and money.

Their saying was friends are worth more than money.

They had it hard in Australia, but probably a better life than in Italy.

Mum would say “lavorati forti, e sempre honesti”, which means work hard and always be honest.

I hope you enjoyed the read.