There I was, having traced the movements of my adversary from my days on Thursday Island all those many years ago, Cecil Burgess; getting all excited and putting it together in my post here; when I read about "His Own Man", written by his son Julian Burgess, and suddenly everything went poof.
It went poof after I had sent Julian Burgess this email, "This is a long shot but are you the son of Cecil Burgess who for a long time lived in New Guinea and on Thursday Island?" and received his almost immediate reply, "Hi Peter, my father certainly was Cec Burgess and he was on TI for a decade or more but he didn’t ever live in New Guinea."
So, that Cecil Burgess on those Passenger Arrival Cards was another and fifteen years younger Cecil Burgess than the one who was my boss for those short six months on Thursday Island in 1977, despite having the same and not altogether common first and last name and despite having worked on some religious mission outpost in the north of Australia.
I emailed back, "I worked with your father on Thursday Island - not for long and not very successfully, as he was a difficult man to get along with - and belatedly heard from others on T.I. that he had passed away at 95. So I was trying to find out a bit more and found the two attached Passenger Arrival Cards at the National Archives, and knowing that he was a bit of a Biblebasher, played the church organ on Sundays, belonged to the Lodge, and had worked on some islands in the Gulf for some Christian mission, it all seemed to fit, except for one thing: the year of birth of 1929. When I knew your father in 1977 he looked a lot older than 48 (1977 minus 1929) but I thought if he had spent all those years in some rough and remote outpost of New Guinea, he might have aged prematurely. I've looked at your book about him and I'm still wondering if it's worth the US$17.67 to perhaps see my name in print or that of several others I know he rubbed the wrong way (no offence but the best way to describe him was 'a crotchety old bastard'). I don't hold it against him as he did me a favour by making my short six months on the island miserable because the island would have been a dead end for me and probably stopped my career, which had already included South Africa, New Guinea, Solomons, Burma, and Iran, before I continued after T.I. to work in Samoa, Malaysia, New Guinea (again), Saudi Arabia, and Greece. In 1977 Cecil had brought up his girlfriend from Perth and given her a job as secretary in our office. She lived in the company-duplex next to his and a carpenter was called in to put a door into the dividing wall between the two duplexes. It was commonly known as the 'Tunnel of Love'. I wonder how long she stayed; I don't even know how long your father remained as manager of IIB as, from what I only know now, he was only two years away from retirement in 1977. As I said, T.I. would have been a dead end as that soporific little island sucks you in, so, quite unintentionally I am sure, he did me a favour. May he rest in peace!", and enclosed some old photos of Thursday Island from that time, including two showing his father.
His next email was just as prompt, "Thanks for the photos and information on TI. You’ve got the wrong Cecil Burgess with the Passenger Arrival Cards. Dad was born in Launceston, Tasmania, in 1914 and moved to Queensland in 1971. He worked on a mission station somewhere for the Presbyterian Church before joining the IIB in 1972. Dad was never a bible basher or even very religious but he did like to play the organ/piano and the churches on TI were the only places where he could play. After he retired as manager in 1981 he was on the IIB board for a few more years. I’ve never heard of him being described as crotchety but he could be a bit prickly and liked things done properly. I visited him a few times on TI and knew Doreen. He told me about the fuss made about the adjoining door. Dad made a lot of good friends in TI and I met quite a few. I think the high turnover of public service staff frustrated him. My book on him is a family history and there’s no mention of his fellow workers at the IIB."
That last bit about being just a family history saved me US$17.67; however, if you want to read the book, you can order it here.
