Many years ago, when an important person left the district, they were often afforded a farewell. Sometimes a framed collage of photos of the district with beautiful calligraphy was presented along with a ‘do’ at the hall where the Gerringong museum is now. The museum has a few examples on a wall.

I personally remember names of people who made important contributions to life in Gerringong. They would then leave the district and be all but forgotten. Alex Trevallion is a name that comes to mind. Hory Kemp is another who was fondly remembered by the people of Foxground as a teacher.

Clive Emery wrote his memories of such farewells.

Clive Emery:

It was customary in our little hamlet of Gerringong to give departing residents a generous farewell. People of station were always accorded the trappings of superiority in our little community. Bank Managers, Town Clerks, school teachers, Ministers of Religion and Doctors always got a farewell. 

The paradox was that the givers of such generosity- the men and women whose life was stable in the community and earned their living by the sweat of their brow- had to await posthumous recognition of their services to the community. Even then, they would have baulked at the thought or mere suggestion had they been able. They gave from the heart, quietly, with never a thought for their own needs, but simply as a neighbour or a friend, and this trait was handed down through the generations. After all, if a gift is awarded it would be most ungracious not to receive it in the spirit of which it was given; one could hardly do otherwise!

Farewells to the leading citizenry were firmly established. A dinner, a dance, a musical evening with supper and entertainment provided by the local people was to become the norm. 

Bank Managers and Town Clerks - of which there were few - were usually farewelled at public buildings such as a School of Arts, Soldier's Hall or Council annex. It was no use suggesting a euchre party and dance for a clergyman and his family for instance, despite the fact that he might just have loved to indulge in former pursuits, so they might get their send-off at a tea and concert or a Sunday school picnic, depending on the ages of his children, where a suitable welcome could be made to his successor.

An example of a certificate given on the departure of an important person from 1990.

Doctors and Police were accorded suitable honours on their departure as they were always well known and considered of high importance in the community. Doctors were philanthropists of the highest order in early days - perhaps no more than those to whom their generosity extended in lots of times had the position been reversed - but they

were educated, and their position was respected by all and sundry.

The policeman was equally known, for it was his duty to visit every home there to collect the census and the stock returns, doing the duties of a dozen men today. Not that he was overworked really - he could find time to 'wet a line' or have a game of golf almost when he chose. No, it was the uncomplicated way of life he lived, devoid of the complexity of modern times; times when the legal men could grow their own vegetables, and the doctors had a fishing boat moored near the wharf for urgent necessities to get away from appendices and tonsillectomies. Referrals to specialists were scant; indeed, the surgery or the hospital theatre were the places where the scalpel was wielded, and broken bones set with precision.

Farewells were a great event. Great suppers followed repetitious speeches by the same people using the same old phrases and the same old jokes we knew so well, and we clapped them, which urged them to repeat themselves many times until the chairman rose to his feet bringing the encores to an end. A bevy of ladies slipped unnoticed into the washing-up annex, there to dip hot water from a wood-fired copper and the cup and saucers and sundries were washed and dried and packed away. They were a well organised and thorough team.

Schoolteachers were often farewelled on the school premises. Once more the speeches and songs, the pianoforte solos, the jokes and suppers were repeated. The gifts were acknowledged with prescribed sentences; 'this purse of sovereigns I will hand to my wife for her loyalty and unfailing attention to my well-being!' or; 'this beautiful set of cutlery will grace our table and remind us, .'

But the send-off which shall stay forever in my memory as the prince of all farewells was when a certain headmaster received a wallet of notes to the value of forty-three pounds from the chairman on behalf of the community. There were many eulogies in his favour, and when he rose to his feet to respond he was greeted with much clapping and enthusiasm. It could have been this adulation which increased his feeling of importance or caused him to regret his imminent departure.

'Friends', he said in conclusion, 'I thank you all for the kind things said about me this evening. It worries me that I will be missed so much. . . so I think I'll stay!'

As he resumed his seat the audience were dumbfounded! The tumultuous handclapping did not materialise. Everyone waited for the other to start the clapping. Out of deference somebody clapped a couple of times, then others followed while many sat on their hands. Probably they were thinking of their donation, now in his pocket, the supper provided, the decorations, the music, the songs and speeches. The clapping died away and a humiliating silence followed. People rose to leave. . .the party was over . . .we've been robbed. . .I wonder?

But stay he did. . . for a year until his retirement, while those who feted him went home to make and save another donation for his successor! And even his football friends never reinstated him to the elevation he had enjoyed!