Kerry's Biography

Kerry Richard Wright was born on 10 November 1949 at Fairlight on Sydney's Northern Beaches in Australia. [click on images to enlarge them]

Kerry Wright - 1953

His father, Raymond Harry Wright, was born on 24 November 1907 at the Royal Hospital for Women at Paddington in Sydney and died on 26 May 1977 at 14 Pacific Parade, Dee Why, Sydney (his residence), aged 69.

Ray Wright - 1920s

His mother, Emily Flora Wright nee Glover, was born on 16 July 1911 at Royal North Shore Hospital at St Leonards in Sydney and died on 19 November 1991 at Delmar Private Hospital at Dee Why in Sydney, aged 80.

Flora & Robert Wright - 1930s 

Kerry was the youngest of his parent's four sons.

Kerry Wright - 1962

His siblings were Raymond Colin John Wright (1932-2017), Robert Harry Wright (1937-1982) and Alan George Wright (b.1940). Because he was so much younger than his brothers who soon flew the nest, he was virtually raised as an only child by his beloved, loving parents, whom he adored.

Ray & Flora Wright, 1970

Kerry was raised on Sydney's picturesque Northern Beaches, where he lived for the first 43 years of his life, with a couple of diversions along the way. He relocated to Annandale in Sydney's leafy, harbourside Inner-West in 1993, and retired to the seaside village of Nambucca Heads on the up-state Pacific east coast of New South Wales in 2015.

Kerry Wright - 2017

Kerry was introduced to the Nambucca Valley in the early 2000s by dear friend, Kevin Hewgill, after Kevin had relocated there from Sydney. Many happy holiday visits followed over the years and it was thanks to Kevin that Kerry ultimately came to retire to that beautiful region of New South Wales, renowned for its spectacular waterfalls, rainforest, wild rivers and pristine beaches.

"Study for Portrait of Kevin Hewgill" by Kerry Wright - 2023

In his youth, Kerry entered the cloister of the Carmelite Monastery at Winston Hills. After leaving the monastery, he initially found employment in banking, and was later employed for 30 years at Royal North Shore Hospital, St Leonards, where he worked closely with the legendary Professor Kathleen Evelyn (Kathy) Baker for much of that time.

Kerry Wright - 1970

Kerry's maternal, male line can be traced back to his Great-Grandfather and Great-Great-Grandfather, Henry Heath Snr and Henry Heath Jnr, who were London artists and lithographers. They migrated to Adelaide, South Australia, in 1849, where they added Glover to their surname, becoming Henry Heath Glover Snr and Henry Heath Glover Jnr. It is not known why they changed their name. 

"Mercury Island" by Henry Heath Glover Jnr, c.1864 

Henry Heath Glover Snr and Jnr are represented in various collections throughout Australia, including the National Portrait Gallery in Canberra, the National Library of Australia in Canberra, the Art Gallery of South Australia and the State (Mitchell) Library of New South Wales. They are also represented in various collections throughout the world (conduct Google search for latest listings), including the National Portrait Gallery in London, where there are 29 works by Henry Heath Snr, the bequest of Sir Edward Dillon Lott du Cann.

"To Be Or Not To Be, That Is The Question" by Henry Heath (Glover) Snr, 1827 - National Portrait Gallery, London

Kerry's maternal, female line can be traced back to his Great-Great-Grandfather, David Senior, a Yorkshire lad from Dewsbury in England, who was arrested for stealing food to feed his family. He was transported to Australia on the convict ship "Theresa" in 1839. 

Kerry's paternal genealogy can be traced back to his Wright, Mansfield and Mullens ancestors, who migrated to Australia from Leicestershire and Cambridgeshire in England in the early 1800s. Further particulars continue to be researched and are incomplete at this time.

John Francis Mullens - 1905

Kerry followed in the footsteps of his maternal artist ancestors, painting and drawing throughout his life. His preferred artistic medium is oil on canvas, portraiture being his primary passion. Abstraction is another significant interest. 

"In the Midnight Brightly" by Kerry Wright - 2001

During the 1980s/90s, he calligraphically inscribed the names of graduands onto professional certificates in various disciplines within the nursing profession at Royal North Shore Hospital and for the Institute of Nursing Administrators of NSW & ACT, amongst others.

He produced an extensive portfolio of satirical cartoons during the early 2000s. 

"A Baloney of Celebrity Chefs" by Kerry Wright - 2009

He entered paintings in the Archibald Prize, Sulman Prize and Blake Prize without success, and contributed paintings to the Out Art exhibition as part of the Sydney Gay & Lesbian Mardi Gras Festival each year during the 1990s - with success!

"Self Portrait in Carmelite Habit" by Kerry Wright - 1970

Kerry’s godmother, Dorothy Cynthia Shiels nee Murrell (b. 2 Nov 1923), is his cousin. Their mothers, Flora and Gladys, were sisters. A much loved Aunty Mame figure in Kerry's life, Dorothy introduced him to the wonderful world of theatre and the arts from an early age, and often referred to him as the son she never had. 

Dorothy Shiels - 1940s

A constant throughout Kerry’s life has been his cherished, beloved friend, George John Chamberlain. George was born Gerhardus Johannes Van Rooyen at Geita in Tanzania, East Africa, on 28 May 1950, and attended the Hill School at Eldoret in Kenya, before migrating to Australia with his family in 1963 aboard the S S Galileo Galilei from Aden. After serving in the Royal Australian Navy, George moved to Sydney, where he and Kerry met one bright, sunny, Saturday afternoon in February 1973, in the home of mutual friends at 37 Lancaster Crescent, Long Reef, on Sydney’s Northern Beaches.

"Portrait of George Chamberlain" by Kerry Wright - 1980

In 2012 Kerry was made a Governor of the Art Gallery of New South Wales Foundation.

Art Gallery of New South Wales

Kerry & Toots - 1960

Kerry Wright

with Toots

Mactier Street, Narrabeen

1960

When I was 7 my big brother, Robert, aged 19, brought home a tiny puppy and begged Mum to allow him to keep her.

Robert claimed the puppy had followed him home, to which Mum responded, "What, on the bus?" Mum had four sons. She'd heard it all before.

At first Mum said no, but soon relented under the weight of ever increasing emotional pressure from Robert, and his assurance that he would take full responsibility for the care and feeding of the puppy.

Soon after, Robert left home to make his own way in the world, and I adopted the puppy.

We had called her Toots because she had such large paws.

Toots and I soon became inseparable. We went everywhere together. She was my best friend.

It broke my heart when she died of cancer when I was 14.

Flora Wright - 1975

Flora Wright
1975

In 1975 George and I were invited to live at 37 Lancaster Crescent, Long Reef, on Sydney’s Northern Beaches. George had boarded there briefly, in 1973, when he first came to Sydney after leaving the Royal Australian Navy. It was at No.37 that George and I first met in February 1973, when he was then lodging there. The deal was that we could live free of charge in the garden flat in return for maintaining the garden for the elderly owner, Mrs Edith Rommel. George and I eagerly agreed. It was an excellent opportunity to save money and the garden flat afforded a private, separate entrance to the property and magnificent views overlooking the Pacific Ocean. Mum and Dad lived at nearby Dee Why and visited often. This charming photo of my beloved mother, Emily Flora Wright nee Glover (known as Flora), was taken on one such visit.

Kerry Wright - 1974

Kerry Wright
1974

In 1974 George and I moved into an apartment at 3 Regent Street, Dee Why, on Sydney’s Northern Beaches. This photo of me was taken there. I was 24. George hadn’t long been out of the Royal Australian Navy and I had previously been living at home with my parents. In the background can be seen a glimpse of the little three-piece lounge suite we bought at the Beard Watson store at Dee Why. Also there, we purchased the Murillo print and lamp seen here. Beard Watson was a lovely store, dating back to the 1800s. Sadly, it has since ceased to be. The apartment was a two bedrooms/one bathroom walk-up and was not far from the beach. We spent much of our leisure time at the beach in those days, hence my sun tan. The rent was $30 per week, which now seems unimaginably low, but was average for the time. We were destined to live there for just 12 months – but that’s another story.  

George Chamberlain - 1973

George Chamberlain
1973

In mid-1973 George moved to a cute little garden flat at 45 Cumberland Avenue, Collaroy. I have many happy memories from that time. 

Not long ago, I was driving through the Northern Beaches when, for no particular reason, I took an unplanned detour along Cumberland Avenue. I parked outside No.45 and looked down the side passage, which I knew led to the garden flat at the rear of the property. It had been nearly four decades since last I was there. 

For some reason I can’t explain, I experienced the most startling and totally unexpected emotional reaction. I sobbed my heart out, sitting there in the car on that glorious summer day. At the time, I couldn’t quite understand why I had reacted as I did. Certainly, I was not experiencing any feelings of sadness. I now believe they were tears of joy for all the happy times George and I shared there, so very long ago. 

This photo shows George in the garden at No.45. The owner of the house was the elderly Australian artist, Mavis Dawson, who painted under her maiden name, Mavis Mallinson. Hanging in George’s garden flat was Mrs Dawson’s painting, “The Doomed Castle”. Its charming depiction of mermaids frolicking amidst a storm-tossed sea absolutely enchanted me and when George and I moved to an apartment at nearby Dee Why in 1974, I purchased the painting from Mrs Dawson as a keepsake. “The Doomed Castle” is with me still and always will be. It is one of my most treasured possessions:

"The Doomed Castle"

by Mavis Mallinson

George Chamberlain - February 1973

George Chamberlain
February 1973

Here’s George, photographed in the very room where we first met at 37 Lancaster Crescent, Long Reef, on Sydney’s Northern Beaches. It was February 1973 and George  had recently left the Royal Australian Navy. On the day we met, I had collected my friend, Paul, from Grace Bros at Warringah Mall, after he finished work (and yes, he did work in the menswear department). Shops closed at 12 midday on Saturdays back then. It was a hot, sunny, summer day. Paul lived opposite the beach at Narrabeen and we had planned to spend the afternoon at the beach. En route, as we passed through Long Reef, Paul mentioned that he had a friend who lived nearby. He suggested we make a brief detour and call in to say hello. And the rest is history! George and I have been friends ever since. The house at No.37 had spectacular views far out to sea and south along the Pacific coast as far as the Macquarie lighthouse at Vaucluse. It has since been demolished and a palatial new residence erected in its place. George and I visited the building site not so long ago and the builders allowed us to look around. Ah, the memories! 

Kerry Wright - ca.1972

What can I say, it was the 1970s! Everyone had big hair back then!

Flora Wright - Early-1970s

My dear mother, Emily Flora Wright (known as Flora) nee Glover (1911-1991), pictured in the garden of my brother's home at Belrose in Sydney in the early 1970s. 

Carmelite Monastery

"Self Portrait in Carmelite Habit" 
 Kerry Wright, 1970 
Oils on canvas
60cm x 50cm (24in x 20in)

I have been sketching and painting my own image since childhood. The above self portrait is one of my first serious attempts at capturing my likeness in oils on canvas. This is how I viewed myself, albeit sans spectacles, during my time at Mount Carmel Monastery in Sydney. I had entered the Carmelite Order to study for the priesthood. Alas, however, over a period of time, I came to realize that I did not possess the religious vocation I had so fervently hoped and prayed would be mine during my adolescence. So I left the monastery and got on with my life in the secular world. It was a memorable experience and I met some wonderful people in the monastery. Certainly, I harbour no regrets about my time spent within the Carmelite cloister. In fact, I'm glad I went in, because if I hadn't done so, I would always wonder if I was meant to be a priest. It was a time of intense self-reflection in my life, which is evident in the above self portrait.

Here’s a selection of photos from my Carmelite photo album:

^ Here I am in the monastery’s rose garden. Filled with hope and high expectations. I was so very young and naïve.

^ That’s me beneath the white cowl of the Carmelites with capuche raised. The monastery grounds occupied an entire hilltop in outer Sydney and comprised a small working farm as well as the monastic building complex itself. Everything has long since fallen victim to the city’s ever increasing suburban sprawl. The grounds have been subdivided into new streets of gaudy, ostentatious McMansions. The beautiful monastery building itself, with its pretty little chapel, laid waste by the bulldozer’s might. George and I recently made a pilgrimage back to the site and were very saddened by the over development of what had once been such an idyllic, sylvan setting, with not so much as a plaque to signify a monastery had once stood there.

^ I’m seen here within the monastery grounds. It all seems so very long ago.

^ With Mum and Dad on visiting day. There was a visiting day once each month. Visitors were not permitted to enter the cloister proper. They were restricted to the visitors’ parlours and the monastery grounds. I am wearing the white cowl of the Carmelites.

^ A beautiful photo of my beloved mother, taken on visiting day with two of her grandchildren, Susan and Matthew.

^ Mum and Dad in the monastery's rose garden.

Kerry Wright - 1968

Kerry Wright

1968

I’m pictured here in my bedroom at Mum and Dad’s home in Dee Why on Sydney’s Northern Beaches, doing something that occupied much of my time in those days – painting and listening to music. My musical tastes were somewhat eclectic back then. I enjoyed both classical and popular music. Nowadays, it’s strictly only classical music for me. I’m wearing headphones so as not to inflict my musical tastes upon my parents. I am holding the recently completed portrait of a friend, Ian, from that time. I don’t know what’s become of the painting. Both it and Ian vanished from my life long ago. Hanging on the wall in the background can be seen various other examples of my artwork, including paintings of the Sacred Heart of Jesus, the Blessed Virgin Mary, and my copy of a portrait of the German Romantic painter, Philipp Otto Runge, who I considered to be most handsome; albeit in a tragic, consumptive kinda way:

Philipp Otto Runge

Ray & Flora Wright - 27 January 1969

Ray & Flora Wright 

27 January 1969

Two photos of my mother and father, Ray and Flora Wright, taken on the same day – 27 January 1969. We were off for a day out in the city. The first photo shows Mum and Dad leaving their home at Dee Why on Sydney’s Northern Beaches. We took a bus to the city, where I was scheduled to serve the 8 a.m. Mass at St Patrick’s Church in Grosvenor Street. During 1969, I served the 8 a.m. Mass every weekday morning at St Patrick’s and also the Benediction on Wednesday and Friday evenings. I worked at nearby Circular Quay at the time. The second photo shows Mum and Dad in the garden courtyard below St Patrick’s. That's a garden bed full of  petunias surrounding the statue of St Joseph in the foreground - very colourful in real life. We took the stairs seen here in the background, which led to the sacristy, where a nun can be seen peeking around the corner. Mum and Dad sat in the private pews to the side of the altar, adjoining the sacristy, unseen from the main body of the church. Following Mass we saw the Peter Cook and Dudley Moore comedy movie “Bedazzled” at the Town Cinema in Pitt Street near Town Hall and then had lunch. It was a lovely day.

Gladys Ann Murrell - 1969

Gladys Ann Murrell nee Glover, 1906-1991

Mum's sister, my Aunty Glad, at Dee Why on Sydney's Northern Beaches in 1969.

Dorothy Shiels - 1969

Dorothy Cynthia Shiels nee Murrell

1969

Dorothy is my cousin, the daughter of my Aunty Glad (Gladys Ann Murrell nee Glover). Aunty Glad is my mother's sister. Dorothy is also my godmother. She is proudly pictured here at Dee Why on Sydney's Northern Beaches in 1969, with her newly-purchased Mini.

Dorothy Shiels & Kerry Wright - 1961

Dorothy Shiels & Kerry Wright

1961

Whilst recently conducting a major house clean, I came across this charming photo secreted within the pages of a book in my library. I’d forgotten I had it. It was taken at a family wedding reception at the grand old Australia Hotel (since demolished) in Martin Place, Sydney, in late 1961, just a couple of weeks after my twelfth birthday. With me is my cousin and godmother, Dorothy Cynthia Shiels nee Murrell (b.1923), who is the daughter of my mother’s sister, Gladys Murrell nee Glover. Yep, it’s true, I really do have a godmother named Dorothy. No wisecracks about Fairy Godmothers, please! (wink) Dorothy and I have always been very close and remain so to this day. We see each other regularly and our next such meeting will be on May 24, when we plan on making an excursion to the Art Gallery of New South Wales together. I’m so looking forward to it. It was Dorothy who first took me to the AGNSW when I was just a little boy, back in the 1950s. She was also the first to take me to live theatre and other assorted museums and galleries around town, here in Sydney. It’s Dorothy I have to thank for awaking in me my enduring love and interest in culture and the arts. My very own Auntie Mame! 

Possibly Sarah Jane Turner with her youngest daughter, Sarah Anne - ca.1880

Possibly Sarah Jane Turner

with her youngest daughter, Sarah Anne

ca.1880

I came upon this photo only recently amongst my late mother's (Emily Flora Wright nee Glover) personal effects. As with most of the photos in her collection, there's nothing to indicate who these people are. It seems to have been a tradition in my family to never write anything on the back of family photos. For that reason, I don't know for sure who these people are.

Mum's mother, Louise Mary Glover nee Turner was born in 1870, meaning she'd be about the age of this woman around the turn of the century, if that's when this photo was taken. However, as she didn't marry until 1899, it is unlikely to be her, as this appears to be a mother and child study to me.

The fact that the photo was taken at Falcon Studios in North Sydney is an indication that they are from my Mum's side of the family, not Dad's. Louisa Mary's family had a farm at Roseville Chase at that time, near the present Roseville Bridge, not all that far from North Sydney, whereas Dad's family lived far away in the upper Hunter Valley of New South Wales.

My cousin, Dorothy Shiels (b.1923), believes this may be Louisa Mary's mother, my maternal great-grandmother, Sarah Jane Turner nee Senior (1850-1889), with her daughter, Louisa Mary (my grandmother), as a child, meaning it would date from the 1870s.

Confused? Me too!

What Dorothy's hypothesis does not explain, however, is why Louisa Mary was photographed alone with her mother and not with her twin sister, Theresa Jane, also being present. Surely the twins, Louisa and Theresa, would have been photographed together with their mother.

Sarah Jane Turner had two other daughters, Elizabeth Emily (1876-1802) and Sarah Anne (1878-1947), so it may be one of them photographed with their mother.

Sarah Jane predeceased her husband, my maternal great-grandfather, William Turner (1844-1892), in 1889, aged 38. William died only a few years later, in 1892, aged 48.

They left behind six orphan children, the youngest of whom was Sarah Anne, aged just 14 at the time of her father's death.

It seems reasonable to assume that my grandmother, Louisa Mary, the eldest child, took Sarah Anne under her wing, following the death of their father. Louisa Mary was 22 when their father died. She was unmarried at the time, not marrying until 1899. Certainly, they remained close throughout their lives, Sarah Anne being known affectionately throughout the family as Aunty Doll.

If this is, indeed, a photo of my great-grandmother, Sarah Jane Turner, with her youngest child, Sarah Anne, I am prepared to venture that it may have been found and kept by my mother, Emily Flora Wright nee Glover, within the possessions of her mother, Louisa Mary Glover nee Turner, following the death of the latter.

By way of background as to the reason for William Turner's early death, the story in the family has it that he left the farm at Roseville Chase one morning, bound for the markets in Sydney. He was driving a horse and dray. The horse returned to the farm alone, later in the day. A search party went out, and William was found dead by the side of the road, crushed under the dray, which had rolled on top of him. The reason for the accident is unknown.

I do not know the reason for Sarah Jane death at the age of 38.

I guess we'll never know for sure who these people are! Genealogy can be so frustrating!

George John Chamberlain - 1966

George John Chamberlain

Royal Australian Navy

1966

Narrabeen Boys' High School Choir - 1963

Narrabeen Boys' High School Choir

1963

In this photo of the Narrabeen Boys’ High School choir taken in 1963, that's me, Kerry Wright, in the second row from the front, fifth from the left (click on the image to enlarge it). For the most part, I felt safe in the choir. It offered me a place of sanctuary from the rampaging, pint-sized thugs in the schoolyard. I was a boy soprano. Come to think of it, we were all boy sopranos! That year, our choir joined with other school choirs from throughout New South Wales to form a combined schools’ choir, which performed with the Sydney Symphony Orchestra in Sydney Town Hall as part of Education Week celebrations. The concert was filmed for television and I remember watching it on our black and white set at home. Among other pieces, we sang excerpts from Henry Purcell’s opera, “Dido and Aeneas”, which I have loved ever since. To this day, its sublimely beautiful and deeply lachrymose aria, “Dido’s Lament”, remains one of my all-time favourite pieces of music. Click on this link to see Jessye Norman performing it:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jOIAi2XwuWo

Following a devastating conflagration some years ago, the incinerated Narrabeen Boys’ High School ceased to be and has subsequently risen from the ashes as Narrabeen Sports High School.

Kerry Wright - 1961

Kerry Wright

1961

This portrait of me was taken in late 1961. I was in my final year at Narrabeen Lakes Primary School, prior to progressing to high school in 1962. I had just turned 12. 

I’m wearing my new high school uniform. That school’s motto, “Enitere ad Finem” (“Strive to the End”), is indelibly emblazoned upon my psyche, conjuring nightmare flashbacks of brutality, cruelty and wanton bastardization. I was repeatedly and systematically bullied, physically and psychologically, throughout my six years at Narrabeen Boys’ High School. Why? Probably because I was sensitive, artistic, gentle and caring. It didn’t help any that I had absolutely no interest in sport – a blasphemy in the eyes of my tormentors. 

But worst of all, I was pretty! The feral little thugs at my alma mater soon took to referring to me in the feminine gender, usually with accompanying kicks and punches and wails of derisive laughter, as I cowered and begged them to “Go away”. They travelled in packs, shrieking “Fu**ing poofter!” as they attacked. Somehow they seemed to know I was gay even before I did! 

Dad tried taking me to boxing lessons but I was far too timid to attend, so I simply had to accept my fate and “strive to the end” of those six hate-filled years as best I could. 

This all sounds like just another pathetic, self-indulgent, victim’s tale of woe, I know. It’s cringesome - even I can see that. Lots of kids were bullied at school, you’re thinking. Get over it and move on! But I’m simply recounting the facts here. I’m not looking for sympathy. This was my experience. Certainly, if nothing else, it taught me how to be internally tough and resilient. And it taught me how to survive.

George Chamberlain - ca.1961

George Chamberlain

ca.1961

Hill School

Eldoret

Kenya

East Africa

Ray, Flora & Kerry Wright - 1960

Mum, Dad and me on holiday in Queensland, 1960.

George Henry & Louisa Mary Glover - Late-1950s

George Henry & Louisa Mary Glover

Late-1950s

My maternal grandparents, George Henry and Louisa Mary (May) Glover (nee Turner). Nanny was born on 26 August 1870 and Papa on 26 December 1874. Nanny had a twin sister, Theresa, who died in 1920 and is buried at Waverley Cemetery at Bronte in Sydney. My cousin/godmother, Dorothy Shiels, tells me Nanny visited Theresa's grave each year on her birthday, August 26. She'd take Dorothy, her granddaughter, with her. Dorothy would cut the grass on the grave with a pair of scissors they took with them, specifically for that purpose.

Nanny and Papa met when they were in-service together at one of the grand old stately homes located at The Glebe in Sydney in the late-1800s. My grandmother was the lady’s maid, meaning she attended exclusively to the requirements of the lady of the house, and my grandfather was the coachman, looking after the family’s carriages and horses - today he’d be the chauffeur.

After leaving service, they settled at Crows Nest on Sydney’s Lower North Shore where they raised their five children, George, Keith, Gladys, Colin and Flora. Flora, their youngest, born 1911, is my mother. A sixth child, Laurence, died in infancy. 

The family holidayed at Narrabeen on Sydney’s Northern Beaches each year and at some time in the 1920s they decided to move there permanently. They lived at 8 Mactier Street and we lived next door at number 10. They died within weeks of each other in 1960. Though I was only 10 when they died, I can still see them clearly in my mind's eye and have vivid recollections of sitting on their front verandah with Nanny when I was just a small child, listening to the stories she told. She was a great story-teller. 

On my way to school each morning, I would call in on Nanny to say good-bye for the day. I usually found her in her darkened, Victorianesque bedroom, cluttered with porcelain vases and figurines, brushing her long white hair vigorously. After many strokes of the brush, it was ultimately fashioned into a bun at the back of her head, held in place by a hair-net. From what I remember, Papa was usually pottering in his garden while all this was going on. He loved his garden and took a great deal of pride in it. I can still conjure-up the beautiful fragrance of his sweet peas to this very day.

Mum and Aunty Glad cared for Nanny through her final illness. Mum later told me she had suggested to Papa that perhaps he might be more comfortable in another bed during that sad time. Apparently he responded that he had been sleeping alongside his beloved May for the past 70 years and wasn't about to change beds any time soon. And that's exactly where he was, sleeping beside her, when she passed away. He died soon after at nearby Manly Hospital, following a massive haemorrhage.

They are pictured above on the front verandah of their home at 8 Mactier Street. The French doors behind them lead to their bedroom, where Nanny died. There’s no date recorded, but it pictures them as I remember them, meaning it would have been taken some time in the late 1950s. Their remains are interred beside each other at Northern Suburbs Memorial Gardens & Crematorium in Sydney's North Ryde.