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Published: October 25th 2012
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Molly Clark
While not the best photo of this amazing lady, this was the last photograph of her, taken by Jeff just 4 days before she passed away. RIP Sadly we have recently farewelled Molly , who passed away at home overnight on the 22
nd September.
Molly’s kindness of letting us share her home will never be forgotten, and although we only knew her a short time, we will miss her greatly.
We have kindly been offered to stay on as caretakers of her house in Alice, while her son Phil works out what he’d like to do with the property. So, also a big thanks to Phil for his generosity.
Here we’d just like to share a couple of poems that were written about her life, and experiences at “Old Andado Station”, where she has finally been laid to rest overlooking her old homestead.
“Molly” written by Jingo
Molly and Mac and three young sons
Went bush in fifty-five
Living in a rough bush shanty
They knew they were alive.
The stock camp, the weather
The loneliness and the cattle
Just running a homestead
Was and endless battle.
But Molly with an unchangeable mind
Lived a life of determination
Adversity seemed to track her down
Causing sadness and frustration.
In nineteen seventy eight Mac
From the Finke yards was running late
Sadly a crash landing had
Taken Molly’s mate.
So now the lone battle had really begun
To muster all the cattle for sale
To beat the threat of brucellosis
Or see their venture fail.
But fate again would strike a blow
That would see most of us resign
For she lost her son in a railway crash
Years before his time.
But Molly took on the authorities
And pushed on through her tears
Until they said “enough enough”
And shot 1000 steers.
Molly and her younger sons
No future could they see
The place would have to be sold up
Clean mustered – cattle freed.
So Molly took the old homestead
On a little block of land
She painted, patched and fixed it up
Shovelled out the sand.
“Old Andado” now by travellers
From far and wide was known
As a friendly, welcome destination
And Molly’s desert home.
"Out On Old Andado" Written by Michael Watts Out on Old Andado Station
Where the Simpson Desert starts.
Lives a Territory Legend
By the name of Molly Clark.
The Old Andado Homestead
Is sort of crudely built
Out of corrugated iron
And that tough Acacia Peuce.
And it's got a lean-to kitchen
Thats rough but sort of neat.
For Molly made a home here
In the dust and sand and heat.
Though once the stockmen sat here,
And Molly in her prime,
With kids in tow, would feed the flow,
And always spin a line.
'Couse she's tough and gruff and forthright,
She calls a spade a bloody spade.
For this country brooks no nonsense,
If you're a joker or a knave.
For out on Old Andado,
You're never really sure,
If it's gonna flood tomorrow,
Or it's drought for ten years more.
So Molly watches the weather,
Which she talks about forever.
It's forty-eight degrees in her shack,
And you wonder how she bears it.
And the people who drop by,
Say they love it, they're never coming back.
For it's been three long years,
Since she last saw any rain.
With the stock upon the station wasted thin.
The humidity is rising, Molly feels it in her bones.
She decides to give the radio a spin.
The storms are a-brewing.
They are building in the east.
Molly hears the call go down the line,
They've had seventy points at Numery,
Mt Dare's been flooded out.
Andado's bound to get some rain this time.
And the clouds across the sand-dunes,
Raise their stormy manes,
Their underbellies catch the setting sun,
And the rain comes down in torrents.
Molly's on the move,
You should have seen that old lady run.
She races past the old stockyards,
And jumped into her car.
A very battered, much loved four wheel drive.
She started up the engine,
Then put her foot down hard,
Ploughing through the mud in one great slide.
She was nearly doing ninety,
When she bounced off the track,
And headed off towards the nearest dune.
The spinifex was glowing with an inner light you'd swear.
And soon the desert flowers would be in bloom.
Well she fish-tailed through the water,
With engine revving hard.
Then gunned it up a mighty sand-dunes side.
And with all odds against her,
She somehow forced a track.
It was grand to see that old lady drive.
When she made it to the top,
The country far and wide,
Was spread before her like a quilted map.
And the swamps full of water,
And the creek was running fast.
So she got in the car and headed back.
Way out on Old Andado,
Where the Simpson Desert starts,
And the sand dunes run forever,
Cause a beating of the heart.
Out on Old Andado,
If you ever get that far.
Then say G'day to Molly
But don't buy that bloody car.
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Kate Simpson
non-member comment
So sad.....
That is so sad Tab, was it a shock? I know that she would have been very fortunate to meet you guys too, and kindness goes both ways. Thinking of you both xx