Rupert's Place
A grandfather, a caravan, and a past that never let go
It was the late summer of 1988, six months or so after grandmother, Nanny James had passed away, when Dad and I made the long drive from Kealba to Mooroopna to visit Pop Rupert.
Dad did most of the talking on the trip up. If he hadn’t been a linesman, he could’ve made an excellent tour guide. When I inquired why the Goulburn was so low at Murchison, he r…
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