After a childhood spent in children’s homes, I arrived at Fairbridge Farm Molong. The year was 1950 and I was just 11 yrs old. I was traumatised that very first day, and at night I curled up in my blanket in the foetal position and cried.
I cried because of fright,because of loneliness and because of an awareness of having been abandoned. Most of all, I cried for my Mother who was far away in England, but who I could not remember ever having seen. I resolved that night, that I would never shed another tear over my Mother, and I would never make any effort, to ever meet her.
In 1989 I was one of the Child Migrants appearing in the Documentary “Lost Children of the Empire.” In the film, I spoke about the emotional deprivation at Fairbridge and included the words. ” I do not remember once the whole time I was at Fairbridge that anyone ever put their arm around me, comforted me, shook my hand. I do not remember it ever happening.”
It was during 1989 that my life took a dramatic turn, Margaret Humphreys from the Child Migrant Trust traced my mother and my sister Rita, who were both living in Liverpool, England. Margaret arranged a wonderful reunion with Rita, but I was still adamant that I would not meet with my Mother. Rita died some years later, while I was living in England, but I did not go to the funeral because I knew my Mother would be there.
After the Australian apology by Kevin Rudd in Canberra, I was invited to go to England for the British apology. This meant a great deal to me, as I thought that an apology from my Mother Country included an apology from my mother. I then decided it was now time to forget that first lonely,traumatic night at Fairbridge, and to meet my mother.
The apology in London differed greatly from the Australian one. It was organised with taste, sincerity,care and the deepest respect towards those of us who attended the event. There were many heartfelt speeches and the Child Migrants attending were allocated a special room, free of the press, where the Prime Minister mingled, talking to anybody and listening to their stories.
I found myself next to Gordon Brown who extended his hand to shake mine, I thanked him for the apology and the opportunity to come to meet my mother for the first time. He asked me if I had ever met her, and I answered “No, she died two weeks ago at the age of 94.” At this point, sixty years later, I once again cried over the loss of my Mother. The Prime Minister then did what I had so missed as a Child Migrant, he shook my hand, and comforted me. He put his arm around me, and said, “I am sorry, so very sorry”. George Wilkins Melbourne. Australia