When I did this interview in early February this year, little did I know that just a few days later I would be receiving a phone call to inform me that the man who had completely charmed me had suddenly passed away. I shed a tear for the man I barely knew because all that I could think of was the look on his face when I finished our interview. He was beaming from ear to ear, so excited to have his life story in print and to ponder over his achievements. I would like to dedicate this article to Ken’s children and their extended families. I’m sure you don’t need me to tell you how blessed you were to have had this man in your lives…

“... Well, as much as I worked, I tried to make time for family as well. I enjoyed getting them involved in the outdoors and each of the children loved to water ski...”

I must admit, that when Les Bray contacted me about meeting for a chat with his ‘adoptive father,’ he was given a pretty exceptional wrap – “He’s the nicest bloke you’ll ever meet, loves being around people and is always happy,” were just a few of the compliments given. There was one condition for Les though; he wanted to come with me to listen to the interview. 

So with my co-pilot joining me on the 60 something kilometre drive, Les and I sat with Ken Holland at the beautiful Edward River Gardens in Moulamein to hear his story.

“I think I’ve met you before, Ali,” Ken says as he offers to shake my hand.

I confess that I’m not sure this is the case, but Ken assures me he’s certain so we decide that by the end of the interview, we may uncover the mystery as to if and when we have crossed paths prior.

Ken Holland is a big man, both physically and in his demeanour. You may say a ‘gentle giant,’ as he has such a kind face and mild manner. You’re immediately comfortable when in Ken’s presence.

Les gives Ken a hug and handshake and swiftly leaves the room to go and get the three of us a coffee at the local café just around the corner – “I’ll leave you to it,” he says as he turns to leave.

Ken Holland was born in Koondrook under the care of Nurse Rosen on the 31st of January 1933. The eldest of 7 children (Ken, Rob, Geoff, Lillian, Ted, Peter and Graeme), its unfathomable to think that his mother (Ellena Best [nee Tassell]) made the journey whilst in labour from Moulamein by horse and cart with his father (William Holland) in the driver’s seat.

“We had a lot of respect for Mum. She was very outgoing and very community minded, but she always had the final say!” Ken laughs.

At the tender age of 6, Ken entered the workforce as a paper boy. Pedalling his little bike through the most horrific dust storms, he’d carry a small lamp so he could see where he was riding and to enable people to see him coming.

“All in a day’s work!” He laughs.

“Dad was a drover and he was the boss of the house. We moved to Finley to follow Dad’s work and then at the end of World War 2, Dad transferred to Tocumwal and that’s where Graeme was born. I went droving with Dad once from Jerilderie to Moulamein and it turned me off ever becoming a drover! We slept in a wagon along the way. I learnt later that my grandmother was Aboriginal, but Mum didn’t really allow us to visit her. I remember visiting her and Grandpa Holland on horse and cart delivering milk runs with my Dad. My Grandpa was a Union man.”

Ken admits that he struggled through school, but quite enjoyed Mathematics. He says that in those days, teachers were always a well-respected part of the town and admits that he did receive the cuts on more than one occasion! It was during his school years and as member of the Moulamein Boy Scouts that he developed a lifelong friendship with Roy ‘Stumpy’ Doran.

When he was 14, his father died, leaving Ken to step in as head of the house to helping his mother raise his siblings, whilst allowing them to grow their independence.

“We were thankful for the help we got from Legacy. I was going to Hay High School and boarded at Claughton House for three years. It was very strict there and the prefects gave the cane.

It was important to Mum that we were given a good education, and that experience taught me a hell of a lot when it came to independence and life skills. I studied hard and passed intermediate with Business Principles and Tech Drawing, both of which stuck with me my whole life.”

Fishing played a significant part in Ken’s childhood from as far back as he can remember.

“My grandma had a dairy farm just as you come into Moulamein, and I had a favourite fishing spot close by. I remember running down to my springers and cutting my leg. My uncle put Iodine on it, and I can still feel the sting to this day! There was a cod on the springer that I was excited to get to! I’d come back to Moulamein after graduating when I got a job as a Shire Office Boy. That didn’t last before I went onto a farm delivering milk for a bloke.”

Les arrives back with our coffee, and after a few sips, we get back on track, although Ken hasn’t really paused at all, he’s on a roll!

“So where were we? Ah yes, the bloke whose farm I was working on had an army duck which you could drive on water. I used to deliver the milk in that. After awhile I gave that away and got a job at Rice Motors doing some welding. The Dylan brothers taught me everything. After awhile, I got called up in the airforce but Mum had me held back due to our family situation. I went to Uranquinty to train for six months then went back to the garage. I thought, ‘This is no good,’ and so a couple of locals and I decided to go to Melbourne. A friend had a house down there and so we shacked up there for a bit. Mum didn’t want me to go but I had to. I needed to start a life for myself. There was me, Alan Cantwell and Peter Dawes. 

“We all got jobs. I started welding with Henderson Spring Works making tow bars but after awhile I realised I wasn’t getting enough money so I went to work at Electrolux welding tubes. The more experience you had, the higher you got paid. I got another job welding in a boiler shop and that’s where they showed me what really good welding looked like. I went to night school to learn more skills and then they offered me a position at Port Moresby where I met with two engineers who were quoting to rebuild the New Guinea Native Hospital. 

“I asked them for a job and worked with them for a month before moving back to Moulamein. I didn’t stick around long and had saved some money so I bought myself a Morris Minor and drove to Tamworth to see Stumpy. He was building bridges and had a tent that he lived in. He taught me to cook in a camp oven. We went to a couple of dances and also played a bit of tennis.”

We back track for a moment, and I ask Ken to tell me a bit more about his time in Melbourne.

“Well, obviously it wasn’t as busy as it is these days but there was always plenty to do. We mostly went to the dances. Heidelberg Town Hall, Essendon Town Hall – wherever one was on we usually went. They were wonderful times. We’d been living right near the MCG and then moved into a flat even closer – about 20 yards from the entrance. We went to a dance one night and when I walked in, the first thing I saw was this gorgeous woman dancing with her dress flowing as the spun around.”

Ken shuffles down in his chair and leans over to the shelf beside him, picking up an envelope.

“I wanted to show you this,” he says, handing me the envelope which I open carefully.

“That is exactly what I saw, right there!”

Ken is pointing to a photograph of a very pretty dancer with short blonde, curly hair dancing with a gentleman who it appears is not Ken.

“Oh God no, I couldn’t dance like that! I asked her to dance, and she knew I wasn’t as good as her but she said yes. 

The beautiful blonde was Phyllis Field, and she worked in a grocery store packing eggs. 

“She was one of the town marching girls, and we soon became an item. But I had to go back to Melbourne for work and she went to Tamworth, so we wrote to each other. I just had this feeling we’d always be together so I asked her to marry me. We got engaged in Tamworth and I moved there with her. I got a call from the engineers I’d met in New Guinea, asking me to go back with them building hospitals so I did that just after we got engaged.  A few of the Moulamein boys came up for the wedding and Stumpy was my best man. Tamworth had one of the very early RSL Clubs which is where we had the reception. We made our way back to Melbourne which was our honeymoon. We both got work, I was installing boilers. We made our first home in St Kilda. We got a home loan with Australian Native Society and built an A.V. Jennings Home at Fawkner. Then Deborah was born and I built the cot. It was good becoming a father and Phyllis was a wonderful mother. I was sent to Tassie and while I was there, I got a call to say ‘Phyllis has had twins! A boy and a girl – our daughter Vicky, and a son who didn’t make it. Then we had Gregory, followed by LeeAnne. Our family was complete and Phyllis continued to raise our children while I was always working. I took my role very seriously as the provider of the family, absolutely.”

I urge Ken to drink his cuppa which is undoubtedly getting cold, and as he does so I look around his sunlit room, gazing at the many photographs. I’m drawn to one photo in particular and don’t realise until further into the interview the significance of the subject – a close up of two hands holding.

 We continue, and I ask Ken what he enjoyed the most about being a father to a young family.

“Well, as much as I worked, I tried to make time for family as well. I enjoyed getting them involved in the outdoors and each of the children loved to water ski. We used to go skiing at Lake Eppalock and were members of the Vic Speedboat Club. They were wonderful times.”

Ken always seemed to be crossing paths with the two engineers he’d met by chance all those years ago in New Guinea and through the reputation he was gaining for himself within the welding industry, word was getting round through these gentlemen on his craft.

“I was asked to go to Tocumwal to meet with a Croation guy who’d heard about me through the engineers, wanting to work with me. By now I had my own business – Steamline & Engineering Services, and so I employed him. That seemed to work well and then sometime later I gave him half of the business. I started working closer with the engineers, and we got together and went to England to look at what they were doing with renewable energy. We flew over America and looked at engineering plants and old boiler companies. We had boilers in every state in Australia and wherever there were boilers, there was waste which we wanted to reuse. When I was sent to Tassie to do the boiler work, I discovered council were charging to dump the sawmill dust. We saw an opportunity to buy the sawdust and replace oil and gas fire boilers. We had 8 operating boilers on wood waste. In NSW, we had 5 boilers operating boiler size 1 megawatt to 5 megawatt; In QLD we had 5 boilers operating boiler size one megawatt to three megawatt; in NT we had one boiler two tonne per hour on wood waste; in Western Australia we had three boilers operating 1 megawatt to 3 megawatt; in South Australia we had 1 boiler at 2 tonne per hour; in Victoria we had 6 boilers ranging from half a tonne to three tonne per hour. While in New Guinea the prices of our units ranged from $7,000 to $2 million on completion of our boilers. It soon became a very successful business. I think I’d have to say that my time at college enabled me to make the business so successful. We went over to Europe three more times just researching and improving on the business. My first trip into Berlin, the airport was under control of the American airforce and the bridge going into Berlin was under control of the Russians. The church that was half destroyed by a bomb was rebuilt with all the broken materials and glass and it looked magnificent. While we were there, we visited large combustion municipality waste systems. When asked what size waste can be burnt, I was told ‘a large refrigerator,’ which was later sold as scrap steel. The system supplied the municipality power and hot water to every household. Later in northern NSW we got involved with another company burning municipality wastes.”

I ask Ken if Phyllis enjoyed all the jet setting. He laughs.

“Well, I didn’t take her overseas. She came with me on a few jobs up through NSW but I didn’t think it fair to drag her along with me on business overseas. She was happy with that.”

Life indeed was rosy for Ken and his family. With the children now well and truly grown and having families of their own, this was a new welcome chapter in his life with his lady by his side, but in an instant that was all about to change.

“We were still living in Melbourne and Phyllis got crook so we moved back here. We couldn’t get her into Edwards River Garden straight away. Lee (LeeAnne) was living in Barham and we got Phyllis into Murray Haven. Then a spot came up at Edward River Gardens for Phyllis and I moved into the retirement village next door.”

Ken takes a deep breath, and I know what’s coming. For the first time throughout the entire interview, he has stopped smiling and my heart breaks for him.

“She died with me holding her hand.”

Both of us now in tears, I hold Ken’s hand and look over to the photo I noticed earlier, of his and Phyllis’ hands clutched together.

Seeing Ken so vulnerable is very hard to witness, and after taking a moment, he is happy to continue.

“She had a very big funeral here in Moulamein but it was so sad,” he concedes.

“When she started to get sick, I said to my son Greg ‘the business is yours,’ but he didn’t want it, so it folded. I consider I’ve had a very good life. I’ve travelled the world, got enough money to live, and I’ve worked hard. I’ve thoroughly enjoyed my life,” he smiles with such contentedness.

“Deborah has two boys (one passed away) Vicki has two children; Gregory has four children; LeeAnne has two children and we have 10 grandchildren and 12 great grandchildren. “They’re all very good.”

As I come to the end of the draft on today’s chat, I look at my notes from what Les told me prior to meeting Ken – “nicest bloke you’ll ever meet, loves being around people and always happy,” 

And I can’t object to any of these points. Ken Holland is all of that and more – charming, enthusiastic, engaging, and considerate to name but a few other traits.

I wonder what makes him smile the most these days?

“My happiness now is feeling looked after here by the Moulamein girls – I’ve been here for three months. I like getting on my gopher and going to see Phyllis at the cemetery as much as I can, and having a coffee with the Barham meat boys who come here delivering meat on a Friday,” he says, pointing to Les.

“Moulamein is a great little town. There’s six ways in or six ways out, however you look at it. I’m quite content. I think for a Moulamein boy, I’ve done all right!”

And finally Ken, what would you like to say to your kids?

“Have a go. If you’ve got the ability to, have a plan and make a life for yourselves. How’s that?”

I think that sounds perfect Ken, and I have had the most perfect morning listening to your story.

Yes, I’m a huge fan.

Thanks for the chat.

Ken Holland: January 31, 1933 to February 14, 2020
Reunited with his Valentine