The memory I’ve tried to repress for 50 years
I’m driving slowly, as it’s raining. Passing a parked ambulance, I distinctly remember thinking, ‘You won’t get me.’ Then everything changes in an instant.
I’m driving slowly, as it’s raining. Passing a parked ambulance, I distinctly remember thinking, ‘You won’t get me.’ Then everything changes in an instant.
My friendship with Lady Joan Lindsay lasted for years, with Joan playfully giving me hints as to the mystery of the missing Miranda at the Rock.
At the Saturday Matinee session for children we were treated to the classic cinema of the day, and eventually introduced to my celluloid hero Johnny Weismuller as Tarzan.
At 15, in the early 1950s, and not long after Menzies had failed to have the Communist Party of Australia banned, I signed up. And I stayed loyal to the CPA … until Khrushchev blew it all up.
When I found a very young female joey chittering and shivering beside her dead mum, I took her back to the homestead. She recovered – and became a familiar sight.
I’ve had personal contact with all our PMs from Robert Menzies. Four have been visitors in my home. The jury’s out on who was the best – but I can tell you the worst.
Years ago I wrote a column for this masthead on literary linkages between famous authors and Australia. But I came up short and filled the space with a furphy that backfired spectacularly.
The bombs and rockets that once razed parts of London are falling still – in Ukraine and Gaza. Are we humans in love with war?
You know about fake news, the notion unveiled by the Donald. Today we discuss fake expertise, the fraud perpetrated by the Phillip.
Who really killed Franz Ferdinand? Lincoln? Hitler? Gandhi? Pope John Paul I? JonBenet Ramsey? Join me, your host, as I discover new evidence and rewrite history.
Original URL: https://www.theaustralian.com.au/author/phillip-adams/page/5