Variously and lovingly referred to as ‘Norm’, ‘Normie’, ‘The Oracle’ and the “Ol’ Bugger”, Norman Petrie had a nickname for almost everyone.

He’d always greet me with “How ya go’in, Darry Baby?”. He had a significant influence on the way I view family, the bush and life.

As a kid Norman would take me camping atop Mount Bajimba, walking from the foot of the mountain in the late afternoon in time to make camp and watch the sun set. I can still recall how distant and small the western hills appeared from the top of the range and how the lights of far-away towns lit pockets of the sky.

Sometimes we’d go down The Rocky – as Norm had often done with his father Ike and younger siblings, Audrey and Ron – a three day ride for the round trip with pack horse in tow. No roads or even marked tracks in those days, just riding through the bush with Norman navigating the right spurs to traverse.

Norman was at home in the bush. As neighbour and local historian Ken Halliday remarked to me, “Norman, was a lover of the bush and epitomised the true Australian character.

“If you needed information about the bush and living in the bush you’d go to Norman,” said Ken.

Norman came from a poor family of working farmers. Born in Bathurst in 1926 and raised during the years of the Great Depression, by the time Norman was seven he had lived in seven places, as his parents Ike and Pauline moved around looking for work and opportunity.

The family returned to Sandy Flat in the early 1930s living with and caring for grandfather Bill Curvey on the place where Norman later lived for over 60 years.

Several years ago Roger Curvey visited and brought with him a little Bill Curvey; the great, great, great, great grandson of old Bill. This gave Norman much joy.

Whilst Norman received only limited and intermittent schooling, like his father he had a great thirst for knowledge and was a keen reader.

He read about the ideas of Charles Darwin and the explorations of Ludwig Leichhardt. He read about the cosmos, history, and about our geography and its flora.

Life was very tough in the Depression and war years. Norman as the eldest son supported his father running their small farm, dairying and raising pigs, and growing corn.

Money was obtained however possible such as by selling rabbit pelts by their hundreds. From a young age Norman took a keen interest in bees. With the help of his father he established his set of hives through robbing wild bees’ nests.

Norman’s social interest in cards led him to meeting his future wife Pat Murphy (nee Edwards) when she returned to Sandy Flat with her son Paddy after the war. Card playing was high up on the Sandy Flat social calendar with nights at the Sandy Flat Hall and neighbours’ homes.

Norman and Pat were married in 1956. Paddy recalls that Curvey’s old place where they started their married life together had little or no infrastructure at the beginning. There was no fencing, no dairy, and only an old, cold timber house and hut.

Their first priority was to get their dairy going which they built with the help of Paddy, Ron and Ike. Once their dairy was built, work commenced on erecting the fences.

All the while they lived in the old place. Paddy recalls that it was so cold that the bath was permanently positioned in the lounge room in front of the fireplace.

In time Pat and Norman built a new modern home with the help again of Ike and Paddy, and Tom Cooper and Bruce Stalling.

Norman’s life was built around his farm and Sandy Flat, and he was passionate about both. Norman took great pride in his dairy and beef cattle, and in later years the fat lambs he raised.

And like his father, Norman loved his vegie garden. He also loved his dogs, from his first, Rusty, to his last dog, Jessie, who is still with us.

Norman hated washing up, and Audrey and I would always cringe when Norman lowered the plates to the floor for the dog to clean up.

When it came to his community, its people and places Norman had a story for every location and every occasion. It didn’t matter what you did or where you were.

He was knowledgeable about a vast array of subjects pertaining to the bush. Belinda Murphy remembers the time he looked to the sky and pointed out the “Mare’s tail” and then proceeded to explain in detail what it was and what it meant.

Norman was a straightforward person. He was blunt and to the point. You knew where you stood with Norman.

Barrie Fisher recalls the first time he met Norm. He and Jill were with Roger Pink who was showing them the new place they had bought adjoining Norman’s. Roger spotted Norman coming down the road and said, “I’ll introduce you to Norman.”

Norman arrived with his walking stick hanging off the side mirror of the car as was customary. Norman’s beloved dog Sam jumped out of the car and raced up to Barrie and Jill who gave her a pat.

Norman, acknowledged them and said nothing except “I wouldn’t pat that dog, she’s just been rolling in a dead sheep.”

He then got back into his car and drove back up the lane to his house. Jill and Barry looked to Roger for an explanation, but Roger could only say “That’s Norm!”

When Audrey and I were up seeing Norman a fortnight ago we talked with him as he’d dozed on and off. After about half an hour he asked, “And who are you”.

Mum said, “I’m Audrey, your sister”, and Norman replied “Well, why didn’t you bloody say so.”

Norman remained young at heart in many ways all his life. He loved doing things with young people.

He hosted scout camps and abseiling activities. He would pick Christopher up off the school bus at Sandy Flat on a Friday afternoon and spend the entire weekend from sun up to sun down driving the support vehicle carrying smoko and tracking distances whilst Christopher trained his endurance horses.

On one occasion, shortly after Norman had had his hip replacement, he instructed Christopher to get the block and proceeded to mount the horse to show Christopher some aspect of horsemanship.

He was also inquisitive and keen to innovate. He was always striving to build on his knowledge and try new things.

He was an early advocate of conservation, new farming practices and better land management, even though his interest in conservation sat uncomfortably with his stubborn predisposition to burn his plastic bags in the fireplace.

He tried to learn how to use a computer. He was adamant he wasn’t going to succumb to being immobile after his hips failed by getting himself a golf buggy, even if he drove it unregistered on public roads around the Flat.

Like his father, for Norman the job had to be done right. Greg remembers Norman teaching him how to cut timber on his bush mill. The timber had to be cut perfect otherwise it was thrown on the scrap heap.

Norman was always happy to offer criticism and tell you when you were doing it wrong; regardless of whether you’d sought his opinion. But he was always motivated by seeking to impart his knowledge and help you do a better job, and therefore you could never get too upset with him.

He also didn’t believe in half measures. After his second hip replacement Norman kept the pins from his first hip for “spare parts” and to remind him “not to wear the new one out”.

Norman was very “dry” but he was also a prankster. When Audrey was a little girl, he brought home a new puppy. Audrey found the little fox tied up underneath the plum tree.

When I was a little boy he asked me which of his piglets I thought was the nicest. One cute one caught my eye and Uncle Norm picked it out for me.

And then slit its throat. And cooked it for Christmas.

This was not what I had expected. Why did he have the slaughter the cute one?!

Later Norman and Pat helped Mum buy my first pony. Cherry was feeding under the pear tree at the house when Normie put Smokie the cat on Cherry's back, Cherry took off up the paddock, Smokie dug his claws in, and Normie was duly satisfied the mare could gallop.

Christopher remembers his father Greg shearing the sheep. Norman walked in with a hessian bag and threw it to Greg saying “Here, shear this one”. In mid-air a big black snake freed itself from the confines of the bag, and sheep, Greg and the snake were seen heading in all directions.

Christopher thought it was bloody funny but Greg - not so much!

Norman was highly accomplished at speaking his mind before thinking about any potential embarrassment his words might occasion. If he was ever concerned about his directness causing some offence, he never let it show.

There was the time Norman turned up at Paddy and Lynne’s for a cuppa. Morning tea was served with scones.

Norman took a scone and threw it against the wall. It fell to the floor with a thud.

Norman sighed, “They’re pretty tough!”

Norman could be a cranky old “bugger”. Paddy recalls the time the spanner went missing, “where’d you lose the bloody spanner” Norman demanded.

Paddy retraced their steps and said, “There Norman, that’s where you left the bloody spanner”.

Giving nothing away, Norman would merely respond with half a grunt, and they’d get back to work.

Barrie Fisher told me that whilst Norman could be a “cranky old bugger” he had a “heart of gold”.

Says Ken Halliday “Norman was always there; always giving with help and advice, the greatest of neighbours.”

Norman contributed to his community throughout his whole life. When still a teenager he was elected Secretary of the Sandy Flat Progress Association. He served as a Director of the Tenterfield Butter Factory Co-operative, and on numerous local community groups such as the Sandy Flat Hall Committee and Bolivia Hall Committee.

One of his proudest moments was when he, Barry Maxwell and Max Buckley were awarded Life Membership of the NSW Rural Fire Service, the only citizens from Sandy Flat to receive the honour.

But, of course, Norman is perhaps best known for his contribution to recording the history of his community and he was a valued member of the Tenterfield Southern Communities Historical Committee.

From an early age Norman keenly listened to the “Ol’ timers” tell their stories of the pioneering days of the early settlers; the hardships they endured and the families, farms and mateships they developed. Over the years he gathered, chronicled, and retold countless thousands of yarns and anecdotes.

In so doing Norman gave all who met him a window into the past – he was a precious link to the times and lives of generations before his own.

When Ronnie wanted to know something about this or that he used to say: “I must ask the Oracle.”

Norman read Henry Lawson and like Lawson was a great storyteller. He told simple but compelling stories about ordinary people in the bush living often extraordinary lives and confronting the challenges of isolation, scarcity, drought, depression or war.

His stories build on our understanding of the Australian character. They are the stories that help us understand who we are today.

A key part of Norman’s legacy are the stories told in several important published histories of the district, the signage and memorials erected along the New England Highway, and Norman’s collection of family histories and photographs, some of which are deposited in the Mitchell Library in Sydney.

Norman is also to be saluted for his major driving role in the two highly successful Petrie Family Reunions and Sandy Flat School Reunion; each attended by hundreds of people.

I would like to conclude by recognising the family members and friends (and staff of Haddington) who cared for him in his final years and in particular Jennifer Pentland and Fiona Petrie who he entrusted with his care and affairs during this time.

Norman led an active life and our lives are richer for Norman being part of them.

He will be with us always. I can just picture him now sitting at his kitchen table without his hearing aids, ABC News blaring out of the TV, and his faithful dog at his side licking his dinner plate on the floor.

There’s a knock at the door and he warmly welcomes his visitor with a polite and friendly greeting, something like “And where the bloody hell have you been?!”

Farewell Normie. We love you. Rest in Peace. We’ll keep telling your stories.​