Category: Waimate gorge

Posted on

A Life Well Lived: Southern Legend Dan Gregan (The big "D")

Dan Gregan pictured with his Grandson Hugh!

I now think it is possible to enjoy a funeral. It is after all a final send off for someone you know and care about. Whilst that is sad, when that individual has lived a true, full and happy life it truly becomes a celebration.

Last week Dan Gregan passed away suddenly in his sleep aged 84. He was man who has always been a part of my life. He lived over the boundary fence and any farmer out there knows that is quite a big thing down south! Not only that his family and mine have lived over the boundary fence from each other since the early 1900’s when our family’s drew land from the ballet. His father and my Great Grand parents kicked around together as they broke in the land. My Grand father farmed next to Dan and then my mother did. Dan’s son John now has the boundary and John’s son Sean is my Godson.

Over the last century our families have known each other well, never living in each others pockets by any stretch of the imagination (how can you when you live 4 km apart) but supporting each other through good times and the bad. Storms and disaster, injury and illness, celebration and success have all been present at some stage during those decades.

Dan was an impressive man. Tall, lean and fit with a sharp wit and quiet way about him. He was a gentleman. He was always happy to see you, always got up and shook your hand with his big mit, was always interested in what you were doing and what was happening in your world. He was a savvy businessman and investor, farmer and stockman. He enjoyed the odd whiskey, an occasional cuban cigar, fine chocolate and loved reading his newspaper cover to cover. It is fair to say a blog or Facebook were not his preferred methods of communicating with his many friends and large family, rather he was old school…..a conversationist.

Dan and Jo (effectively a second Mum to me) raised a large and successful family with whom I have been lucky enough to have grown up amongst. All successful in their own fields and now with careers, partners and children of their own at various ages, the older I get the more I value their friendship. So when my mother rang to tell me of Dan’s death it took me by surprise. I sat down for a few minutes, let it sink in, it upset me. I had been lucky enough to spend time with him several weeks before the big earthquake in February when the Gregan clan had gathered to celebrate the christening of his latest wee Granddaughter. We chatted and laughed and I really enjoyed seeing him for the first time in 6 months or more.

His funeral was huge and it really struck me just how many people across all age groups respected and loved Dan. How his sons delivered his eulogy so well I will never know but the mix of humour, story telling and pride was a delight and classic Gregan style. Dan had a strong catholic faith and a love of people, family and friends. He was a man of the land, a farmer, a businessman and a person you listened to, respected and enjoyed fellowship with.

He was a Southern Legend and I’m sure the hundreds who shared his farewell celebration would agree.

I miss him already.

Posted on

ANZAC: The Ted d’Auvergne (Bottle of Beer) Story

Private Ted d’Auvergne was a farm lad from my home town of Waimate. Well to be exact he came from a little settlement just through the Waimate Gorge called Waihao Forks. I have known of his story since I was a very young and I was lucky enough to find myself in Crete, Greece for the 60th anniversary of the German airborne invasion.

During this time the New Zealand Division fought hard to repel the attack from a huge airborne German force which dropped from the sky but along with other allied troops were forced to withdraw from the Island.

You can read the finer details of Ted’s story here (link). In summary;

  • Before catching the train to war Ted stopped in for a beer at the Waihao Forks Hotel (as you do!).
  • He left one bottle behind the bar with the publican with the intention of drinking it on his way home (from the war).
  • He was killed in action during the fighting on Crete and was buried there.
  • The bottle has been handed on as the pub has changed hands and is now in a small protected case which sits in the corner of the bar.
  • Each ANZAC day a small local service takes place and a poppie is put into the case.
Having attended one of these services at the Hotel and given the local connection I was determined to find his resting place in the huge Suda Bay cemetary. It took a while to find and to be honest it was quite a moving moment to stand there with him and read his headstone. He lies amongst other young New Zealanders, a very long way from home  and I had someone snap this picture of his headstone.
Thanks for doing your bit Ted. Sorry you didn’t make it home to drink that bottle of beer.
Lest we forget.