The life story of Anni-Frid Lyngstad, the dark-haired singer from the pop group, ABBA is a fascinating one. It’s one of those classic rags to riches stories, with a fair amount of personal tragedy along the way. But it’s also one with an fascinating historical context, and one which provided the compelling narrative for the documentary, “Norways Nazi Secret” which screened last night on Foxtel’s “History Channel”.
At the heart of the program was the story of her mother, Synni’s relationship with Alfred Haase, a member of the German occupying forces in Norway during the Second World War. Although the program makes the case theirs was a two-year love story, the program locates their narrative within the context of the bizarre Nazi scheme which encouraged German soldiers to “breed” with “racially pure” Norwegian women.
According to the documentary, there were many thousands of children in a smilar circumstance to Anni-Frid, who who were often born in special hospitals and asylums, and whose early lives were closely monitored and meticulously documented by the Nazi’s, with each child asssigned a “Lebensborn number”. Although the program explains how many of the young women saw nothing more in their relationship than, say, “the attraction of a uniform”, the program also explains how many of these young women were seen as traitors. When the war ended, many of the women and the children found themselves shunned by the broader community, with the children sometimes placed in mental institions.
Synni Lyngstad Grave, captured from tv special.
Anni-Frid was luckier. To escape the shame associated with her birth, Anni-Frid she was taken at a young age by her grandmother to Torshalla, a small town in Sweden. Soon afterwards, her mother followed, though Synni died soon afterwards, aged twenty-one, from kidney disease. Although it’s said Anni-Frid’s father, Alfred had promised to return to Norway after the war, he never did, and thus Anni-Frid was raised by her grandmother.
Although Anni-Frid escaped most of the excesses of abuse faced by other children in a similar circumstances, the program concludes her vdecision not to speak publically about the associated issues is evidence that she too has felt a life-long shame. One of Anni-Frid’s early musical influences, Charlie Norman, also describes how in her early life, she would always avoid discussion about her heritage, and was always a little withdrawn.
In the 1970s, however, at the peak of ABBA’s popularity, Anni-Frid was contacted by her father, Alfred Haase. In his book, “Bright Lights, Dark Shadows”, one of those interviewed for the documentary, Carl Magnus Palm, explained the apprehension Anni-Frid felt about meeting her father for the first time. For reasons unknown, Anni-Frid and Alfred no longer maintain contact. And until this particular documentary, the only other time this story received widespread coverage was when Haase appeared in a German tabloid magazine, pleading with Anni-Frid to resume contact.
Over the years there have been a number of newsaper article and television programs which have touched on the story of Frida’s heritage, and I thought this was one of the best I’ve seen. The program doesn’t seek to be a “tell all documentary” about “Frida’s Nazi Past”. This is a series program which seeks to tell an important story, using the story of a well-known person to personalise the narrative. That the program features people like Carl Magnus Palm, who I really respect, as well as a child-hood friend of Synni Lyngstad, as well as the photographer, Bubi Heilimann who had a friendship with Frida also gives it an air of credibility and respectability.
Sepsis caused my amputation, and each year in Australia, 84000 people get it and 12000 die.
The bloke wearing the shirt told me each year in the NTFL they have a round in memory of a young player who got it and died.
Hopefully this helps create awareness.
If you think you’ve got Covid (like me) or the flu (like some amputees I’ve met), it’s a great reminder of asking a question about a condition which is often undiagnosed.
My heart sunk when news came through this afternoon of a confirmed COVID case in Lismore.
According to the local area health service, someone who attended Goonellabah Public School on Monday has tested positive. The school has been closed for deep cleaning. And there’s a feeling in the community (as evidenced by Facebook comments), it’s only a matter of time before we’re forced back into lockdown.
The comments are mixed. For many, there’s anger, as people try to understand how someone could have come into contact with the condition after five or six weeks of lockdown. “They must have broken the lockdown and travelled to an infected area” is one school of thought. Another school of thought notes the child involved may have been asymptomatic, so there was no apparent need for the child to be held back from school.
Unlike the previous case, a man from Sydney, this involves a local family, so there’s bound to be a greater degree of anger from the local community because “it’s one of us”. A friend with a family member who works in Education says the family visited Sydney, despite the lockdown. “It’s only a matter of time before everyone knows who it is”, a family member who works in Health commented. Get ready for the pitchforks!
Me? I’ve gone through emotions from anger to sadness. Sadness, because I had only just booked a flight back to Sydney. Even though inner Sydney is now becoming a focus for the outbreak, I figured I might as well return home. I was on the verge of telling my family who are deeply concerned I would be returning to something resembling Albert Camus’ “The Plague”. Anger, because I knew this means those plans probably can’t go ahead.
Though I could dwell on this for quite some time, I thought I might share some photographs I’ve taken over the last few days.
BEFOR THE NEWS: As I walked past the Lismore Baths, I noticed they had re-opened for the summer, and after the lockdown. Sadly, it’s only for regular laps right now, and not a bit of a splash about. I’m not serious enough as a swimmer to be one of those people who likes to do constant laps. I like to do slaps, have a bit of a splash about, rest for a while, and then do a few more laps etc. I think lap swimmers would probably find me annoying, so I’m either going to look for an especially quiet time, or maybe wait until I get back to Sydney.Lismore Memorial BathsBehind the levee bank, LismoreThe public toilet in the Brown’s Creek Car Park gets a new look, thanks to some awesome public art.Though they’re labelled “budget accommodation” these days, they were mostly previously known as “boarding houses”. Nearby, there’s a “soup kitchen” (not sure if that’s still the correct term) which recently had (to my surprise) a reasonably lengthy queue. #signofthetimesPhyllis Street, South Lismore. Lovely, late afternoon light.Spotted one of these at the South Lismore Bakery. Though they’re calling it a “French Pastry” these days, I remember it as an “Elephant’s Ear”. Can someone please give the coronary ward at Lismore Base Hospital a heads up?
“Haven’t you just been on holiday?”, a colleague asked me as we chatted on the phone today. “No, I’ve been in Lismore for a family funeral, and then stayed almost four more months because of COVID”, I told him. “Yeah, but didn’t you just do a big trip in the country, out west?”, he went on to ask, to which I replied, “That was a year ago”.
Clearly some colleagues have the idea that I’m always on holiday, or maybe I just make my job look pretty easy, so they think I am? I’d like to think it’s more of the latter, and not so much of the former.
No, it’s definitely the latter, as I’ve reached that point where I need to take some time off.
You may remember a year or so ago I did “Work Free Wednesdays?” I’d reached that point where I had “too much” annual leave saved up. And instead of taking a lengthy break, I had negotiated with my manager to take one day off each week for a bit of “me time”.
To be honest, I worked as many hours as I would in a normal week, extending the other days a little more. But it was still nice to be able to put on the “out of office” automatic reply, and go to galleries, meet friends, and go for a swim on a Wednesday, without feeling guilty about it.
I’m back at that stage again because there’s been no recent desire or need to take a holiday in the midst of COVID. I’ll start doing that again soon.
In between, a friend and I are taking a holiday in mid-November, which will see us visiting places in the Eastern Riverina, like Tumut, Adelong and Tumbarumba.
It’s been thirty years since I was working in Wagga and visiting these places on a regular basis. I’m sure they’ve changed, but I’m also sure they’ve remained similar in many ways. I’m looking forward to going back to those places and also visiting some places I haven’t been to before, such as the Yarrangobilly Caves.
My friend is now living in Wagga, and it was my intention to visit her a few times throughout the year. You-know-what got in the way of that. And even right now, despite the end of lockdown, there are still restrictions impacting on what she can do, and what I can do. Right now, people in regional NSW can’t visit Sydney and vice versa. But within a few weeks, we’ll be able to see each other, and that’s why we’re planning this long-overdue holiday.
“Do you have any tips for travel in the area?”, I asked last night on Twitter. “Have a backup plan” was the rather amusing response.
But even so, as we plan our trip, do you have any tips? We’re heading out from Wagga, and basing ourselves in Tumut for a few days.
“The last time I was in Tumut”, I told my friend, “was the night KFC opened. There was a three or four-kilometre queue through the drive-through”.
I can’t recall if it was 1992 or 1993 when I last visited Tumut. I dare not show this photograph to my bosses, these days, given the WH&S implications of it all.Here’s a much nicer photograph taken in the outside broadcast van. As you can see, I was much, much younger the last time I visited Tumut.
We’re planning to visit the caves, the dams, the wineries at Tumbarumba, and the Pioneer Hut Museum. We’ll go to the broom factory and the brewery in Tumut. But do you have any other travel tips for that part of the world?
Today, I’m sharing an interview with former NRL referee Bill Harrigan from my own career archives, having worked in radio for a fairly long time.
I’m not too sure how many people outside of dedicated Rugby League fans remember Bill now, but back in the late 1990s and early 2000s, he was a legend—the face of refereeing in the game. When he released his autobiography, The Bill Harrigan Story, I interviewed him about his life both on and off the field.
🎙️ Summary of the Bill Harrigan Interview
In this interview, Bill Harrigan offers a rare perspective on refereeing Rugby League, explaining that he can’t enjoy the game like a spectator because he’s constantly focusing on rules and angles, noting that television angles often misrepresent his view. He addresses the public perception that he is “arrogant” and “up himself,” stating that his autobiography was intended to change that view by revealing his background as a police officer and his personality. Harrigan recounts a terrifying experience in 1985 while serving with the Tactical Response Group during the Bathurst bike riots, where he was fire-fighting police officers hit by Molotov cocktails and had to run for his life after chasing a rioter. He clarifies that he left the police force not due to fear, but for the opportunity to become a full-time referee in 1995. Finally, he shares the humorous anecdote of appearing on the dating show Perfect Match in the early eighties to win a travel prize, admitting he and his match “spiced it up” for the cameras even though he was seeing someone else. He concludes by expressing concern about his career prospects after retirement, noting the financial necessity of finding a new job immediately.
🎙️ ABC ARCHIVES: Interview with Bill Harrigan
Bill Harrigan: First. I’m involved in the game that much that it’s a methodical thing where I’m just going through the rules and watching the play and calling the shots and all that sort of thing. So I don’t get to enjoy it like a spectator does in the grandstand all back in, you know, sitting in their lounge room. And that’s why I’ve got to go home and watch it. And I haven’t had an opportunity yet. I’ve been too busy since the grand final. But in saying that too, I get a whole a different view to what you do. And a lot of people make this mistake. They go, oh, why didn’t he see that forward pass? But they’re seeing it from the camera angle or from where they’re sitting in the grandstand. Now, when I’m down on ground level, I’m looking through I’ve got a different angle completely. So I’ve got a different perspective of it. I’ve got players in front of me. Um, I may be looking at something else and just miss something. And yet people say, oh, how could he miss that? But they’re seeing a completely different angle to what I am.
James O’Brien: Do you ever get confused by what’s going on? Do you ever find yourself thinking, hang on, stuff’s going on here. I don’t know what’s going on.
Bill Harrigan: You do that sometimes if you get a pinball effect. And that is when someone kicks the ball and then it hits somebody and it ricochets off him and hits somebody else and then hits somebody else, and then all of a sudden somebody’s got the ball and running and you’re thinking, what happened there? And then you quickly replay it back in your mind and you go hit him. Went to him, went to him. It’s okay. Play on or you go knock on.
James O’Brien: So even though if it’s not immediately obvious, you still can sort of recount things.
Bill Harrigan: Yeah. The biggest thing is to try and get it right. And so sometimes you may have a, it might only be a second, second and a half delay in making a decision, but that seems like an eternity to everybody else because you’re thinking, jeez, he blew that whistle late. What’s going on? But what you’re doing is you’re replaying it over in your mind and you’re going, bang! Yeah, that happened, that happened, that happened. Oh yeah. Play on or do this. And that’s why the delays there.
James O’Brien: Now you’re out and about promoting your autobiography. Why do you think people want to read the Bill Harrigan story?
Bill Harrigan: Um, well, I’m hoping I’ve got a profile big enough and people are interested enough to pick up the book and have a look at it. And when they do, and they read about it because it’s not just about football and about my refereeing days. It’s about days in the cops and growing up and my beliefs and that sort of thing. But I think the biggest thing that I’m trying to achieve there is there is a perception of who Bill Harrigan is or who I’m like.
James O’Brien: What do you think the perception is?
Bill Harrigan: Well, the perception is that this bloke’s up himself and he’s arrogant and all that sort of thing. And and my wife had that at the start with the guy who wrote the book with me, Daniel Lane. His attitude was, yeah, this this bloke’s Hollywood. He’s certainly changed. When you pick up the book and you read it, I think you’ll change your opinion.
James O’Brien: There are some really interesting little bits of trivia in the book that I came across. I mean, obviously we know the big picture story, but there are a couple of nice little stories that I hope you might tell. Uh, in the mid eighties, you were part of the Tactical Response group of the New South Wales Police. You were in a pretty dangerous situation in Bathurst at Easter with the bike riots. Can you explain what happened there?
Bill Harrigan: Yes. Nineteen eighty five Bathurst bike races. And every year it’s. And it’s not bikie gangs either. It’s just bikers who go up there and some of them then drink too much. Think okay, let’s have a bit of fun. We’ll go out and we’ll rock the police compound. And so they start rocking it with bottles and rocks. Then it becomes Molotov cocktails and soaked toilet rolls and petrol. So they’re all flaming on fire.
James O’Brien: How old were you at the time?
Bill Harrigan: Um, back then, I was twenty five years of age, and I’d been, uh, two and a half, three years in the elite Tactical Response Group. I was in that from day one when it first was put together. Um, we’d trained for it. We got called up to help protect the twelve police officers that were just up there roaming the, you know, the hill and policing the hill just as they normally would. Um, they come under fire. So we got called up there. Out we went. By this time, there was a crowd of, you know, around four thousand people had surrounded the compound and the compound was on fire. The roof was on fire. They were out there trying to put that out. There was bottles and rocks being slammed all over the place, and we had to run out and try and stop the crowd from attacking the compound and just disperse them.
James O’Brien: How scared were you?
Bill Harrigan: Well, I was packing it. Yeah, absolutely. packing it. And, um, you know, you can put a lot more blunt than that, but we won’t. Um, but I was very scared out there. I was fearful for my life. Because in the end, as things happen, I got blokes standing beside me getting hit with Molotov cocktails. And the first hour and a half I was the fireman of of a particular line which had twelve fellows in it. If a molotov cocktail or a firebomb come over, I would run to where it looked like it was going to land. If it landed amongst our team, we wouldn’t break our line. You had to stand there and and cop it. So when it shattered, the petrol would flame and it would engulf that person. So we had fire resistant uniforms and everything on, but you still were lit up. My job was to straight away douse him with the extinguisher, put him out, and then if he had got on me, then whack it off on me as well. So that’s what I did. For the first hour and a half. One police officer, he panicked. He turned and ran. He broke the line and was running away. And I had to chase him. You can see me on footage running after him, um, trying to put him out with this extinguisher. Then after that, I went off the fireman’s position for other reasons, and I come back out into the line. And then we were called to charge, and we’d charge forward and move the crowd back, and then we’d have to regroup when we heard the whistle. And on one occasion, there was one guy who was urinating in bottles, throwing him at us, hitting us. Coppers were going down left, right and centre from this guy, and two of us chased him and we got that close to him when we heard the whistle blow to come back and reform. And both of us thought we’ve got him. And so we just went that a little bit further, chasing him, and all of a sudden we’ve chased him too far and we found ourselves amongst a crowd that then turned on us, and we end up having to run for our lives.
James O’Brien: Was it incidents like that which convinced you to leave the police force?
Bill Harrigan: No. I only left the police force eventually because I was offered the job full time refereeing. And that was something.
James O’Brien: That because you were doing part time refereeing at this stage, weren’t you?
Bill Harrigan: Yeah, I was still part time refereeing, and that was back in eighty five. And I went full time in ninety five.
James O’Brien: Was it was it a hard decision or. Um.
Bill Harrigan: No. It was. Well, yeah, it took a long time. But in the end I always I thought I was juggling refereeing and family and police work. So at the end of nineteen ninety five, I was going to retire. All I wanted to do was have one year with the new expanded competition. Because Perth had come into the competition, Auckland had come into the competition, then Super League came along in ninety five and offered full time work for referees. And so I said, yeah, that’s me. I want to have a go at this. And then I didn’t have to juggle everything around.
James O’Brien: The other bit of trivia I found from reading your book is that you were once back in the early eighties on the notorious TV show Perfect Match.
Bill Harrigan: Yes, I.
James O’Brien: Was. And you were picked.
Bill Harrigan: And I was.
James O’Brien: Picked. Okay. Can you tell us what happened there?
Bill Harrigan: Yeah, I went on that, and that was well before I was a first grade referee. So I was just unknown back in those days. But I went on I had the travel bug and I thought, yeah, I’d love to go on this. And they’re giving prizes out to travel to Bali and cruises and all that sort of thing. Why not? Yeah. So I’ll go on it. I went on there, fortunate enough to be picked, had a weekend trip to Bali, um, came back, told our story, went back on the show, ended up being the perfect match. As far as the Dexter rating goes with Wendy, the girl that chose me. We had a seventy five percent match rating, so we got an extra prize. We got one stereo system each, and I just thought the whole thing was fun and it was a great time.
James O’Brien: But you were seeing someone else at the time?
Bill Harrigan: Yes. So I had another girlfriend and I met her after I’d already applied for the show. And so I said, look, I’ve applied for this perfect match, so, you know, should I go on? And she said, yeah, that’d be great, go on and have some fun. So I did go on it. And when we came back, Wendy and I did say, look, ten couples go away each week. Only five get back on the show to tell their story. If we don’t get on, let’s make it. We really didn’t get on. So they want us to go back on the show. And if we do get on, let’s just spice it up a little bit to make it look like we really did get on well. So we still get on there to get the next prize. Yeah. Um, we got on, so we spiced it up, but it was just too spicy.
James O’Brien: See the showman even then, weren’t you?
Bill Harrigan: Yeah, I suppose so.
James O’Brien: Got me in terms of your future. Now what? After you retire from being a referee.
Bill Harrigan: If I decide to retire in the off season, which is what I’m contemplating, whether I come back again for another year or not. Um, I hope that there’s something out there for him in the media. I really I’m at a loss because I had seventeen and a half years in the police. Um, I’ve given that away and I’m thinking, okay, what am I going to do now? And, you know, the money that I’ve earned from refereeing is not enough to turn around and say, hey, I can give this one. No wonder I’m nowhere near what the players earn. So I have to get a job. So as soon as I retire, I’ve got to go and get a job. Otherwise mortgage and food on the table and everything just goes out the door. Um, so I’m just like anybody else there. What I’m going to do, I don’t know. And certainly that will come into consideration.
My head tells me I should go to bed straight away, as it’s close to midnight and I need to be awake at five o’clock in the morning to be at work at six. Actually, to be honest, although I set the alarm for five o’clock, I usually hit the snooze button a couple of times, and, being so close to work, I can still make it by six. But I just can’t go to bed just yet, as I’m still quite pumped from having seen the Ensemble Theatre Company’s production of “Death of a Salesman”.
I have always been vaguely aware of Arthur Miller’s work, having studied “The Crucible” at high school. However, I’ve never seen a production of his best known play, “Death of a Salesman”. And so when Colin and I were sitting in the theatre tonight waiting for the show to start, I asked him for a brief outline of the plot. Put very simply: it’s the story of a man who, close to retirement, with many regrets, kills himself.
In deciding to go, the star attraction for me was Jackie Weaver as the wife. I think she’s such a fantastic actor and one of those people who, when on stage, just makes you feel good.
However, it was Jackie’s real life husband – and husband in the play – who was the real surprise attraction. He was absolutely tremendous in the title role. There were so many people from my own life – friends and family (and probably a bit of myself) – who I could see in the characterisation he provided. Truly fantastic, especially as he maintained such a strong and consistent performance over a fairly lengthy play.
Also, the actor who played the son “Biff” was excellent. In this character too, I could see many parralels with the issues all of us struggle with as we search for meaning. Like his father, he too, had regrets about an apparent sense of failure.
The most moving scene for me was the funeral scene. The look on Jackie Weaver’s face, that look of desolate grief, was overwhelming. As I looked into her eyes, tears swelled up in mine, eventually rolling down my right cheek.
At one moment I thought of the father son relationship as being like that explored in “Cat On A Hot Tin Roof”. And then I began to think about plays like “Who’s Afraid Of Virginia Woolf” and some of the other great works of American theatre. At that point I wondered if, we too, have a similar theatrical tradition in Australia. I concluded that although we have some great plays, we probably don’t have many of those plays which have the same international appeal. We often go for the quirky, the uniquely Australian, and we often don’t like to “spell it out” as obviously as American theatre often does. We also often use humour to diffuse an exploration of some of those “great issues” of life. That may or may not be a good thing.
Overall though I thought it was a great play. Great actors, too. And the set was simple. There was nothing to distract you from the play itself, which contains so many memorable scenes and memorable lines. The kind of lines that you don’t just let slip by as “good one liners”. They’re the kind of lines that you listen to, and then reflect upon for moments afterwards. Don’t ask me to repeat some of them now, though, as it’s close to midnight and I should be in bed.
We hadn’t planned to travel from Parkes to Griffith via Condobolin; the original plan was to drive via Forbes. But when we took an unplanned, but very enjoyable trip to Forbes yesterday, I thought we should try an alternative. In the end, it didn’t add much time to our trip, but resulted in a very enjoyable discovery.
Utes in the Paddock was a concept brought to fruition by Jana and Graham Pickles of Burrawang West Station which has significantly increased visitation to the Central West region over the last eight years. Lachlan Shire Council is honoured to be entrusted as caretaker of the gallery and has committed to dedicate time, energy and marketing resources to further develop and promote the outdoor gallery into the future.
It has been eight years since the first Ute began the outdoor gallery near Ootha and four years since the last of 20 “Ute works” was installed. It has been moved to Condobolin and today, Utes in the Paddock attracts thousands of visitors who view the collection for the first time or revisit this unique Australian bush attraction.
As we walked past the exhibition of about a dozen utes, there were lots of laugh out loud moments. Judging by the reaction of the dozen or so other people also walking around, we weren’t the only ones.
There’s heaps more, but these were my favourites. If you’re ever travelling in the area around Condobolin (it’s almost the dead centre, geographically speaking of NSW), I’d highly recommend taking some time to stop, visit and enjoy this wonderful outdoor exhibtion.
Huh. I never knew that. Thanks. CB