We are here today to celebrate the life of Edgar Sterling Murray-Prior, known as Dad, Sterling, P’Pop, Grandpa, Da.

He was born nearly 99 years ago, on 16 May 1911 into a different world: when the population of Australia was less than 4.5 million, approximately that of metropolitan Sydney today. A month before he was born a plane flew, for the first time, non-stop between London-Paris; and when he was 4 months old, suffragettes stormed the British parliament demanding the vote. In the most part, he adapted and welcomed the incredible, dramatic changes of the next 98 years.

Sterling was the oldest boy and second of 5 children of Estella and Robert Sterling Murray-Prior. They lived at Hunters Hill, as did numerous other relatives. He was the last of the siblings to die, and in later life was closest to his youngest sister Molly after she and her husband John also moved to Wamberal.

He went to Sydney Grammar School, leaving in his Intermediate year, the 3rd year of high school. He began work as a clerk at Perpetual Trustee Company and stayed there, with a break for war service, until 1949. He was a keen member of the Mona Vale Surf Life Saving Club – keen on the swimming, sun and surf but also, as he later revealed, a rather wild social life helped by his possession first of a motor bike then a much-loved sports car. He was a keen amateur boxer and, despite a tendency to sea-sickness, he also enjoyed sailing.

Among his friends was John Pottie and when John moved to Hunters Hill, Sterling visited and so met John’s sister, Isabel Brenda. They married in November 1938 and in September 1939 were joined by their first child, [son].

Sterling’s timing, as far as family life went, was awful. World War II started less than a fortnight before Geoff was born. In July 1940 Sterling joined the AIF, the 2/9th Army Field Regiment, and remained away from his family until the war’s end. He spent a year in the Middle East, mainly in Syria, and a further time in South Australia and Queensland. He soon became a Gunner – and determinedly stayed one, not wanting to be separated from his new mates. These were men very different from the previous friends he had made as the son of a conservative barrister in the snobbish and segregated Sydney of the interwar years; many of his new mates had been wharfies and labourers. These mates became lasting friends, and featured heavily in a fund of stories about his army days. Those stories celebrated that volunteer army’s independent, larrikin streak and concluded with either a laugh or insight into the complexity of human nature. His mates came with evocative names such as Cokey Smith and Possum Groundwater: his own army nickname was Shucks, a nickname he earned after one of his numerous contributions to subverting military discipline. [he had been singled out for praise, so responded by hanging his head and saying “Oh shucks, Sarge” getting the required laugh].

Sterling was discharged from the army in November 1945. Like other war wives, Brenda coped with finding he was a profoundly changed man. It didn’t take long before another baby was on the way – Helen, born just 10 months after the end of the war. Having missed the first six years of [his son]’s life, he found special delight in Helen’s formative years [and her out-going, sporty nature]. However, he found it difficult to fit into a desk-bound civilian life again. One day he told Brenda that he wanted to leave Sydney to buy a farm and, to his lasting gratitude, she readily agreed.

In 1949, with insufficient money, they bought a farm at Hydes Creek, 4 miles outside Bellingen, on the mid-north coast. He did so largely on the recommendation and promise of support from one of Brenda’s brothers. It was a sad irony that he started farming on April Fool’s Day. The area had no electricity until 1962; there was an unsealed road; and they were without a phone or a car for some years. The two city slickers had no support; the farm had poor soil and the mid-north coast dairy industry had just begun a steep, inexorable decline into oblivion. In 1951 they had their last child, [daughter]. Despite the unsuitability of the farm, Sterling was a good farmer and worked with the Dept of Agriculture to implement progressive ideas, and with other farmers to try to win the right to sell milk to Sydney. These activities gave him hope and brought friendships but, in the end, no success.

[His son] remembers their mixed emotions when he left school. They all knew that it was impossible for [him] to stay on the farm and he had to move to Sydney – meaning a separation from normal family life. This was repeated with Helen and [other daughter], though by then communications had improved and they left school at an older age than [son]. [by the time of the last child to leave school, the 6th year had been added to high school with the Higher School Certificate replacing the Leaving Certificate]

During this period in the Bellingen district, Sterling was an active member of the RSL, as Treasurer and ultimately a club Patron. His early employment gave him expertise in understanding bureaucratic forms, and this skill was put to good use as he spent a lot of time assisting returned servicemen and their widows to gain pensions from the Department of Veteran Affairs. In doing so, he listened to sometimes painful stories about their experiences, and gave comradely support. His own and others’ experiences ensured that he was passionately against war except as a very last resort.

When Sterling reached retirement age he and Brenda decided to sub-divide the farm and retire there. These plans were foiled when a clumsy operation on a melanoma drove the cancer into his lymph glands: he was sent to Concord Hospital, operated on but told to go home and put his affairs in order and enjoy the last months of his life. To ensure a better life for his presumptive widow, they decided to move closer to Sydney. Their one stroke of luck regarding the farm was that the Bellingen area was just being discovered by those seeking a beautiful ‘tree change’ and also by APM as an area suited to growing trees for paper pulp. For the first time there was a market for the land and in 1975 they retired with a healthier bank balance than they had ever had before. They chose to move to Wamberal where Sterling rekindled his love affair with the surf and beach – though not necessarily with the rest of his previous life style!

In keeping with his past practices, Sterling subverted the authoritative expectation that he would die, and slowly got back much of his strength and fitness. With Brenda, he became a founding and very enthusiastic member of the local Garden Club and was proud of having built up a fertile, well-drained, beautiful garden from what was little more than a rubble-filled swamp. For the first time, they travelled together and never regretted their choice of retirement spot. A period of enduring joy occurred when he looked after [granddaughter], then a toddler, when she and [her mother] lived with him and Brenda for 6 months. Another joy was his wonderful neighbours, particularly two widows who still live either side of his old home: Trish and Elaine. The four had regular Friday drinks and Sterling was always happy to help out with a mattock or other tasks. He and Brenda were also firm friends with others in the small Hawea Close. In the last few years it was Trish, and comparative newcomers Dick and Phyll, who in particular repaid Sterling’s affectionate neighbourliness many times over.

Brenda died some months short of their 70th wedding anniversary, sadly suffering from dementia. During her last years of life Sterling became her main carer and learnt domestic skills. After she died, he lived alone with increasing support from the Department of Veteran Affairs who were consistently and sensitively helpful. Sue Mann’s Nursing Service provided excellent care, soon daily care, under the watchful eye of Sue who had remembered him from his early days at Wamberal, and Sue’s daughter-in-law Rebecca. He was additionally lucky in his allocated cleaner Helen and also carer Jan who took him shopping as well as a wonderful service from Meals on Wheels. His great joy was to sit on the patio of his peaceful garden, seeing his visitors and checking the financial pages for the fate of his shares.

Since his first operation, Sterling had other melanomas, treated by the Sydney Melanoma Clinic at Royal Prince Alfred Hospital. When he and [his younger daughter] returned, it is typical that he was warmly recognised by Margaret the Clinical Trials nurse and soon had an array of admirers. With little other option, he decided to join a clinical trial: dye was injected into 30 melanomas, all on one leg. The treatment worked but was agonising (especially in the second leg given the extent of the melanomas so that his nerves were exposed and irritated) age and illness took their toll. He was admitted to hospital, then in September 2009 discharged to Courtlands, the nursing home where he died last Monday night.

For the last years of his life Sterling had one ambition which, towards the end, was an obsession: he wanted to die. As he told everyone, he had no fear of death and had had a good life. He was especially proud that his children had overcome any deficiencies in their education and upbringing on a poor farm, and that each in their own very different ways, were happy and successful. He was particularly comforted by the love and pride he had for his grandchildren – because of them, and their delightful children, he knew he had left a legacy to be very proud of. In the end, his physical toughness and strength betrayed him, prolonging his life. It was a great comfort that the staff at Courtlands, as well as family and friends, did all they could to minimise his suffering, and reassure him in his impatience to find lasting peace. May he now rest in that peace.

[written by [younger daughter] with family input]