ABSTRACT
One evening in December 1976 I received a telephone call from Pastor Bill Reid in Bourke, New South Wales. He told me of the sudden death of Mrs Lorna Rose Dixon, who had lived in Bourke for more than thirty years. I had become very fond of Lorna during the six years we worked together. My field research in country areas of New South Wales has involved collecting Aboriginal music, languages and stories of the past. We first met in 1970 after a strenuous and rather frustrating day. Rain was pouring down and I had visited many Aborigines who either knew nothing or were out. Someone said, ‘Lorna Dixon might know something. She’s moved a lot amongst the dark people.’ When my car slithered to a halt in front of Lorna’s house, she answered the door. After a brief explanation, she happily came into the car for a chat, saying, ‘I heard you were in town and I did want you to come and see me.’ It was obvious that this warm and enthusiastic woman had great knowledge of her Wonggumara language and the past.
