Welcome everyone.
This is a place for sharing messages, stories and photos in memory of Nevell.
It would be great if you could put dates and places on the photos if possible and you can contact Rinchen at hrinchen@gmail.com if you have any question or suggestions.
Obituary
Many people were saddened to hear of Nevell’s death. He died peacefully on 3 August 2024, 2 months short of his 94th birthday after several years of living with prostate cancer.
There’s no way to detail all of his adventures, or all of the lives he touched… but here is a short overview of his life.
He spent the first 60 years of his life in Berambing, in the Blue Mountains west of Sydney.
Nev was born on 30 September 1930 at the Crown Street Women's Hospital in Sydney to Mary Hungerford nee Cremin (Gran)and Clarence. Clarence drove them home, accompanied by the large Pacific Maple dining table on the backseat of their Buick tourer. He was the youngest of four kids.
His siblings were Molly, Natalie, and Brian. He and his brother Brian slept out on the verandah at their home “Burando” in Berambing throughout their childhood.
Being born into the great depression meant that there was never much money around, however their life at Burando was "subsistence rich". They had chickens, a house cow, plenty of firewood, rainwater and a good veggie garden.
The walls of Burando were lined on the inside with flat galvanised iron to strengthen the house against the gales that blew there and to protect the home against bushfires. They rattled fiercely in the wind. Burando is thought to mean "windy place"in the local Darug language.
Nevell spent much of his primary school years doing correspondence school being supervised by Mary, his mother, cousin Aunty Hope. He also spent some time at the Bilpin primary School which struggled to stay open due to lack of numbers. In 1942 he went to Richmond rural school to do grade 6 and boarded in Richmond with Mrs Blackwood.
This was at the beginning of World War II and there were air raid sirens, trenches and Kittyhawk fighters at the Richmond RAAF base. Nevell worked hard and earned a scholarship to Hurlston agriculture high school at Glenfield, on the southern side of Sydney, which he attended until his leaving. During these war years, he spent a lot of his time at boarding school, and he was actually there when the Japanese submarines raided Sydney Harbour.
Nevell loved reading and was very much encouraged to read by both parents. He often described how fantastic it was to curl up in a warm bed out in the chilly night air on the verandah and read a fresh book from the Bush Book Club by flickering candlelight. The verandah was a place to sleep, a place to play in, a place to do schoolwork, a place to read wonderful books and to gaze at the moon and the stars while in bed. It was even a source of grapes both sweet and sour - whose descendants he continued growing in QLD, and passed on his Granddaughter.
He and Brian spent a lot of time working on the farm, doing their chores as well as spending time and exploring down the back in the scrub and along the sandstone cliffs and Mill Creek in what now is the Blue Mountains and Wollemi World Heritage National Parks.
Nevell saw a lot of changes in his life. His first decade was spent in the great depression at home in the bush, with a father ravaged by World War 1, and his second saw the Second World War. It's not surprising that after finishing school, and a year as a surveyor’s apprentice, he chucked it all in and went back home to Berambing, where he continued to live and work for the next 40+ years.
He joined his father Clarence and brother Brian in cutting timber and milling it in the mill at Burando. That’s where he famously lost two fingers in a mill accident.
He was one of the original "Bilpin boys" who, during the late 1940’s and early 50’s, rode motorbikes with reckless abandon around the place. Right up until the day he died, he loved reminiscing about their adventures. His love of bikes and cars and tractors never diminished.
He bought a piece of land from his father which he paid off by working with bees and timber. He met and married Karen Tyssen, in Berambing after her family had migrated from Holland.
Together they built a house which their family grew. They went on to develop the land by clearing and planting apples, peaches, plums and strawberries. Also growing waratahs, potatoes, swedes and three children.
Nev was always known as a very practical person and a hard worker, making things that he needed rather than buying them. He liked tinkering and always made things 10 times stronger than they needed to be. In the early days it was with hardwood timber, and wire rope, welding, then 4 inch nails and 8 gauge fencing wire; in modern times it was with builders bog and liquid nails.
He was very involved in the Bilpin Bush Fire Brigade for well over 30 years holding positions of Captain and group Captain.
In the 1990s, at the bright age of 61 he started teaching Rural skills to TAFE students and that led him to many parts of the Asia-Pacific. As part of the Australian Volunteers International Programme he spent time in PNG, Palau, Philippines, Timor-Leste, and Indonesia. Always sharing his practical knowledge with all who needed it, helping grow food, build shelter, and get clean water. He always said he learnt more from his hosts than he taught them, whether they were villagers with no clean water, or prisoners doing land repair, or refugees who needed food and shelter.
Nev sold the farm and moved to Queensland, spending most of his time volunteering overseas and in Australia in remote indigenous communities as well as his locale. Nev had a deep respect for all of humanity from all nations, was firmly committed to caring for the planet and its people. He inspired and mentored many over the years, both here in the community and across the globe.
In 2006 his home in Maleny, to get away from the busy coast and the awkward Body Corp at Golden Beach. He did another stint in Timor-Leste, and then one last one overseas with the strawberry growers in Bandung Indonesia.
In the late 2000s he began volunteering in Australia's indigenous communities with Indigenous Community Volunteers. Again supporting the communities by adding his skills for building housing, water, and food structures, to their own. This took him to many remote corners of our country. He also volunteered locally with meals on wheels, volunteer driving for those needing community support, and more.
He will be very sadly missed by his children Eddy, Alice and Nicky, grandchildren Ella, Belle, Star and Rinchen, and Great grandchildren, Jih, Liam, Karma and Aquila; as well as his companion and partner Trish (Pat) Powell, and his former wife Karen, whom he remained friends with until the day he died, and of course his adopted family from around the world.
Rest in peace Nev.
Gallery
Memory wall
No doubt Nevell and my father, Gordon Waterhouse, also a horticulturist, were acquainted through common interests and life in the Bilpin and Kurrajong Heights hinterland. Nevell’s sister Natalie, who had a heart of pure gold, opened her home to the Waterhouses when tragedy struck our family, and provided a welcoming home for James and me over many months in 1969. I would have seen Nevell from time to time over that period, but didn’t get to know him. We met again at Natalie’s funeral in 1980.
Fast forward to 1993. While participating as botanist in a joint PNG/Australia plant and animal health and biosecurity survey in border regions of Western and Sandaun Provinces in PNG, our team travelled from Kiunga upstream along the swollen Fly River by banana boats, to complete pest and disease surveys at the East Awin refugee settlements. Our visit necessitated an overnight stay, and we had carried some food and camping equipment with us.
Our team was greeted at the boat landing by a somewhat grumpy Aussie agricultural adviser, along with several helpers and vehicles. No doubt the arrival of a team of ‘government blow-ins’ came at relatively short notice and as an inconvenience and strain on scarce resources.
Following a brief round of introductions (first names only), Judy, my entomologist colleague and good buddy and I were ushered into Nevell’s vehicle for the slow and slippery drive to the first community. Trying to break the ice, our conversation went something like this:
Barb: “Where are you from, Nevell”?
Nevell: “A small place in NSW”.
By now I suspected that I was in for a surprise, Barb: “Oh, whereabouts”?
Nevell: “You wouldn’t know it”.
Barb: “Try me”.
Nevell: “In the Hawkesbury region near Sydney”.
Barb: “Go on…”.
Nevell: “Near Bilpin”.
Barb: “OMG, you’re Nevell Hungerford!! I’m Barbara Waterhouse from Kurrajong Heights and lived at your sister Natalie’s place for a while”.
Nevell had to concentrate on the slippery road, but the shared disbelief and emotion in the vehicle were palpable and followed up with a joyous hug when we exited the vehicle. From that moment onwards I was introduced everywhere as Nevell’s “Wantok” (literally ‘one talk’) and the entire team was treated like royalty. It also meant that Judy and I didn’t have to camp that night, comfy beds were found for us with an expat couple working at East Awin, and we were treated to a delicious dinner. Conditions were a little more basic for the men on our team although they had a roof over their heads and remained dry when it rained that night.
It was obvious that Nevell was admired and respected. His role was to try and establish a degree of self-sufficiency in each of the c. 20 communities. Many of the refugees, who had fled from the Indonesian side of the border had urban backgrounds. Numbered amongst them were academics and political figures, but most lacked the fundamental skills in food production.
While tinged with regret that Nevell and I didn’t remain in contact afterwards, this unexpected meeting in a very remote and inhospitable part of PNG, remains as a highlight of my working life.
From reading the obituaries, it is obvious that Nevell leaves an immense legacy from years spent applying his skills in horticulture, agriculture and practical life experience in humanitarian pursuits, far away from the home comforts that most of us take for granted.
My sincere condolences to the extended Hungerford family.
‘Tenkyu tru’ Nevell, R.I.P.
Remembering many happy times.
Sjoerd Tyssen
But my first glimpse of Nev had filled me with apprehension & dread as I saw my new and only fellow volunteer emerge from the Kiunga shop with cartons of beer on his shoulders! Drunkenness was a problem amongst local staff, then unknown to him. Nev thought he'd have hospitality drinks for months but his 'instant friends' demolished supplies on his first night in camp. Soon, Nev was sheltering staff wives fleeing drunken homes & diligently observed the new all camp alcohol ban until my birthday!
Nev's practical,can-do farmer skills saw him out felling forest trees with his refugee gang & building packing cases to transport camp grown vegetables for sale down the Fly in Kiunga. I recall him driving his issued 'estate' ca, no windscreen, missing doors down the long mud track that linked the many refugee villages to save me from a sweaty return trek. Nev would stretch across kids' desk tops & snooze till I finished my teachers' English class. He became a voluntary 'ambulance' truck driver down to the Fly rampsite but saw the death of the young librarian in childbirth before making it to River to Kiunga hours downstream.
Memories galore of Nev pumping my water for me, sharing his one pot meals, telling me I " scrubbed up well' before a camp event, & sitting through Masses to be with his friends.
Vale Nev, a valued, humble friend in Iowara and over the 25+ years since. Sincere and celebratory Condolences to family & friends lucky too to have shared Nev's joy & gentle tales of exploits saved in memories and published books. Christine Stewart
accept our apologies and we send our deepest condolences with love at this time💞
Tony has had a very long friendship with Nevell from when they first became brothers in law in the 60s. Tony enthusiastically embraced apple picking but Nevell and Karen soon “promoted” him to the packing shed when his red/green colour blindness was deemed an unsatisfactory attribute for apple picking. Next was a joint venture to grow swedes between the apple tree rows on a nearby farm that Nev was looking after for a Pitt Street farmer. Tony would drive from Blacktown where he and Helen lived to Bilpin to weed the “wretched things” (he’s still not fond of Swedes). They harvested, chopped bits off, washed and packed them in sacks and sent them to Sydney markets just in time for the price to drop. Tony has great memories and much enjoyed the times they had together back then.
Nevell became a special friend to me as well when Tony and I bought an old apple farm in Pialligo in Canberra in the early 90s. Nev’s knowledge and mentoring was invaluable as we got up and going. In return I think the rookie farmers brought him great amusement and he was a good mate and let me find out about Tony’s apple picking skills for myself. Over the years we had many fun times together, camping at Tony’s place at Bemboka where he helped Tony build a loo with a view for me. When we visited Nev at Golden Beach he took us in his tinny with an outboard across to Bribie Island and Tony insisted on rowing back with Nev waving on passing motorboats as they offered us a tow telling them Tony needed the practice. They agreed and we laughed so much we nearly ran aground on a sand bar in the channel. In more recent years after we moved to North Queensland, we saw Nev whenever we travelled back to Canberra or Brisbane. It was with great pleasure we watched the joyful relationship Nev and Trish found with each other and were honoured they made the not insignificant trip on the train up to stay with us. We enjoyed their company greatly and think of Trish now too as after their separation earlier this year she will no longer have those daily phone calls.
Nevell was a very special friend whose knowledge was broad and was always championing justice and fairness and raging against a world that is not good at either, kind and generous to a fault, it was hard to do anything for him. We will miss him and his sense of humour greatly.
Our thoughts now are with his family as you grieve for your loss. He so loved you all, talked of you often and celebrated all your achievements and joys and ruminated on any ills or anything that was troubling any of you so we know you will miss his wise council, advice and humour while you celebrate having had him in your lives for so long. At rest now.
I feel honoured that he gave me a copy of his family history he had written, which I enjoyed very much to read. When I decided to move to Maleny, Nev was "like an uncle" whom I could always turn to with my questions. We shared many cups of coffees and talked about many aspects of life. He has always been optimistic, realistic, caring and intelligently funny. Our humour was a good match. I knew he and Trish liked to go to the 2 weekly film afternoons. A few weeks ago I asked him if I could invite him, as Trish was already in a nursing home. Nev declined as he did not feel fit for outings any more.
I just wanted to ring him or text him, when Alice notified me that Nev had fallen asleep forever. I will always miss him and think of him with friendly love and respect, as my "Maleny uncle".
It was my ‘special’ connection with Nev that kept us in regular contact after I left home—we shared the same birthday. “Happy birthday, Uncle Nev! How are things going this year?”
Sometimes, I’d miss a year, but Dad would show me the long letters Nev sent him when he was overseas, “saving the world” (as we’d call it). Dad was quietly proud of his little brother. I wonder if Dad ever thought Nev would outlive him by 18 years? Wow!
What I loved most about Nev was that he was okay with showing his emotions—I saw him laugh, and I saw him cry. The latter was unusual for a man of his generation, and I felt in awe of his authenticity. I also loved the cranky Uncle Nev, who solidly maintained the family tradition of mailing politicians letters and letters to the editor. Go, Uncle Nev!
Nev lived a long and meaningful life that touched many people. What more could any of us want/have?
Vale, Uncle Nevell. XOX.
My main interactions with Nev were thru meals on wheels. He was probably in his 80s and still delivering to old people. Always patient, cheerful and caring. 🙏 Di Brown
So sorry to hear for the passing of your Dad.
My heartfelt condolence and prayers are with you and the whole family!!!.
I'm grateful and always remember Nevell in my heart as a sweet, gentle, kind, and generous heart to help out in any way for my sister in law Trish!!!
May your soul Nevell rest in peace through the rich mercy of God.🙏
With my prayers and love. ❤️
Flora
🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹
I was in a very sad funeral of an old lady when Nic sent a text last Saturday: “Nev passed away this morning. He had been in hospital the last few days, and he died in peace and no pain. The magpies were all out the front of his room”.
A week before Nic had informed his health condition that was not good. In the meantime Nic and Nev sent me a picture; he was in one of his favourite t-shirt I gave around 10 years ago. And they said I would inherit an old book of Nev.
Several years ago I was given a book he written. It is about the migration of the Hungerford family to Australia and the to Bilpin and then Maleny. He described the dramatic voyage from Europe,- the dead and burial to the bottom of ocean of siblings; parents; children of his grand grand father. Nev also described how the survivors struggled during the difficult times. Nev put them in his way.
As a chatting friend, Nev was smart, always funny, and sarcastic in expressing his anger to the politician who less sensitive to environment or other social issues. And he was good in explaining the history of ancient Greek to Rome and up to date with the global issues as well. We had chatted online sometime on some technical issues such as the system of aquaponics filtration; water pumps; fertiliser; or organics issues.
Karen; her children; and several grandchildren and other relatives also became quite close friends of me. In several chats, I got that he was a hard worker and smart man. He had modified tools that helped him and his group of farmers’ work such as fruits sorting system along with the conveyor and packing equipment. He made a hydraulic fruit picking tool that was driven by an electric motor of a used washing machine. And he was the firefighter commander and responsible for the reporting of the climatology station of Bilpin for many years.
Nev was a volunteer in several countries and also some humanitarian organizations in Australia in the last 30 years. He involved in the early activities of an NGO in Dili after the 1999 referendum. Nev had assisted the children's education funds and other needs of some families personally. This kind support was continued by other members of Nev's family.
Nev was an agnostic. He once shared the church's social activities in several countries he had visited. Some unacceptable issues were raised but I personally said that was properly handled somewhere I knew. He was quite impressed with my experience with the Catholic mission in education and other social activities. I gave him a black t-shirt with the picture of Inacio Loyola,- the founder of the Jesuit Order, and another one with the Lord’s Prayer in Arabic on it. Through Nic I said that the t-shirt is nothing to do with what he believed in. For me personally, this prayer was powerful. I went through lots of situation with this prayer.
This Lord’s Prayer t-shirt was Nev's favourite especially when the issue of terrorism were everywhere. And it was by his side when he died.
One memory which always stayed strong from when I was a very little kid is when we were picking strawberries in the patch at Bilpin and I was (looking back at it, I was being a right little pain) complaining of a runny nose and Uncle Nevell giving me a strawberry leaf to wipe it. Of course, I wasn’t impressed at the time, but I do recall picking another one or two and the job got done.
Thinking of you Nicky, Alice, Eddy and extended family at this very sad time.
When dad was in his last months, with cancer, he was in Nepean Hospital for a while. I remember Dad asked for Nev and of course he came. He arrived every morning from Bilpin to get dad up and shower and dress him. A wonderful, caring brother!
Nev dropped in on mum regularly, after dad died and she was on her own at Buranda. He kept his eye on her, did jobs that needed to be done, and kept her wood pile well stacked.
I loved having and ANZAZ biccie and cup of tea with him when he dropped into Burando. We talked about life, politics and family. Great old days!
Impossible Dream- Here are the lyrics…
To dream the impossible dream
To fight the unbeatable foe
To bear with unbearable sorrow
And to run where the brave dare not go
To right the unrightable wrong
And to love pure and chaste from afar
To try when your arms are too weary
To reach the unreachable star
This is my quest
To follow that star
No matter how hopeless
No matter how far
To fight for the right
Without question or pause
To be willing to march, march into Hell
For that Heavenly cause
And I know if I'll only be true
To this glorious quest
That my heart will lie peaceful and calm
When I'm laid to my rest
And the world will be better for this
That one man, scorned and covered with scars
Still strove with his last ounce of courage
To reach the unreachable
The unreachable
The unreachable star
And I'll always dream the impossible dream
Yes, and I'll reach the unreachable star
Source: Musixmatch
Songwriters: Mitch Leigh / Joseph Darion
To witness his deep and mutual connection with his companion Trish (Patricia Powell) over these past eight years has been beautiful … when Trish moved away and went into care a couple of months ago, Nev's motivation for living declined… They looked after each other so beautifully - he, helping her with her physical needs, errands etc and she helping him mentally and emotionally to stay on track… it literally broke his heart when she left... they spoke twice a day on the phone right up to the day he died
What a treat it was. Always interested in what was going on in and who was doing what. A family trait I think. How lucky I felt beside uncle Nev. Xxx
Family tree
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