Gregory Joseph Phillips

Hawks often got his heart racing during close matches.

Transport was limited in those days, and Greg didn’t have fond memories of being driven to the Willaura railway station with a note pinned on his 5-year-old chest to get off at Ballarat station on to attend boarding school at Villa Maria with his older brothers. Memories of those days for Greg were filled with tough nuns, cold rooms, lumpy custard and some mischief, such as sneaking down to the forbidden train tracks to flatten pennies by the trains. Greg enjoyed more his boarding school in his teenage years, where he attended the Marist Brothers’ Agricultural College, also known at the time as the Mater Christ College, in Mount Gambier, as farming was in his blood and was where he knew his career would be. So after he completed the equivalent of year 10, Greg left school to return to

join his father and brothers in working in partnership with the expanded family farm business. He loved playing football for the Wickliffe football club and frequented the local dances in search for a wife. By the age of 24, Greg had not found his love and was getting restless with his life, until one night he borrowed his sister Muff’s mini-miner, which was an effort for Greg being 6’ 4 to climb into, and headed to that Ararat dance where he met a shy 16-year-old Rhonda Marx. At first, Rhonda didn’t know what to think of this tall, rather loud older man who was pursuing her, but Greg was persistent and two years later, in August 1968, Greg married his love and lifelong partner to be, Rhonda.

Greg built a large modern house on the farm near Mafeking and brought his young bride there to make it their home. At this time, there wasn’t much spare money so their lounge room was furnished with sun chairs until Greg and Rhonda spent many nights together shooting rabbits for skins in order to buy their first lounge suite. This was the start of the strong teamwork between Greg and Rhonda that they shared throughout their life together.

Even though Rhonda was busy with five children and keeping the house, she was never far from Greg’s side, whether it was helping with farm work, doing the book work or being an equal partner in the decision-making for the farm business. The only place Greg and Rhonda didn’t really work well together was the sheep yards, Rhonda’s high-energy approach to moving sheep clashed with Greg’s more calm thinking approach and they soon agreed that getting the sheep into the shed was always to be done solo. Greg and Rhonda’s marriage of almost 55 years was founded on teamwork, mutual respect, equality and love and has been the model marriage for their own children to seek and follow.

Greg loved his five children and 16 grandchildren and was so proud of all of their achievements. Leanne was born in September 1969, myself Janette in April 1972 and Michelle two years later in March 1974. Greg patiently waited until August 1977 to have his first and only son, Russell and was soon followed by his baby daughter Claire in 1980. Dad was pretty laid back as far as teaching us kids the way of life growing up on the farm as his philosophy was that we would learn through exploring and attempts rather than instructions or dadsplaining. He came a little unstuck when he asked a seven-year-old Leanne to drive the ute home to the house. Leanne had never driven before, so Dad put it in gear and showed her the accelerator and sent her on her way. It was only when Leanne got to the closed front gate, that she realised Dad hadn’t told her how to stop the ute – needless to say, we needed some repairs to that

front gate.

Dad loved his farm and worked hard to make it the best he could. In the earlier years, he managed crops, cattle and sheep. Due to where the farm is located at the Grampians foothills, he had his fair share of bushfires go through the farm that required many fences to be rebuilt and injured livestock to be put down, a necessary job that Dad just got on with. Over time, the growing number of cockatoos eating the new crops tested his patience and some crazy cows on the loose during winter, which tested all of our physical abilities, led to Dad focusing his farming solely on sheep and his other passion, cutting red gum wood. Dad was keen to share his farming knowledge and experience with his son Russell, daughter-in-law Leeanne and grandchildren, especially Josh, Carl and expert sheep handler Sharlee.

Dad was happiest when he was cutting up fallen limbs or trees and reducing the big logs to small blocks to warm our family. He also sold trailer loads of wood to locals and many semi-loads to warm the homes in Ballarat and Melbourne and all five children and Rhonda were very well trained at stacking wood onto trucks.

Greg wasn’t the type of farmer who wanted the newest machinery or tools. Instead, he saw value in being able to maintain and fix the old Fergie tractor, the hay baler and second-hand trucks to keep them always operating. He lived by the motto of “be happy with what you have got’ and obtained no joy from material possessions or throwing out a perfectly good working item in order to

upgrade. So much so that if it wasn’t for Mum, who was the opportunist and caught Dad at proud father moments after a successful school sports and Little athletics competitions, we would probably still be watching a black and white TV and using a Vic20 computer. Dad’s first real splurge on farming equipment came in his late 60s when he purchased a JCB Tele-handler. Dad loved his JCB and from then on, everything on the farm, whether big or small, had to be lifted by the JCB. He was definitely a big boy with a big toy. In recent years, as we parked our trailers to be loaded with wood, we would hold our breath as dad dropped wood from the JCB bucket, watching it bounce out again towards the back windscreens of the car. A miniature JCB is placed on Dad’s pall. As is a photo of Dad in his JCB and mum working as a team to clean up a fallen tree.

Dad liked to socialise; whether it was Friday nights at the Willaura pub, a local clearing sale or weekly Sunday church, he was always in for a chat, a story and a laugh with neighbours and friends. As kids, we spent a long time waiting for Dad, particularly outside of church each Sunday, where he loved to catch up with friends regardless of the weather. This was in the era where kids were seen but not heard, so we were only brave enough to send the youngest siblings, either Russell or Claire to try and hurry him up, but they were rarely

successful. As both mum and dad are from large families, we also have many fond memories of large family gatherings, whether, at our house or our cousin’s houses, that dad always enjoyed immensely. In his late forties, Dad developed Meniere’s disease, which resulted in him losing most of his hearing over time. He struggled on, trying to keep up with conversations through lip reading, but as his hearing continued to decline, he withdrew more from social occasions. Whilst this was a difficult time for Dad, he never complained but rather accepted and adapted as best he could. Around this time, is when his interest in share trading in the stock market took

off. He would spend hours reading papers and researching companies and stocks. He was inspired by how he kept up with technology, and we remember fondly his large hands holding a computer mouse in the air, clicking way trying to make it work, yet he mastered the skills and when possible, he did all of his trading online. Late last year, he set a goal to stick around to see this February’s share reporting season, which even though his mobility was rapidly declining, he would repeatedly shuffle up and down the house passage to the computer to watch the market and complete trades. Dad was always keen to discuss his big stock market wins, a bit quieter about the losses and chuffed when his grandchildren Amiee, Adrian and more recently, Patrick would ask him for share advice. His last trade being 5th of April a purchase of Whitehaven Coal if anyone is after a tip. A Financial Review newspaper is also placed on his pall to symbolise his enjoyment from the share market and also his love of reading the newspapers, including the Weekly Times and Stock and Land. Family holidays away were rare and shorter than planned, preferring a relaxing afternoon at Lake Fyans on a hot summers day. However, Dad did get his first passport at the age of 75 to take a cruise to New Zealand which he enjoyed.

However, home and the farm was always where Dad’s heart was, where he was happy and content. He was so ever grateful for Rhonda who cared and looked after him so wonderfully over the last year with this declining health so that he could remain at home on the farm, even though she was a bit of a rough nurse. Dad would let out a bit of yelp when she accidentally nudged his sore leg or tugged a shoulder too hard whilst helping him dress; Mum would taunt him and ask Dad, “Would you like to get a new nurse’ and he would always look up at her with his cheeky smile and say ‘ No I am very grateful for the nurse I have, she will do fine thanks.”

Greg lived a simple life, one full of contentment and happiness. He taught us that if you have your home, work that you love, your health, to love and be loved by your family, some storytelling with friends and some laughter, then that was all you needed in life. He passed away peacefully as a happy and grateful man for this.