Some reflections

On the cover of Bill’s book is the photo of Will and Mabel Morton’s Family

L to Right Gordon, Mabel (their Mother), Topsy (on knee) Bill, Mervyn, Daphne and Will (their father).

(This photo was taken before Bernice was born)

When Bill wrote his book, Mervyn. Gordon and Daphne were all deceased.

This later photograph of 3 of the girls with their father Thomas (Will) Morton are, from

L to Rt.  I think they are Daphne and Topsy with Bernice on her father’s knee.

Some reflections about Topsy Morton

Our grandfather Walter saw these children quite often.  They were his nieces and nephews through Lucy his late wife.

He had often remarked about one girl that she was a “real little Topsy”.  This nickname stuck and she was always known in the family as Topsy.  I think her real name was Elwyn.

In 1994 our son Tom Anthoney was working in Port Augusta as a physiotherapist. I was about to travel to Port Augusta to visit Tom.

My mother Mary (who by now we always referred to as Granny) said to me that her cousin Topsy Morton had been working for her church in Port Augusta at a camp site at Davenport. This is the aboriginal area in Port Augusta. She felt that Topsy might still be there.

I drove out to this area and made some enquiries.  Yes she was still there and well known.

She was in the kitchen area of a complex of buildings..

I was very pleased to meet her and she was very kind and gracious to me.  She wanted to show me what the site used to be like. She explained it was a site for the aboriginal children who were in government care. She showed me the dormitory which had been the “girl’s room”.  I gulped.

There were empty rows of bunk beds.

She was saddened that they had all gone.

She had loved caring for these children.

 There were two aboriginal women in the kitchen and Topsy explained to me that they had been children there and they hadn’t wanted to leave.  This was their home.

I was shocked.  We had met many Pitjatjantjara people and visited their homelands in the 70s and 80s. These children were what most of us would refer to as the “stolen generation”.

Topsy was clearly not racist, She hadn’t stolen the children. She had cared for them and loved them. They had left this site many years ago. Where now? Why?

I was unable to ask questions of her. I was speechless.

 I don’t know where they had finished up. Maybe they had stopped coming to this place.

Topsy was a mature woman in her 70s I guessed. It was such a shock. 

I liked being with her. I was glad I’d found her.

I was told that the premises were now being used for a Christian camp site. I asked nothing about that.

Topsy then wanted to show me the new facilities for the old folk,  the elderly aboriginal community.  She was proud of this and happy about it.  It looked good.  I was still pretty speechless.  I said my goodbyes and thanked her for showing me around.

How easy it is to make judgements without seeing or understanding .

The ramifications of the cruel decision to remove children from their homelands was exposed to me.

A beautiful woman who was a relative of mine was involved with these children. Did I feel shame or was it respect. Neither. Just shock!!

Twenty five years later I had met and talked with Glenda Savage.  Glenda is  a Morton descendant.  She is Gordon’s daughter and Topsy is her aunt.

She told ne how Topsy had died and she was invited to the funeral.  It was at Devonport.

It moved Glenda profoundly. 

The aboriginal people were incessantly wailing as they do for their own families.

 Topsy Morton was given this accolade and respect.

It is humbling and for me, quite an emotional piece of knowledge.

Vale Topsy