"Rejoice in the Lord, always. Be strong and fear not" - BENEDICTION

Category: Old Boy Submissions

St John’s Old Boy Reunited with his Trophy after 64 Years

Posted on June 27th, by Phil Merrigan in Old Boy Submissions. No Comments

Way back in 1950 Mark was a winner of the trophy. But, as a boy in St John’s Orphanage, if you won a trophy then it stayed in St. Johns. When the orphanage closed in the 1970’s it was feared all memorabilia was lost. And, sadly in
most cases it has been. Just recently prior to a reunion in Young and with the good grace of the Sisters we were able to obtain some of these trophies that have been “held in trust” in Canberra.

Mark was a very accomplished boxer winning many fights in the region while at St John’s and started to develop a reputation as a very keen hard hitting boxer. On leaving St John’s he ended up in Sydney where he started training again. This move of fighting in the “big smoke” eventually got him selection on the Melbourne Olympic Boxing Team as a reserve.

Mark is overjoyed and quietly … Read More »

An “Old Boy’s” Memories

Posted on November 13th, by Phil Merrigan in Old Boy Submissions. No Comments


I was eight years old when I went to the Orphanage. It was in September 1938 when my mother was forced to send me and my two brothers Don and Colin there. We were too much for  her, the final straw was breaking windows in the Parish Hall using catapults. We stayed at the Orphanage until war ceased in 1945.

Mother Superior at St Johns was Sister Ligouri. A very nice lady. Other teachers were Sister Genevieve who taught the infants, she also taught drama and music to all the pupils.  Sister Madeleine taught me for two years. I had to repeat sixth grade as I was too young to go to High School. I remember doing Algebra during the second year which gave me a good start … Read More »

“A Poem of Reflections” – I’m Only an Orphan Lad

Posted on August 30th, by Phil Merrigan in Old Boy Submissions. No Comments

I’m Only an Orphan Lad

I often look back on my childhood
My parents put me away in an orphanage
To me it felt like a cage
They left me feeling angry, sad and alone
I often tried to escape and go home
Bewildered, bitter and cold to the bone
And wondered, if I was good or bad
For I had become an orphan lad

There were times when I would shout and yell
It could be no worse in “hell”
Rudely awakened at every dawn
Still feeling forgotten and forlorn
Told to get dressed and fall into line
To do as I was told and I’d be fine

I would be given many a task to do
Wash that floor, clean that loo
I’d march to the sound of a bell
Then stand back in line, half asleep
Still feeling cold, I’d quietly weep
With a “clip of the ear”, told … Read More »