Bringing them Home - Evie story
Evie
My grandmother was
        taken from up Tennant Creek. What gave them the right to just go and take
        them? They brought her down to The Bungalow [at Alice Springs]. Then she
        had Uncle Billy and my Mum to an Aboriginal Protection Officer. She had
        no say in that from what I can gather. And then from there they sent her
        out to Hermannsburg - because you know, she was only 14 when she had Uncle
        Billy, 15 when she had Mum. When she was 15 and a half they took her to
        Hermannsburg and married her up to an Aranda man. That's a no-no.
And then from there,
        when Mum was 3, they ended up taking Mum from Hermannsburg, putting her
        in The Bungalow until she was 11. And then they sent her to Mulgoa mission
        in New South Wales. From there they sent her to Carlingford Girls' Home
        to be a maid. She couldn't get back to the Territory and she'd had a little
        baby.
Agnes [witness's
        sister] and I have met him [their older brother]. We met him when he was
        35. He's now 42 so that's not that far away. Mum had him and she was working
        but she doesn't know what happened to her money. When she kept asking
        for her money so she could pay her fare back to Alice Springs they wouldn't
        give her any.
I've got paperwork
        on her from Archives in New South Wales. There's letters - stacks of 'em
        - between the Aboriginal Protection Board, New South Wales, and Northern
        Territory. All on my mother. They were fighting about which jurisdiction
        she was in - New South Wales yet she was a kid from the Northern Territory.
        So one State was saying we're not paying because she's New South Wales,
        they should pay.
In the end New South
        Wales said to Mum, 'I'll pay your fare back on the condition that because
        you haven't got a husband and you've got a baby, you leave that baby here'.
        So she left her baby behind and came back to the Territory.
And then she had
        me and then my brother and another two brothers and a sister and we were
        all taken away as soon as we were born. Two of them were put in Retta
        Dixon and by the time they were 18 months old they were sent down south
        and adopted. She had two kids, like they were 15 months apart, but as
        soon as they turned 18 months old they were sent down south and adopted
        out.
One of them came
        back in 1992. He just has that many problems. The others we don't know
        where they are. So it's like we've still got a broken family.
I was taken away
        in 1950 when I was 6 hours old from hospital and put into Retta Dixon
        until I was 2 months old and then sent to Garden Point. I lived in Garden
        Point until 1964. And from Garden Point, Tennant Creek, Hermannsburg.
        While in Garden Point I always say that some of it was the happiest time
        of my life; others it was the saddest time of my life. The happiest time
        was, 'Yippee! all these other kids there'. You know, you got to play with
        them every day. The saddest times were the abuse. Not only the physical
        abuse, the sexual abuse by the priests over there. And they were the saddest
        because if you were to tell anyone, well, the priests threatened that
        they would actually come and get you.
Everyone could see
        what they were doing but were told to keep quiet. And just every day you
        used to get hidings with the stock-whip. Doesn't matter what you did wrong,
        you'd get a hiding with the stock-whip. If you didn't want to go to church,
        well you got slapped about the head. We had to go to church three times
        a day. I was actually relieved to leave the Island.
Q: Did any girls
        get pregnant at Garden Point when you were there?
I remember one and
        they actually took her off the Island. And when I ask everyone, like even
        now when I ask people about her, they don't know what happened to her.
        All they remember is her being put on the helicopter and flown out and
        I've never heard her, about her name or anything about her anymore. They
        remember her but don't know what happened to her.
Q: Who was the
        Father?
The Priest. The same
        bastards who ...
Q: How do people
        know that?
Well, the reason
        they know is, Sister A, poor thing, who's dead - I know she was upset
        because that priest had that young girl living in his place. He used to
        come and get her out of the dormitory every night. He used to sneak in
        about half past twelve, one o'clock in the morning and take her. We'd
        get up in the morning and she'd be just coming in the door.
All the girls slept
        in one dormitory. All the boys slept in the other. And we couldn't lock
        the dormitory from the inside - it had a chain through and padlock outside,
        so there was only the nuns or priest could get in there. I know he used
        to come and get her because I was three beds up from her.
There was another
        priest, but he's dead. The rest of the mob that were on the Island are
        all dead. He's the only one that's kicking and he should have been the
        one that's bloody dead for what he did. He not only did it to girls, he
        did it to boys as well. There was six of 'em involved. Nuns were assaulting
        the young fellas as well as the priest assaulting the young fellas and
        the girls.
There was four priests
        and two nuns involved. We were in their care. That fella's still walking
        around. He's now got charge of other kids. He's got charge of other kids
        in D.
In 1977 I had three
        children. In 1977 my oldest was three years old then. I had another one
        that was twelve months and another one that was two months old. All those
        kids were taken off me. The reason behind that was, well, I'd asked my
        girl-friend and so-called sister-in-law if she could look after my kids.
        She wouldn't look after my daughter because my daughter's black. So, she
        said she'd take the two boys and that was fine. And while I was in hospital
        for three months - that's the only reason I asked them to take 'em 'cause
        I was going to hospital because I had septicaemia.
I couldn't get my
        kids back when I came out of hospital. And I fought the welfare system
        for ten years and still couldn't get 'em. I gave up after ten years. Once
        I gave up I found out that while I was in hospital, my sister-in-law wanted
        to go overseas with my two boys 'cause her husband was being posted there
        for 12 months from foreign affairs. And I know she brought some papers
        in for me to sign while I was in hospital and she said they were just
        papers for their passports. Stupid me, being sick and what-have-you didn't
        ask questions - I signed 'em and found out too late they were adoption
        papers. I had 30 days to revoke any orders that I'd signed.
And with my daughter,
        well she came back in '88 but things just aren't working out there. She
        blames me for everything that went wrong. She's got this hate about her
        - doesn't want to know. The two boys know where I am but turned around
        and said to us, 'You're not our mother - we know who our real mother is'.
So every day of your
        bloody life you just get hurt all the time ...
Confidential evidence
        557, Northern Territory. Evie's story appears on page 147 of Bringing
        them home.  
Last updated 2 December 2001.