
# Practical Magic

## Barbara Donovan
**Practical Magic**

© 2015 by Brian Donovan

All rights reserved

Artwork copyright belongs to Christopher Guilfoil

Ebook formatting by MrLasers.com
"A heart is not judged by how much you love; but by how much you are loved by others"

— _The Wizard of Oz_

### Contents

**CHAPTER ONE** The Early Years

**CHAPTER TWO** A Coming of Age

**CHAPTER THREE** Adventures in Germany

**CHAPTER FOUR** The Busy Years

**CHAPTER FIVE** Sarah and New Challenges

**CHAPTER SIX** The Times are Changing

**CHAPTER SEVEN** Finding Friendship Forever

**CHAPTER EIGHT** New Love

**CHAPTER NINE** Changing Lives Down Under

**CHAPTER TEN** A New Life: Friends, Family and Footy

**CONTRIBUTIONS**

Brian Donovan, Jim Guilfoil, John Philipps, Cassie Dahm, Tom Philipps, Kevin and Julie Donovan, Christopher Guilfoil, Tim Guilfoil, Pam Guilfoil, Greg Guilfoil, Danny 'Bobo' Guilfoil, Sarah Guilfoil, Jean Marie Guilfoil, Joyce Guilfoil, Meg Guilfoil, Allison, Olivia, Anna and Emma Guilfoil, Rebecca Jahn, Marty Jahn, Cheyenne Jahn, James 'Jimmy' Jahn, Samuel Guilfoil, Greta Grace King, Joy O'Grosky, Joe Neumaier, Ada Foster, Julie Brylow, Max Stephens.

**FINAL THOUGHTS**

## CHAPTER ONE

### The Early Years

I am told that I screamed into the world as blue as the sky, my umbilical cord wrapped around my neck. My 20-year-old Daddy stood back, white in the face, as my grandma helped my mom bring me into the world in the upstairs bedroom at my grandmother's house on Quincy Street. My great grandmother had been a midwife, so my grandma knew more about childbirth than the average person on the street. Mom was just 19, I was tangled and the doctor was running late. I know how easily my birth could have gone awry, but when the doctor finally arrived I was settled safe and warm on Momma's chest.

I was born on February 23rd, 1935, in Kansas City, Missouri. My big sister Alice had arrived the year before. She was my very best friend; we were like two peas in a pod. We did everything together. Our parents were Alice Edith Philipps (whose maiden name had been Harrison) and Martin John Philipps. Momma was very pretty with dark hair and eyes and Daddy was tall and handsome with wavy black hair. They were good, working class people and they were mad about each other.

The year before Alice was born, they had eloped and married young, despite their parents scorn. Mom had been raised a Protestant and Daddy was a Catholic. In those days religious differences could mean the end of a relationship but thankfully Mom and Dad fought the battle and won their war to be together. Mom converted to Catholicism when I was about five or six-years-old and both their sets of parents came to accept their love and realize that it didn't really matter what background you were from, if you were a good person, you were a good person. I learnt this from my parents from a very early age.

I was born at the end of the Great Depression and Mom and Dad used to collect ration stamps for food, pinching pennies where they could. Suburban Middle America had been a hard place to live, but with the Depression ending, things were looking up. It was a place of change and the Philipps family was darned if they were going to be left behind. With their heads down, Mom and Dad made sure we clambered out of the 1930s and prospered in the 1940s.

My Daddy sold magazines and later landed a job as a red cap for the Union Pacific Railroad. This would be the making of him. He worked hard and over the years he managed to climb the ranks from red cap to passenger agent and then to become the assistant manager.

When Alice and I were still young, Daddy set us up in our first home. As the decade worn on, our dresses got prettier and things got easier. Mom was a beautiful, strong woman who also inherited a hardworking spirit, perhaps from the fact that she descended from two American presidents: the 9th President William Henry Harrison (1841) and the 23rd President Benjamin Harrison (1889-1893).

I remember when Alice and I were little girls, Mom would work long hours at a nearby beauty shop. Our family was full of drive and ambition but there was always time for fun. Daddy was a film buff and he knew all about Hollywood actors and the latest movie releases. I don't know what it was about the lifestyle that engaged his interest: perhaps it was the glamour, the glitz, the dream-like life that he escaped to in his imagination. We had movie posters up all around the house and Alice and I would often dress up and act out movies and skits, dance tap, sing and pretend we were stars.

Daddy loved music and played the piano and took us to the movies nearly every Friday night. He would make popcorn at home while us girls were getting ready and we'd take it along in a sack. I remember it so clearly: the music, the bench seats, all the kids scattered on the floor up front straining to see the screen so close. They used to give away carnival glass as you gave your entry ticket so each week we would retreat with a new bowl, a glass, or a vase. This iridescent glassware was cheap so people at the time didn't think of it as having much value. Movie theatres and supermarket chains bought it in bulk and gave it away as prizes. So, each Friday night we'd go home, reeling from our cinematic experience, carrying a shimmering vase, pitcher, goblet or candy bowl. Nowadays this stuff is worth a lot of money but back then it was free with your entry fee, which was a nickel – five cents.

When I was about four-and-a-half, something very special happened to me which would send my life on a particularly magical course, influencing me in ways I can only make sense of now as I reflect on the life I've lived. It was 1939, and Dad's friend Mr McManus, who was the manager of the theatre, told him that Kansas City would be hosting the premiere of the latest Hollywood film, _The Wizard of Oz_ , and that the stars of the film were coming to town. Because Daddy worked for the railway he was able to make arrangements for Alice and I to meet the stars as they arrived. This was a really big deal. We were going to meet real-life movie stars! Momma dressed us in our very best dresses and curled our hair, tying it tightly with satin ribbons.

We were waiting at the station when a long carriage pulled up in front. Daddy was grinning as he carried his wooden stool to the ledge, connecting the carriage to the platform. The doors swung open and he held out his hand to the disembarking passengers. Out stepped Judy Garland. I remember her long, curly hair and warm smile as she bent down to shake my tiny hand. After Judy, out stepped Ray Bolger, Bert Lahr, Frank Morgan and Jack Haley and hellos and welcomes were exchanged on the platform. It was surreal. Then, all of a sudden, the actors linked arms with me and Alice and we all started skipping up and down the platform, in an impromptu rendition of _"We're off to see the wizard, the wonderful Wizard of Oz"._ It was amazing. I can still remember it now, after having been retold the story by my mother time and time again throughout my childhood. All of us went to the drugstore in the Union Station and had a chocolate soda. Judy reached down and lifted me up on her knee. I can remember her bouncing me gently up and down as the group chatted away, sipping on their drinks. Sadly, Daddy wasn't allowed to bring his camera but I have the memories and also what my mother told me about the time.

The movie premiere was shown that night and the stars' visit was reported in the Kansas City Star. We got to sit front-row at the Lowes Midland Theatre, in Kansas City, Missouri. This wasn't like the theatre we were used to going to on Fridays. It had big, soft seats and rich red velvet curtains concealing a huge screen. There was an orchestra down below that played music as the excited crowd waited in anticipation. Then, out came the stars, dressed in their costumes, performing a skit in front of the curtain. They welcomed us all, joked around, sang and roused the crowd, opening the premiere with delight and wonder. And then, with a flash, they were gone. The curtain rose, the lights were dimmed, and for me, a life-long love of _The Wizard of Oz_ began.

The following year, in 1940, I got scarlet fever. I was five-years-old and I couldn't get out of bed. I couldn't go to school for a whole year. I just drew pictures and looked at my books and stared out the window at life passing me by. The hardest part was not being able to play with Alice. When I got better, the house was quarantined and all my pictures and papers had to be destroyed. I remember after six-months of isolation finally being able to go outside. Everything was new and fresh and different.

From 1941 to 1945, I went to St Michael's Grade School. In the evenings we played in our small backyard, putting up tents, play-acting movies, dressing up, tap dancing and kicking cans in the streetlight. We resumed our Friday night movie vigil and continued adoring Hollywood from our humble living room. Daddy's new job as a red cap meant we got free train rides and we got to go on many trips to New Orleans, Washington DC and even Sun Valley, Idaho. Daddy played piano and his love of music took us several times to New Orleans, the world center for jazz. I remember the black porters on the train singing to us as we traveled the line in search of wholesome adventure. When we arrived to New Orleans we would see a lot of music. We got to stay in hotels and eat grits for breakfast. One time we went to Washington DC to see the White House and hoped to see President Truman. He was from Missouri, so we thought they'd let us in because we were from his home state. But when we told the guard our grand plan, he said, "Folks, everyone here is from Missouri", and pointed to the back of the line.

Throughout my childhood, we lived in a number of places around Kansas City. In the late 40s we lived in Denver Avenue, next to Mommy and Poppy Sharp. They used to take care of me when Mom and Dad were working. Their son, Earl Wheeler, was like a big brother to me. When I was with them, Alice would go and stay with our grandparents on Daddy's side, Blanche and Joe Philipps. Our family belonged to St Michael's Catholic Parish and even though Mommy and Poppy Sharp weren't Catholic, they were really good people. I realized that, despite what the church taught us, it was possible to be a good person even if you weren't Catholic. For years I used to go back and visit the Sharps.

Across the street from us in Denver Avenue, lived a woman named Edna Prewitt. Her nephew was Hollywood star Mickey Rooney and he used to come stay with his aunt there. Apparently he used to push me around in a stroller and call me his "little doll". Mickey and his Mom had lived with Edna earlier when Mickey's father had been travelling for vaudeville, and he was reported in the Kansas City Star saying he thought of the place as a second home.

Later, we moved to 2425 Poplar Avenue, Kansas City. Then we moved to Central Street and W 36th Street. Then later we moved to 4123 Genessee Street. For a long time it was Mom, Dad, Alice and myself but later our family welcomed Johnny, Cassie and Tom. In the meantime, our house was always full. Mom seemed to have a soft spot for folks who were going through hard times and Daddy used to say he should put in a revolving door, because she was always inviting people in when they had no place to go: drunken priests, nuns who had left the convent, and unwed mothers all stayed with us. This compassion and empathy rubbed off on me I guess.

I also remember Mom and Dad arguing about voting. They were both supposedly Democrats but my Dad used to vacillate a little bit. He was interested in John Dewey and some of the "other side", the Republican side. Mom was a diehard Democrat. Daddy was going to vote for Dewey one year and Mom said, "If you vote for him you'll leave this house."

In 1943, when I was in Grade 3, my little brother John was born. We were all thrilled. Daddy was over the moon to have a little boy, his first son. He was named Martin John Philipps Jr. This was a big deal for Daddy. Alice would play mother to John and I joined in. He was a beautiful boy and a good baby.

During my grade school years, I can remember talk of the war but to be honest it didn't really affect us all that much. There were short-films before the movies and rationing for butter and sugar. We needed stamps for our allocation. Occasionally we had to practice air-raids at school and we would all get under our desks and the teacher would say the communists were going to take over. But, in all truthfulness, we had more trouble with tornadoes than the war.

I can remember going in the car to visit someone in Kansas and there was a tornado coming towards us. Daddy pulled over and we all got out and hid in the ditch. Some other people were out in the open looking at the tornado tear through the fields but Daddy would never let us look. He made us hide down really low and wait 'til it had passed.

Whenever we had a tornado warning at home we would go down to the basement and put a mattress over our heads. We did that for years. We would always hide in the southwest corner because they said that is the safest place to be. It's the weirdest feeling, right before a tornado comes. It goes really still, it's quite spooky. And then all of a sudden, boom! It's loud and noisy and hectic and you wonder if it will ever cease. Then, suddenly, it passes. And when it's all over, it goes back to silence.

Barbara at one-year-old

Barbara, aged four-and-a-half years (about the time she met Judy Garland and the cast from _The Wizard of Oz_ )

(Clockwise from top right) The family home at number 22 Quincy Street, Kansas City, where Barbara was born; Mommy and Poppy Sharp with son Earl Wheeler outside their Denver Street house; (from left) Alice, Mom, Daddy and Barbara; Barbara's birth announcement in her baby book, with original signatures including the doctor's.

## CHAPTER TWO

### A Coming of Age

It was the late 1940s and I was blossoming. My family had moved up in the world. Daddy had got another promotion at the Union Pacific Railroad and Mom had left the beauty shop and was now working at the local drugstore. In 1946, we were blessed with a little sister, Catherine Cecilia Philipps. Cassie was a brown-eyed beauty. Alice and I played mother to her, dressing her up in new baby girl clothes. Alice again took the lead as mother and I did what I was told.

From 1946 to 1949 I completed my freshman years at Redemptorist High School. I loved dressing up and going to dances with boys. I remember slumber parties with my girlfriends and fantasizing about falling in love. I was an average student and I tried hard for good grades. I liked English, art and history but not mathematics. I was a good Catholic girl but I was also active in the school social scene. We would have school dances at the gymnasium. The jukebox would play the latest pop songs and the boys would be on one side of the gym and girls would be on the other. Only the brazen and the beautiful would have courage enough to peel themselves off the wall and ask someone to dance.

When I was about 13 or 14, one boy in particular became a favorite Friday night dance partner of mine. His name was John Gormly and he took a shining to me. We had this song and every time it would play, he would sway me gently in a sea of sparkling lights and sweaty teens. " _It only happens when I dance with you, that trip to heaven till the dance is through._ " It was a famous song of the time by Irving Berlin. My stomach would flutter with butterflies when I'd see him walk my way, his arm outstretched. That same fella, John Gormly, tracked me down on Facebook when I was in my mid-70s. He said, "Are you who I think you are? I have been looking for you for 60 years." He was joking of course; he's happily married and has got five kids, but says he was in love with me for years. He told me that a few years after we had danced together he'd paid a visit to my parents' house to find me. They told him I'd since got married and it'd broken his heart. But I knew it never would have worked – he's a Republican, a real conservative.

I had my first _real_ date with a boy named Tom Donaldson. He was a big-shot footballer and he had invited me – a junior – to the big end-of-year football banquet. I was beside myself. Mom got me a new dress for the occasion. It had a black checked taffeta skirt and a black velvet top. I remember being so darn nervous I felt sick. We ate spaghetti and I spilled some down my front. I was so embarrassed. I've had trouble with spilling things ever since.

We moved house again to a new one on 63rd Street. I transferred from Redemptorist High School to Hogan High School for my sophomore year and stayed there until I graduated. I didn't mind the move but I remember Alice was devastated leaving her friends behind. For me, Hogan High School marked the beginning of something new. I was never really much into sports but nevertheless I became a cheerleader. In fact, I was even the 'O' in H.O.G.A.N. I remember us cheer-squad girls all wore white culottes, maroon sweaters and white beanies.

The years wore on and I quickly became a young woman. High school was coming to a close and I would be making some big decisions about what I would do with my future. I was drawn to humanitarian subjects, helping people, communication and education and like most of my girlfriends, I also dreamt of finding my future husband and having a family of my own.

Then, I met a striking young man, who would come to mean the world to me. Jim Guilfoil was a typical American boy with wide shoulders, red hair and freckles. The year was 1952 and I was 17. I was tall and blonde with a pear-shaped body and despite feeling quite pretty at times, I was also self-conscious. Jim was two years older than me and a friend of his had set us up on a blind date. Jim had gone to Rockhurst High School in Kansas City and following his graduation he'd spent time in a seminary so he was as new to dating as I was. Thankfully, we hit it off. He was very easy to talk to, polite, mild-mannered and charming. It was Jim's warmth and intelligence that drew me in.

It wasn't the type of head-over-heels love that young girls sometimes dream about, but more of a slow burning secure connection. The night of that first date I had no idea that Jim would be father to my nine children and the one I would share a large portion of my life with. He took me to a dance at Rockhurst College. They played 50s music such as Rosemary Clooney's, _"Half as Much",_ and Eddie Fisher's _"Oh My Papa"._ I wore a pleated skirt and clean face, no makeup except a dab of lipstick and a touch of lily of the valley scent. Our first kiss was more of a friendship kiss than a passionate one, but that certain sparkle stayed with me.

When high school finished at the end of 1952, I began the New Year studying at Donnelly College, Kansas City, Kansas. I chose a two-year liberal arts degree, majoring in biology and English. I was also the chair of a campaign to elect Dwight Eisenhower. I had shifted my preference from the Democrats. Daddy was going for Ike and Mommy for Stevenson. I had studied a lot about Eisenhower and I was impressed by his commitment to serving the country and thought he would make a better President than Stevenson.

I was a passionate people-person and had no trouble making new friendships. Jim and I had been forced to go our separate ways. He had joined the marines for officer training but through his experiences he had become critical of the military system. To get a discharge, he had to accept being drafted to the army. He became a conscientious objector and the army assigned him to finish his draft time working at a bookstore at Fort Benning, Georgia, for about a year-and-a-half from 1954 to 1955.

At the start of 1953, Daddy got another promotion from the United Pacific Railroad and he was required to move to Omaha, Nebraska. Mom was very upset and reluctant to leave home but Daddy convinced her it would be a new adventure and eventually she got onboard. My siblings and I went with Mom and Dad and we rented a house in Omaha. I left Donnelly College and began studying teaching at St Mary's College in Omaha. Alice took up nursing studies. But soon after we settled into life in our new home, Mom learned she was pregnant. They called Tommy a "change of life" baby. He came completely out of the blue and Mom was devastated. Her life had taken a series of uncertain turns and she wasn't coping. She suffered a nervous breakdown and moved back, taking Johnny and Cassie, to stay with her mother in the house I was born in on Quincy Street. She had confidence in Dr Leo Cooper and wanted to have the birth with him. Daddy soon followed, giving up his promotion, getting his old job back as traffic manager for the Union Pacific in Kansas City and finding the family a new home on Flora Street. Not wanting to uproot our studies again, Alice and I got our own apartment and stayed in Omaha until we finished our courses in 1954. We were thrilled when another little boy, Thomas Gregory Philipps, was born in August, 1953. Alice and I made a short visit to Kansas City for his baptism.

All the while, Alice and I were busy with our studies. We were responsible Catholic girls and did not drink or party like some university students did. Alice had taken up smoking but in those days no one knew how bad smoking was – everybody did it, except me. We had our heads in our books and didn't have time for mischief. My Great Aunt Josie was paying for my tuition and I was grateful for the opportunity. She had been a teacher and wanted me to be a teacher too.

Alice was dating a man named Rex Fischer, whom she had met while she was doing a nursing internship at the hospital he was working at as an intern doctor. They were quite serious about each other.

While I was at St Mary's College I was awarded Teacher of The Year in teacher training. I had been teaching kindergarten in the morning and doing teacher training classes in the afternoon. I was also crowned the Queen of Hearts at the annual social ball. It was the greatest social event of the year. My date was Jerry Ward and I wore a new dress and a large cape and crown; I felt every bit the part.

I'd gone on a few dates but I hadn't met anyone that had taken my fancy like Jim had. Despite our distance we had stayed in touch, writing letters and occasionally talking on the telephone. I even visited him while he was posted at Fort Benning. It was here that we decided that once he was released we would get married.

At the end of 1954, I had finished my studies and moved back to my parents' house on State Line. I taught English for a few months at Ward High School and was planning my wedding. I was excited. True to his word, Jim came for me when he was given the all clear and we were married on October the 8th, 1955, at Visitation Catholic Church, Kansas City.

It was a typical church wedding. We chose simple wedding bands and I wore an elaborate ivory silk and taffeta gown trimmed with Alencon lace. The fitted bodice had long, tapered sleeves and was buttoned down the back. It had a low, round neckline and a cuff drape of taffeta and lace. The hooped skirt flowed into a long train, the edge of which was adorned with lace and sequins. My long veil flowed from a seed pearl tiara and I carried a small bouquet of white pom pom carnations and stephanotis. Alice was my maid of honor of course and my bridesmaids, Sue and Mary Alice, wore aqua blue ballerina-length organza and taffeta dresses. My sister Cassie was a junior bridesmaid and my brother Johnny was an usher. My greatest memory of the day is standing at the back of the church waiting to walk down the aisle. My Daddy took hold of me and as we started to walk I noticed a tear in his eye. I said, "Don't cry Daddy" as he began guiding me slowly past the gladioli and chrysanthemums toward Jim, handsomely waiting with his heart wide open.

A photograph taken for Barbara's engagement in 1955.

"Don't cry, Daddy," said Barbara as she and her father walked down the aisle at Visitation Church, Kansas City, on her wedding day, on October 8, 1955.

Barbara and Jim leaving after the marriage ceremony.

The grown-up Philipps children circa 1985 (from youngest to eldest) Tommy, Cassie, Johnny, Barbara and Alice.

## CHAPTER THREE

### Adventures in Germany

A few short weeks after the wedding dust had settled, Jim and I boarded a ship to Munich, Germany. It was to be my greatest adventure yet. Jim was on the G.I. bill and got a 12-month scholarship to complete his PhD in philosophy in this foreign land. And I, as his new wife, was by his side. Prior to the wedding we hadn't spent much time together and now, as newlyweds, we were thrust into close quarters. This boat ride into the unknown was both exciting and terrifying for me. My relationship with Jim had always been a relaxed one; we had seen movies and plays and occasionally talked on the phone. Now we were together 24/7. The eight-day Holland-American line was a smooth enough trip, but I remember being particularly nauseous the first few days. Though, there was dancing and dinners and parties to keep us entertained.

When we arrived to Germany we settled into our new home in a boarding house or 'pensione' in Munich managed by a woman named Frau Lintner. She would come to be a close companion for me. I soon developed an upset stomach and it was Frau Lintner who encouraged me to go to the Frauen Clinic. I was pregnant. It was unexpected. The first three months of the pregnancy were the worst, I had morning sickness and Frau Lintner suggested I eat two soda crackers immediately upon waking to stop nausea in its tracks. I'd never heard of such a thing, but her advice worked. She helped me a lot throughout my pregnancy, convincing me that when the time came, my body would know what to do.

My German midwife, or 'hebamme', also taught me many things that influenced my American view of childbirth. The hebamme did not speak English well and the clinic was not equipped with stirrups and other things I believed were essential in childbirth. The little clinic only knew the ways of natural childbirth, unobstructed, without drugs and in the most natural way possible. This terrified me. What if something went wrong? I wanted to go home but there was nothing I could do. We would be in Germany until Jim finished his studies and I would be having this baby here whether I liked it or not.

After the end of my first trimester, the morning sickness had eased and Jim and I were able to take advantage of student bus trips throughout Europe. We visited beautiful Paris where we walked the streets arm in arm, romantic Rome where we tossed a coin into the famed Trevi Fountain, to the Blue Grotto in Venice and even visited Austria. We stayed at pensiones along the way and ate local cuisine, observing the differences all around us.

I was amazed at the cleanliness in Germany. Street curbs were washed every day and despite people not necessarily having all the mod cons, everything they did have, they kept in immaculate condition. People were very friendly but I found it difficult to communicate because I only knew a handful of German phrases. I would visit the English class at the university just to hear my language spoken.

Our first son, Christopher James Guilfoil, was born in Munich on August 16, 1956. The delivery room was a world away from what I had seen in America. There was simply a table and a hand to hold. I was terrified, thinking these people were living in the dark ages. They were not interested in administering pain relief drugs but simply gave me a whistle to blow into. Back home it was common for women to be knocked out completely but here women were encouraged to be an active part of the process. I demanded an anesthetic for my pain and the doctor said no. I was outraged. But soon enough, my beautiful baby boy was born. I couldn't believe the feelings of love and empowerment having just experienced the miracle of giving birth. Having my baby this way reminded me about the strength and resilience of my body and the natural way in which women have been having babies for thousands of years. Most of the time we don't need all the extra "help" – forceps and pulling and stirrups and drugs and distractions from letting our bodies do the work for us. Naturally, Jim was by my side throughout the birth. It felt right.

We had both assumed that if we had a boy he would be circumcised, but in Germany this was thought of as barbaric. Just like it was our tradition to circumcise, it was their tradition not to, so it was difficult to make them understand why we wanted to inflict pain on our perfect baby boy. The clinic refused to do the procedure but knew how important it was for us, so they organized a Rabbi to come to the clinic and perform the circumcision.

We took little Chris back to our small apartment at Frau Lintner's and began settling into our new routine. A nurse would come to the house and help me to breastfeed. The first few days were miserable. I had a caked breast, a lot of pain and no luck to begin with. I thought it was madness. I thought they didn't know what they were doing. Thankfully, the nurse pursued with me helping break down the caked milk with hot pads and eventually Chris took to the breast like a natural.

Jim was amazing. He was very supportive and a great companion. We were deeply in love. He took pride in being a father and I have pictures of him holding and bathing Chris in those early days. He was warm and loving and helpful. I couldn't have dreamed of a better partner.

Then, soon enough, the time came for us to head home. A friend of mine, Doris Eshelman, helped me buy clothes for Chris for his maiden voyage to America. Doris could speak German and made the process a lot easier.

When Christopher was six-weeks-old we boarded the ship. Chris was the best baby you could hope for. I fed him only breast milk so we didn't need to cart around bottles. This, of course, caused a lot of attention.

I remember the ship's captain announcing, "This is little Christopher, coming to America for the first time."

I was eager to see my family and share with them my new pride and joy. I couldn't wait to show Chris off. I was so excited to be going home to my family and the familiarity of the things I'd always known. After all, there's no place like home.

Jim and Barbara holding up the Leaning Tower of Pisa while holidaying from studies in Munich, Germany, 1956.

Barbara with newborn Chris at 6-hours-old

Barbara receiving a prize for the best hat on the return trip from Germany to USA on board the Holland-American Line RMS Nieuw Amsterdam in 1956.

## CHAPTER FOUR

### The Busy Years

Jim and I arrived home to Kansas City, Missouri to a wonderfully warm welcome. Our families were over the moon to meet their new grandson, Christopher, who was just six-weeks-old. We stayed with Jim's parents, Dan and Grace Guilfoil, at Bellefontaine Street, until we got on our feet and moved into our own home. We rented the house on Harrison Street, Kansas City from Jim's father. It took a little while but soon enough we had settled back into American life, although I did dearly miss my sister, Alice. She had married her boyfriend Rex Fischer while Jim and I were in Germany and they still lived in Nebraska. I missed having Alice close by, especially now that I had Christopher. Life was busy with a young child but I had no idea how busy things could get. Over the next decade, life would bring me many joys and challenges.

I soon fell pregnant with our second son while Jim, Christopher and I were living on Harrison Street. One day in particular stands out in my mind when I think about our time there. Chris and I were at home when a tornado struck out of the blue. Pregnant at the time, I bundled up my young boy and took him down into the basement, nestling in the southwest corner. When the rattling commotion ceased we emerged from our hideout to learn that the neighbor's roof had half lifted off. It was one of the worst tornadoes in the history of Kansas City and we had narrowly avoided it.

The months wore on and my belly was growing quickly; our trio would soon become four. Life was unfurling for me nicely, although my second pregnancy was very different to the first. When Timothy Michael was born at St Joseph's Hospital on January 13, 1958, I felt like I was a world away from where I had been when I gave birth to Chris in that tiny clinic in Munich with just a whistle to dull the pain. Even the lead-up to Tim's birth had been different, so I knew not to expect the same experience this time around. I went into labor on my mom's birthday. Jim was working away from home and didn't make it back in time for the birth but Mom was there to hold my hand and pat my forehead with a cool flannel. Tim was a special present for her and it was lovely they shared their birthday. Despite Mom being there I was disturbed by how sterile everything was. I had told our obstetrician, Dr Cooper, about my experience in Germany and that I wanted to do things as I had before: naturally, trusting my body to do what it was designed to do. He was accommodating to a degree but still within the medical boundaries that he felt necessary. Dr Cooper was somewhat invasive compared with the old ship's doctor in Germany who had barely poked his head through the birthing room door, leaving me in the hands of the hebamme, trusting everything would be fine but reassuring me he was there if I needed help. Regardless of the different approaches, Tim was born as healthy and as strong as his big brother. I was the one that felt different.

Jim and I were amazed at the American approach to birth. Women were frequently anesthetized during labor or opted for a cesarean to avoid the birthing process, doctors also used stirrups and forceps and suction and other tools. I felt this was – for the most part – unnecessary and I became passionate about letting people know about our empowering experience of natural childbirth. I became the President of the Natural Childbirth Association and worked for several years campaigning for doing things the natural way. We felt that women would miss out on the birth if they were knocked out. At the time there were also no husbands allowed in the delivery room out of fear they might faint and or be in the way. It was "women's work" after all. Ridiculous. I thought these myths got in the way of a couple experiencing the magic of birth. Women even had to have a blessing from church after giving birth to get "cleansed" as if it was a dirty thing, as if you were defiled in some way by sexuality. It was amazing to me how people could see sex as a dirty thing and not part of the beauty of life. Jim and I wanted the rest of the world to wake up to the fact that we didn't need to get in the way of that, we needed to get out of the way and let our bodies do what they do best.

Soon after Tim's birth, in 1958, Jim got a scholarship to work on his PhD at Marquette University, in Milwaukee, so we moved into city housing near the campus. The following year, on April 10, 1959, our first daughter Pamela Sue was born at St Luke's Catholic Hospital. She was just divine. With our growing brood we decided we needed a bigger house and moved again to a larger place. Luckily we did, because the following year, on November 29, 1960, our third son Gregory Stephen joined us. His was a good birth and I had lots of support from family and friends.

Family life had become a cacophony of learning, growth, fun and feeding the masses. I reveled in being a mother and tried my best to keep the balance of family life. Then, we were blessed again, on August 14, 1962, when Daniel Martin was born in Milwaukee. He was a huge baby. Dr Beaver, my obstetrician at the time, carried him around the delivery room saying, "Wow, this kid looks three-months-old". It was a decade of diapers and doting and dos and don'ts and I can't emphasize enough the importance of family and friends and being connected to my church community have been in my life. Indeed, it was my Catholic upbringing that influenced our prolific childbearing. At the time I didn't believe in birth control; I was taught it was a sin. I don't believe that now, of course. But back then I truly felt that contraception wasn't an option for me. The church had instilled many views and beliefs in me, some of which I was beginning to question.

The Guilfoil family in early 1964: Jim, Barbara and infant Sarah and in front from left Chris, Bobo, Pam, Greg and Tim.

## CHAPTER FIVE

### Sarah and New Challenges

It was the early 1960s and the world was transforming socially, culturally and politically. In 1963, the Second Vatican Council renewed its doctrine with a modern perspective. It was that same year that our beautiful daughter Sarah Elizabeth was born in Milwaukee on October 13, 1963. Her birth was much like any of my previous American births. There was nothing of note during the pregnancy to indicate that something wasn't right but in the days after she arrived, it quickly became apparent that Sarah was not like the rest.

In the very early stages of Sarah's gestation, before I even realized I was carrying her, I had contracted the Asian flu. I was very ill at the time, depleted of energy and had a dangerously high fever. We were still living in Milwaukee at that time but during my pregnancy we moved back to Madison, Wisconsin. I didn't think twice about having had the Asian flu and would never have dreamed it would influence my unborn child but when Sarah arrived she was immediately different. She didn't cry. She was floppy like a dishrag. I'd had five other babies and they had always screamed upon their birth, announcing their arrival with an almighty shriek, hungry for life. Sarah lay silent and still. It worried me. I couldn't get her to breastfeed and she was disengaged, gazing vacantly away. I continued to teach her to suck and by six weeks she was feeding like a trooper and I ended up breastfeeding her successfully for a year.

We had moved back to Madison, Wisconsin, because Jim had got a job teaching at Edgewood College. The Dominican Sisters generously let our large family use the house opposite the college on Edgewood Avenue. Meanwhile, Jim was still travelling back to Milwaukee to finish his PhD. The summer we brought Sarah home, it was a juggling act. Our new baby girl needed a lot of extra care but in those days help was not as readily available. The Dominican nuns helped me do the housework and get the kids off to school while I was caring for Sarah. Doctors couldn't explain to us why Sarah had no muscle tone. Her eyes were not normal; they told us she was blind. She couldn't even hold her tiny head up. But she did have some responses and I refused to accept she was helpless. The doctors took blood and did chromosome studies on Jim and I, as well as the kids. They ruled out Down syndrome and couldn't give us much more information other than they thought that when I had the Asian flu at five weeks pregnant it disturbed Sarah's early developmental stages. It is this time when the eyes, the muscles and organs are forming at a microscopic level. The stress on my body altered the fetus's growth, causing enough damage to change Sarah slightly but not enough to cause a miscarriage.

Despite everything the doctors told me, I knew that if I persisted with her she would improve. I used to hang a string with a big red bow on the end to see if I could get her eyes to follow it. The doctors had said it was no hope but when her gaze followed the bow, I knew she could see something. One of the nuns got a team of people together and they would pattern Sarah to crawl on the dining room table. They called this crawl creeping. Neighbors such as Mary Richmeyer and Marnie and Scott Black helped with the patterning. Sister Mary Yaeger, a Dominican nun, had studied the Dolman Delacato patterning method at the Institute for the Achievement of Human Potential. While there has been much medical criticism of patterning, at a time when doctors were offering no hope this early intervention was of huge benefit to Sarah. At the same time, the Dominican sisters were praying for the canonization of Samuel Mazzuchelli, the founder of the Sinsinawa Dominican Sisters. They were using Sarah's case as a support for his canonization. In 1993, Pope John Paul II declared him Venerable, the first step in the process of elevating an individual to sainthood. In the patterning, I would hold Sarah's head and the others would move her arms and legs to replicate the motion of crawling. After a long 18-months of trying, Sarah started to respond. Then, at age two she sat up on her own and finally she walked at age four. These hard-earned milestones will stay with me forever.

A year after Sarah was born, I fell pregnant again, but this time I lost my baby. Like before, the pregnancy had been unplanned. I was at home and Jim was away working when I began to bleed. I was terrified and called my friend Kathy Burdulis who laid me on the couch and organized the nuns to watch the children before taking me to the hospital. It was very sad. I miscarried about three-and-a-half months into the pregnancy and I remember seeing the tiny little fetus in the bedpan. I baptized David Lawrence with the nurse's assistance and stayed in hospital for a day while Kathy and the nuns looked after the kids.

Jim's parents lent us the money to buy a house at 1812 Keyes Avenue, Madison. Jim supported my growth as an individual and encouraged me to pursue my studies so I started classes at Edgewood College to finish my degree in education. Tuition was free because Jim was teaching at the school. One night a week I would attend classes. I completed one class a year for eight years and finally graduated with a Bachelor's Degree in Science majoring in Education and Theology.

I was busy and I knew I needed help with the children, especially Sarah and my youngest son Danny, whom we had nicknamed Bobo. We had given Danny that name because the kids used to watch this television program called _Bobo The Clown_ and sometimes Danny would act like Bobo. It stuck. His whole life people have called him Bobo, even his wife and kids. As a kid he was a gentle soul who was very sensitive to Sarah. I often worried he was missing out due to Sarah's immediate needs. I needed to do something else to help Sarah and Bobo so I placed an advertisement in the local newspaper advertising for expressions of interest in opening a Montessori school in Madison, Wisconsin. I had read about Maria Montessori and how her teaching techniques had achieved marvelous results with street kids in Italy. These otherwise "good-for-nothing" children had flourished under her teaching methods. Maria believed that if children were taught something at the right developmental time, they would learn it more deeply than they ever would otherwise. Montessori teaching used sound and sensations and allowed for expression and individualism. Montessori methods had been successfully applied to children with various learning disabilities and developmental problems and we were desperate to try anything.

The day the newspaper advertisement was published was wild and windy. Everyone in the neighborhood was battening down the hatches, including Jim who was putting up our storm windows when the phone began to ring. It didn't stop all day. The interest from parents and other community members in starting a school teaching in the Montessori manner blew us away. We scheduled a meeting at our house to discuss the topic and 15-20 people came. Starting an alternative school wasn't without its challenges but Jim and I joined forces with Professor Andre Delbecq. He and his wife had a little girl Bobo's age who was also struggling and they knew a woman named Marianne Gerritsen who had been trained in Holland under Maria Montessori herself. Her husband was a professor at UW. How the stars aligned to make this happen amazed me. There were only a handful of people teaching in this new way and we had one of them at the helm of our fledgling school.

As you can imagine, this began a whole new era of learning and growth for Sarah and Bobo, who both attended that first Montessori school in Madison. We watched them flourish. Those two were always very close; even today Bobo and Sarah have a different bond to the rest of the kids. As a toddler he knew something wasn't right. He would hang around the table and you would see his little fingers holding on tight as we worked with her, watching on patiently, intuitively knowing that Sarah needed me more than he did.

The Montessori school and my studies were woven in and around the sea of family life. Jim was always very into his work but he had become increasingly busy and more distracted by his academic pursuits and had retracted from family life somewhat. I was active in the Blessed Sacrament Parish and garnered strength from God and my friends and family around me. Neighbors such as Barb Hammond, Maria Justiliano and the Stranskys were another source of strength. The children sailed through school – with the exception of Sarah, who became stronger and more settled every year. Luckily for our family, Madison was ahead of its time for disability services and was perhaps the first place in the world that integrated mainstream education and disability learning. Sarah later moved from the Montessori school to a regular school where she had her own classes but socialized with the other kids at playtimes. Some would tease her, calling her a retard, but her siblings would always stand up for their little sister. I remember Chris would say, "She's not retarded, she's re-smarted!" Sure enough, she would soon charm them with her charismatic and caring personality and anyone who began by teasing Sarah would soon learn to love her.

Sarah playing with pups, July 1966.

Two special life-long buddies, even though Bobo might tease Sarah with N.F.S.G. (no friends Sarah Guilfoil), the quick reply would be N.F.B.G!

The family home at 1812 Keyes Avenue, Madison, during winter.

## CHAPTER SIX

### The Times Are Changing

Throughout The Sixties people started to dress in new ways, they listened to new music and liberated themselves from conservative views. The world was changing in ways that as a child I would have thought unimaginable. People were opening up to new ways of thinking and complex cultural changes were afoot. Jim and I had always been involved with social causes and were not shy to stand up for people who were marginalized or hard-done-by. The Sixties was a time whereby everyday people such as Jim and myself challenged social norms, propelling society into new realms. We'd always been active in community groups and organizations full of likeminded people putting our minds together to make a better world. But in the 1960s and early 1970s this became one of our primary focuses.

I can't remember ever having any negative judgment for other people. I always found it easy to empathize, imagining what it must be like in another person's shoes. I could feel what was right from wrong and if something rubbed me the wrong way I did everything in my power to amend it. I think it was these traits that forced me to step up to so many challenges in my life, even if they weren't my own. I was involved not only to right the wrongs, but also because I thrived in supportive, empowering social situations and always surrounded myself with passionate, intelligent, meaningful people. My life has been enriched by these experiences and interactions.

Like I said, I learnt early in life that you don't have to be Catholic to be a good person. I've had friends from all walks of life and each was special and worthy in their own way. I still maintain my Catholic faith and deep religious roots but it was in the 1960s that I began to challenge what it truly meant to me to be Catholic. Prior to the Vatican Council starting in 1963 and the church opening its doors to change, we had been practicing our own version of Catholicism. There were just some parts of the church that we did not feel were relevant or reality-based in the modern world so a group of us left our local parish and started our own group of John XXIII, who was the pope who later brought the changes in. We changed the liturgy from Latin to English so we could understand it and we took communion in the hand, rather than on the tongue. We opened our group to anyone who wanted to join. At the time these things were very unconventional and quite shocking to some and we became know around the city for doing these new things. We sang, we worshipped God and above all, we were good Catholics.

We made lifelong friends including Rita, Woody and Tekla Wodarczyk, Ed and Aggie Steichen, Bill and Joyce Griffin and the Quinns.

Jim and I also helped rally for the United Farm Workers, a union that was established for farm workers who suffered poor working conditions. Many were immigrants whose children would also work without adequate basic human needs such as food and shelter. The UFW, inspired by Cesar Chavez, worked to improve the social and economic conditions of farm workers and to fight discrimination. There were strikes and lawsuits and boycotts, including the _Don't Eat Lettuce_ campaign, which we were heavily involved with. This campaign was a way of involving people who wanted to help but didn't know how. It was an important demonstration of economic power.

Jim and I also supported unwed mothers through the 60s and 70s. Our doors were always open to anyone in need and without judgment, we cared and provided a safe-haven for anyone who needed it.

We protested against the Vietnam War. During the war, a large portion of the American public rallied against their homeland's involvement. Jim and I were front and center. I remember one day there was a parade around the capitol with a group of mums with strollers and soldiers out there with guns. One person lay down in front of a soldier-filled bus en-route to war, to prove a point that the unnecessary killing was wrong. We marched in Milwaukee and in the Welfare Mothers' March on Madison with Father Groppi, a widely known protester at the time. We also worked on anti-war strategies with other campaigners such as Philip and Daniel Berrigan. One night we held a meeting at our home and Philip sat in the living room while the house spilled over with peacekeeping conversations.

Helping others achieve equality and a fair go became an integral part of my purpose in life, that and raising a healthy, happy family. Some people ask me how I could fit so many things into one life. I don't know any different. I just did it.

In 1968, four years after my miscarriage, I gave birth to our beautiful Jean Marie in Stoughton. Jim was present for the birth this time and we weren't the only ones welcoming this new baby girl. Because of our involvement with the Natural Childbirth Association, there was much publicity around the birth. I wanted to have Jim in the delivery room but this still was not widely accepted in America at the time. We found a doctor in Stoughton, about a one-hour drive from Madison, who would let him by my side during the birth and a photographer joined us in the moment in an effort to publicize the normality of the act.

The following year, in 1969, our lovely Joyce was born and the birth was filmed for Childbirth Education Classes. I became a member of La Leche League, a group that promoted breastfeeding. It was causes such as these that I felt people needed to know about, so they could make their own educated decisions. These years were the most transformative for me and for the World as I knew it. Social issues, the church, the community, the medical sector, family issues and modern life were all in metamorphosis.

In 1971, beautiful baby Meg was born, the youngest of my nine loving children. That was a busy year. Across the world, in Australia, another special person was also born, the one and only Wayne Carey. I had no idea about the game of Australian Rules football at this stage, nor would I learn about the famous player for many years to come.

It was 1972 when I finally graduated from Edgewood College after going to school one night a week for eight years. I'd finally finished my degree, despite the challenges that life had put in my path. It was a Bachelor of Science in Education and Theology – a B.S. I joked.

The kids went to Randall Public School, Blessed Sacrament Parochial School and Edgewood, all of which were near our house. While they were at school I volunteered at the nearby Portal Foster Center for Emotionally Disturbed Children, which was around the corner from where we lived. I would go and work with the struggling kids at the center. There was so much difficulty with their behavior that it prompted me to up-skill so I was better equipped to help them. I took graduate courses on behavioral modification at the University of Wisconsin – Madison's Waisman Centre, towards a Masters degree I never ended up completing. At the time I believed that by gaining other graduate qualifications it would give me more job opportunities. This studying and volunteering at the Portal Foster Clinic went on into the early 1970s.

Then, in 1976 I became the director of Religious Education at St. Paul's University Catholic Center and ran the Gay Ministry, conducting private masses in the library for gay Catholics who at that stage were not welcome to attend regular mass. I went on to meet a woman named Jane Redmont and together we started the RCIA, the Rite of Christian Initiation of Adults, helping and teaching people to become Catholics as adults. I worked in a beautiful chapel at the University Catholic Center where students would come for religious education and support. It was my job to coordinate this and create a space for them to practice their faith. By developing the RCIA it enabled adult students to study and become Catholic at their own will. The students' yearlong religious studies would culminate in a Saturday night vigil where baptism, communion and confirmation were all done at once. As a group, we were unique and did unconventional things such as set up The Bread Ministry where we were the first group to bake our own bread to use for communion, which in those days was quite radical. A woman named Hedy Coyne, a long-time volunteer at the University Catholic Center, ran the group and I helped her. I remember it was grainy wholemeal-style bread and the university professors' wives would help us. During communion the priest would break it up and we would each approach the altar. Before you ate the bread you turned around and gave a piece to the person behind you. I always liked that.

Barbara visiting St Michael the Archangel church in Kansas City, Missouri, where she was baptized. She attended St Michael's Grade School next to the church.

Barbara and Jim at the birth of Jean Marie in Stoughton, Wisconsin, February 25, 1968.

The family is growing up: (at back) Bobo, Jim and his parents Grace and Dan, (in front) Barbara and Meg, Sarah, Joyce and Jean Marie.

## CHAPTER SEVEN

### Finding Friendship Forever

Somewhere in between raising nine children, striving for the justice of others and pursuing our careers and social connections, Jim and I drifted from one another. We had shared many great joys as man and wife and had supported each other through several life-changing decades. But lately, Jim had become tangled in his intellectual pursuits and retreated from family life. His cool demeanor and easily agitated temper became increasingly difficult to navigate and he rarely showed true affection. I had loved Jim very deeply when I was younger but as the 1970s wore on, I felt myself becoming a lonely woman. I could see the children were growing up fast and I knew that soon they would no longer need to hold onto me.

For many years Jim and I ignored the deterioration of our marriage. Sarah's needs came first and then the needs of our eight loving others. During difficult times, with my faith and the support of family and friends, I did my best. Jim buried himself in his books, drinking beer and smoking his pipe. I felt ignored. So, when I met a woman named Joy O'Grosky, we stumbled upon a certain kind of connection that we both had longed for.

Our church, the Blessed Sacrament Parish in Madison, Wisconsin, often held missions where people would come together and connect and a guest priest would speak. In the morning we would have scripture and in the evening a social event, at which we were encouraged to reach out to new people whom we were not familiar with. I had seen this very attractive, well-shod woman at church several times before and had admired how pretty she was. She was always dressed meticulously, like she had just stepped off the runway at a fashion show. I was a simple, no-fuss woman who that day had spent several hours in the garden at home and was still in my dirty jeans and a t-shirt. Joy and I certainly looked like we were from different planets but this exercise was to encourage us out of our comfort zones and into the company of someone new, so I walked up to her and simply said, "Hello". Silence followed as she looked down her nose at me. "Oh, ah, yes?" she replied reticently, as if she was bothered by my presumptuous out-reached hand. "I think I've seen you in church with your overalls on," Joy continued, as if I was letting the side down somehow. I was defensive and challenged her: "Well, who are you?" I asked, demanding an explanation for her arrogance. Immediately we both blushed, embarrassed by our egos.

Others were gathered in pairs and small groups, sitting across from each other on folded chairs, engaging in the exercise to connect with someone new. Joy and I hovered awkwardly and continued our conversation, which was bumpy to begin with – who, what, where, how and why. But as we exchanged pieces of our lives we learned we were not that different from one another after all. Joy had a young son, David, who was struggling with a learning disability. Joy was struggling too. To cope, Joy poured her energy and passion into creating a seemingly perfect appearance. When I told her about Sarah and my struggles she let her guard down like I don't think she ever had.

Joy and her husband Brad lost their first child at birth. Later they were able to adopt young David and only discovered his hyperactivity as he developed. When Joy started opening up to me about her son it was almost as if her guise was falling down around her. This common bond of having a child with a disability bound us and the conversation flowed with ease. Then, all of a sudden the exercise was over and our one-on-one had finished. But our friendship had only just begun.

Joy became very special to me very quickly. She was beautiful. Not only was she perfectly presented but she also had an elegant grace and wasn't over-done. Her nails were always perfectly manicured and her home was immaculate. She had class and kept things very neat – if something could be shined up, it would be shimmering. She ordered me to pluck my eyebrows and even suggested I get a mole removed my nose. "You're too pretty to have that," I remember her stating. I had never thought of doing such things, but I did as I was told and got the mole removed and tidied my bushy brows. Whenever we get together now we still laugh about how she could ever be so brash.

I think parts of us rubbed off on each other. I would try to invigorate my life with Joy's crafty artistic touch and infuse my home with some of the splendor that she appeared to so easily create. I think she learned from me there are more rewarding things in life than having an immaculate house. The truth was that we both had something to escape from. We were each other's respite from reality. Together we could be ourselves and we found complete acceptance from each other. We were able to be silly and laugh and be free of our responsibilities as wives and mothers and anything else. We could just be us. We dressed up in funny costumes and laughed out loud and shared our deepest hopes and fears. Joy was about 15-years younger than I was and we had very different approaches to life but we became inextricably linked. Joy was creative and savvy and I was practical. Sometimes I would go over and look after David for her to give her a break. When David was about six or seven-years-old, Brad and Joy adopted another baby, Kimberley, and asked me to be her Godmother. She was a beautiful, perfect baby.

Through our church Joy and I met three others and together we formed an odd group of people. But we had a blast. We befriended a boy in his late teens called Mike Busch who was struggling with his identity and accepting himself. I guess we all were in a way. I had a feeling Mike was gay, but at the time he hadn't come to terms with the idea. It didn't matter to me in the least. I could see this boy's sparkle and I drew it out of him. He was a wonderful singer and performer and had a wild charisma that captured me and everyone else he came into contact with. Joy and I took him under our wings and helped him find his.

The church cook, Vange, also joined our left-of-field clan. She was a jovial, heavy-set older woman with a wicked sense of humor. But she was also very lonely. With us she found connection, a family. She would have us in stitches with her hilarious approach to life. Then, Joe Neumaier, another church cook, also joined the group. Joe had a dry wit and was such a funny guy. He later came out as gay and married his partner, Ron, a schoolteacher. Together they now organize the Miss Universe pageant.

During those special years our unusual group of friends shared, it didn't matter if you were gay, straight, or zigzagged, just as long as you were yourself, you were accepted. Together we did such outlandish things: we would dress up and watch the Oscars together; go out and sing at the piano bar at night; get carried away singing and dancing and make up skits for church, putting on stage shows and howling in fits of laughter at the ridiculousness of our antics. I was a member of the Broom Street alternative theatre. In one of the shows there I had to pretend to be a dog on a treadmill, barking, and then I was a snake, slithering around on the floor.

Whenever we caught up, none of us brought our partners or kids – it was our time. It helped me cope so much during those years to have that space and humor in my life. I felt completely loved and accepted. I'm a terrible singer – I can't hold a tune to save myself – but I would sing my heart out when I was with my friends, and they loved me just the way I was. I believe we were feeding on each other's strengths. Sometimes in life you can just share a person for who they are.

Barbara, Vange and Joy dressed up as the Porter Sisters to watch the Oscars.

(Top left) Mike Busch, Barbara and Mike Burkeley in 1979. Barbara at the time was studying at Loyola University in Chicago; (top right) Barbara, Joe and Joy dressed for the Miss America Pageant; (middle) Mike Busch made an album entitled _Songs to Die For_ and dedicated one of the songs to Barbara; (bottom) the Guilfoil family at Easter 1980 – (from back left) Bobo, Tim, Greg, Pam, Meg, Barbara, Chris, and (front) Clint (aka King), Jean Marie, Sarah, Joyce and Jim.

## CHAPTER EIGHT

### New Love

I had married at age 20 and had a lot of beliefs about what it meant to be a good person, a good Catholic. So when I met a man called Brian Donovan in the early 80s it turned my world upside-down. Already, my marriage to Jim had become more of an arrangement; the romantic love that we had felt so strongly in our earlier years had dwindled. Jim spent long hours at work and when he returned home he would retreat to study and read in private. Emotionally, I was closer to my best friend Joy than my own husband.

One Sunday night mass, a very different man who I'd never seen before soared into my life like sunshine piercing a heavy cloud. He wore rubber flip-flops and a summery smile. Brian Donovan was from Australia and was studying in Madison, Wisconsin on a temporary visa. He was like no one else I had ever encountered. His casual church attire ruffled the feathers of some, but to me it was quite disarming.

A few days later I saw Brian again standing in the line at a church dinner and I went right up to him and introduced myself. He had an unusual Aussie accent and we quickly sparked a friendship. It turned out we had a lot in common: church, politics, human rights, teaching, we were on the same page and over the following weeks we developed a bond that I had never experienced with a man.

At Halloween, my good friend Joy and I dressed up for the festive parade on State Street. The annual affair drew thousands of people in fancy dress for a congregation of costumes. Joy went as a pumpkin, sporting a big orange bedspread that we secured at the base and stuffed with newspaper. Her bright green tights were the finishing touch. I danced the line of "good catholic" in my outfit as a pregnant bishop with a basketball for a belly. In a twist of fate, amid a sea of thousands of fairies and goblins, we ran into our new friend Brian who invited us for a coffee at his apartment on nearby Francis Street. It was as I sipped my hot drink and we talked with ease that I realized this guy was something special.

Shortly after that chance encounter, a group of people from our church – including Brian and I – attended a religious retreat to New Mexico in 1981. This is where we started our relationship. It was obvious we were mad about each other. When I was with Brian I felt alive, I felt understood and interested and excited. We shared a love for the church but we also weren't going to let the church rules dictate our happiness.

Jim was angry of course but he was busy too and the anger didn't last long. I think in a way he had already let go of me. I was still living at home with him and the younger children but a few of the older boys had moved out already. Brian came to dinner at the house several times and even though things were messy he was the one thing that made sense to me.

Then, too soon, it was time for Brian to head home to Australia. When he left, it felt as though my world had fallen out. There was a huge gap in my life where vibrant Brian had shined his light. I knew I was probably in love with this man.

Jim and I filed for an uncontested divorce. We both agreed. Neither of us had reason to debate it; the relationship had come to an end. We were still living together when I got a letter from Brian, asking me to come and visit him in Australia. He was feeling the same way as I was: miserable. I was still working at St Paul's University Catholic Center and asked my boss Father Steve Umhoefer for a leave of absence. He was very supportive and had known Brian also. He said, "Go. Take six-weeks leave, and go." Friends from the center, such as Father Charles, Hedy Coyne, Fred Devett and Carol Everton also supported me. Brian sent the money for my airline ticket and would meet me at Tullamarine Airport, Melbourne, but what about the kids? Could I really leave them behind?

It was one of the hardest things I've ever done. Jim was still living in the house and teaching at Edgewood College. Pam, who was then 22, was still living at home, as well as Meg, 10, Joyce, 12, Jean Marie, 13, and Sarah, who was nearly 18 and very involved with her school program. Pam could sense that I needed to do this and she promised she would help Jim look after the kids, especially Sarah. Jim was resigned to my going to Australia. I was heartbroken leaving the children behind but after meeting Brian I realized that life would never be the same. So I got on a plane and flew to the other side of the world, expecting to be back home in six weeks.

I arrived in Australia on October 15, 1981. I landed with mixed emotions but as soon as I saw Brian's face I felt secure. We had a wonderful time together, making dinners and walking on the beach at Ocean Grove. I met his family – his Dad Laurie (also called Leo), his brother Kevin and wife Julie, and their kids Kathryn and Joanne who were about the same ages as Jean Marie, Joyce and Meg. Then there was Kev and Julie's youngest, Pete, and we could not forget Laurie's dog, Paddy.

Brian and I did a bit of exploring and he showed me the city lights in Melbourne, such a vibrant city. We caught up with his Uncle Frank and Thelma. Brian's family and friends were very warm and open and even though I was missing home they made me feel very welcome. The whole trip I jostled with the idea of what I would do when the six weeks was up. On what was supposed to be my last night in Australia, this battle reached a crescendo and Brian and I stayed up all night in turmoil about once again being separated. We both felt incredibly blessed to have found each other and neither of us wanted to give that away. I made the incredibly difficult decision to tell my family I would not be coming home right then. But promised that Brian and I would be back to get them as soon as we could.

To begin with it was quite an adjustment. Having come from the comfort of home, surrounded by my own family and friends, it was a whole new experience for me. At the time Brian was commuting to Melbourne, teaching mathematics at a university, and I would spend long days alone in Ocean Grove, yearning for my children. I felt a gaping hole where their school reports, grazed knees, dinners, baths, homework, games and questions had once competed for my attention. I had left all the connections I had worked so hard to build and I was alone here. But I loved Brian. And that was it.

We were married on May 7, 1982, at St Peter and Paul's Catholic Church in South Melbourne. Because I had been married previously, the church required that I fill out a form declaring that my marriage to Jim was not real and we were never in love. I refused. My marriage to Jim was very real and at the time I loved him very much. We created nine beautiful lives and I shared myself with him in every way imaginable. I wasn't going to disregard that time in my life to get around the church's ridiculous rules. I remember well-known Melbourne priest Father Bob McGuire putting his hands on his baldhead and saying, "How are we going to do this? How are we going to get around the church police?" Then, Father Bob came up with a plan: Brian and I would be married in the Catholic Church by the rights of the Uniting Church. Problem solved, ethics intact. It was a beautiful and simple ceremony and we held the reception of 60 friends and family in the back of the church. I had followed my heart in a new direction to the Land of Oz and now I would make it my mission to help my children find their way to join me.

Barbara and Brian with The Twelve Apostles in the background, on the Great Ocean Road, in Victoria, in 1981.

(Clockwise from top left) A touch of Australia – Barbara with a baby goat; Barbara panning for gold in Ballarat, Victoria. This was on a day trip with neighbors Ada and Bill Foster; with a koala; a view from the lounge room at home at 35 The Esplanade, Ocean Grove; celebrating Brian's dad's birthday with Joanne, Kathryn and Pete Donovan at Leo's home in Torquay, Victoria; with a kookaburra.

## CHAPTER NINE

### Changing Lives Down Under

Soon after Brian and I were married I began working with homeless youths that Father Bob McGuire would round up from their South Melbourne hideouts. I would try to engage with these youths to teach them literacy skills. I found ways of connecting with each individual on a level they could relate to, finding something they liked such as prize fighting or comic books to develop trust and build rapport so they were more likely to open up and apply themselves.

I began working with Karingal in Geelong and because of my experience both with Sarah and in my work in America I think they recognized I would be very helpful to the disability sector. In November 1982, Brian and I went back to America to get the kids. Before I left, Karingal created a new role for me as the Director of Residential Services. I think they wanted to make sure I came back.

Brian and I returned to Madison, Wisconsin to organize the immigration of Meg, Joyce, Jean Marie and Sarah. Jim was now living with another woman so we were able to stay at the house on Keyes Avenue. While we were there we helped my second son, Tim, start his Mexican food business, Pasqual's, which would grow to be a successful chain of five restaurants.

I remember the day we were leaving America to return Down Under. Tickets were booked and bags were packed. Sarah, Jean Marie and Meg were ready to go, but Joyce was nowhere to be found. We searched high and low. I was devastated. Where was she? The time came for us to head to the airport and there was nothing more we could do. We had to leave her behind. It turned out she didn't want to move to Australia and her defensive big brother had hidden her.

When we returned and settled in at Ocean Grove in May of 1983 I started my new role as Director of Residential Services at Karingal. Jean Marie and Meg started school at Sacred Heart College but later moved to Queenscliff High School. Sarah began programs with Karingal. In the end, Joyce came around to the idea of moving to Australia and she and Pam joined us in January 1984. Pam ran Karingal's Holiday Cottage at Leopold and I was her boss and Joyce joined Jean Marie and Meg at Queenscliff High School.

Through my work I was involved with lobbying the government for increased disability funding. Residential funding was at only 50 per cent for Karingal Residential Services. The other half of funds had to be raised through fundraising and commercial enterprises. Lobbying for 100 per cent funding was a major part of my work and we achieved this feat.

I joined the STAR advocacy group for intellectual disability issues in 1983 and remained on the Board until 1989. In 1986 the Federal Disability Act was passed after we worked hard to support the dignity of and equal opportunities for people with a disability. I worked with John Gorman, Executive Director of Karingal, and we frequently visited the Sunbury Institution in our work to rewrite the Intellectually Disabled Persons Services Act. I worked at Karingal for 18 years and during that time became President of the National Council for Intellectual Disability based in Canberra. I was also on the Board at Bethany Family Services for 15 years.

All the while Brian and I had been warring our own battle with disability and immigration. Bringing Sarah to Australia had been quite a process and she still wasn't recognized as an equal resident with her sisters. At our interviews for permanent residence at the Australian Consulate in Chicago on April 19, 1983, the interviewer had noted, _"Although she is 20-years-old, Sarah is totally dependent on her parents. At i/v her mother said that Sarah is moderately mentally and intellectually retarded but 'educable'. I have asked that a report be provided on Sarah's condition for referral to Canberra."_ For the interview I had filled out a declaration form in which I left a question blank. Question 40 asked whether Sarah had a 'mental condition'. So I drew a line through the question. This was to cause a later controversy with the Department of Immigration. There were many dispatches between Canberra, Geelong and Chicago over the next three weeks referring to Sarah's disability. Then on May 16, 1983, the Chief Medical Officer of the Australian Department of Health recommended that Sarah _"Does not meet medical standard. Reason No.10 in accordance with Attachment 7 to Chapter 6 of Migrant Entry Handbook. Code 03 applies."_ This was intended to signal that Sarah be refused permanent residency. At the time we were not aware of this. Inexplicably though there was a dispatch from the Department of Health in Canberra to Chicago stating _"Medically acceptable"._ The following day the Australian Consul wrote to Sarah: _"I am pleased to inform you that your application to migrate to Australia has been approved."_ The letter added that this covered Sarah and her three sisters.

We flew into Australia on May 31, 1983. Following Sarah's application for an Australian disability pension in October, 1983, we became aware that all was not well with her status as a permanent resident. Our struggle with Immigration had started and grew into a national campaign that we waged over the next eight years.

On November 3, 1983, an internal immigration memo from the Geelong Office had noted: _"I consider that there has been some attempt to conceal Sarah's condition. No mention was made of her condition to this office and Chicago reports that Question 40 on Sarah's M.47 was unanswered....Your comments and advice re action to be taken with regard to Sarah would be appreciated."_ The position adopted by the Department of Immigration was that Sarah was a P.I. or prohibited immigrant. Shortly afterwards and also unknown to us at the time, an internal Department of Immigration investigation concluded: _"Chicago made two administrative mistakes: 1) Issuing a migrant visa to a person with a prescribed illness which action involved a misinterpretation of advice from the Department of Health; and 2) Issuing a migrant visa without the appropriate code... In the circumstances, having issued a migrant visa, the Department cannot in good faith claim that Sarah Guilfoil is a P.I. because of a further administrative mistake."_

This did not stop department officers over the next eight years insisting Sarah was a prohibited immigrant (P.I.) or illegal immigrant. Over that time our campaign grew from politicians, State and Federal Ministers, to involve the media, state and national rights and advocacy organizations as well as grass roots campaigning. In the end, the Federal government agreed to do away with the coding practice and to establish a National Inquiry into Immigration and Disability with a view to legislative change. The Federal Executive Council involving the Governor General and Prime Minister made an order declaring Sarah's permanent residence. The issues that started with Sarah resulted in national changes affecting lots of people. Brian was invited to Parliament to make the first presentation to the Inquiry. People from far and wide contacted him to help them with their disability injustices and struggles. He led the charge. Through our persistence the government realized it had to change some of its outdated legislation and none of this would even have happened if we weren't bold enough not to tick that box.

In 2009, a second National Inquiry into Immigration and Disability was established. We made a submission titled _Hidden too long,_ describing how the Australian government's treatment of people with a disability was one of using prejudice dressed up as supporting 'health' and 'public interest'.

Brian's late Uncle Frank had worked earlier for Jack Ginifer, the Victorian Minister for Immigration and Ethnic Affairs and we think Frank may have had some influence or connections that helped. We will never know for sure as he died before our immigration struggle got going in late 1983.

Despite finally being accepted into Australia legally, Sarah didn't receive a pension for ten years. It didn't matter to us. We had her with us and we paid her way. When Sarah got permanent residency there was no reciprocity between America and Australia so to get an Australian passport you had to turn in your American one. We didn't want to do that but the year the government changed the rules to enable people to hold both passports in 1997, Sarah and I both became Australian citizens.

In my work I was faced with similar challenges and I pushed for change. People had accepted things how they were for too long. I could see that given a chance people with a disability could do more than they were given credit for. They could take care of themselves. They could learn about money, they could recognize the coins. They just had to be given the time. They could learn to do their own washing, cook their own meals and improve their hygiene. All it took was commitment to teaching them. In my work with Sarah and the kids at the Portal Foster Center back in Madison, I had seen what a difference time, energy and a tailored approach could make. In the 1980s Australia was behind the times in disability awareness. Now I believe we are leading the charge.

During my time as the Director for Residential Services at Karingal, I encountered a young man named Neville Porter who proved that given the time and effort, a huge difference could be made to a disabled person's life. He was from a marginalized family: his father was dead and his mother, three sisters and brother all had disabilities. I arranged for Neville to live at Wontama, a new Karingal training flat we had just opened in East Geelong, to teach people with disabilities independent living skills. The flats were staffed with a co-resident who did not have a disability to be a model for the residents.

Neville could hardly speak. He would sometimes murmur a grunt but many had disregarded him as dumb. I was drawn to this man. Somewhere deep inside I knew there was more to him, I just had to develop his trust and bring it out.

My job description didn't involve working with residents one-on-one but I made it a priority at times to do so. I would visit Neville in my own time and even included Brian in my attempt to reach out to him. Slowly but surely he began to show signs of improved communication. I think years of neglect had turned him inward and when the time was taken to teach him about the world, he blossomed like a spring orchard.

I took Neville with me to a conference at Colanda, an institution outside of Colac, in South Western Victoria, to demonstrate the change that time and effort could bring about. Neville – who prior to our work had never uttered much more than a word – delivered a speech to the crowd. It was a miracle. He blew everyone away.

Neville would go on to develop his communication and confidence skills so much that he landed a role at a community radio station. He had a daytime slot and would write out questions and interview people live on-air, all while coordinating the studio – a remarkable change from a man who had been written off as dumb.

Another scenario I encountered during my time working as the Director of Residential Services was with the Day family, who lived in East Geelong. All of the social services that were supposed to be helping the family had stopped providing their services because of the state of the house and challenges presented by the family. In reaching out to this marginalized family I became extremely emotionally invested and developed a close bond with them. In my mind, working with people was a full commitment, nothing else ever occurred to me. The Days would invite Brian and I over for dinner. Despite the challenges, this family was happy and they loved and defended each other. Something about them really struck a chord with me. Over time I arranged for 11 agencies to bring back services to meet their life needs.

As before, I needed an escape from the intense emotional load of work and family, I needed outlets for my own social joy. I had met Norma Rodger at an Ocean Grove Uniting Church afternoon tea where we were serving senior citizens. This was the start of another friendship. We found a shared interest in garage sales. We became garage sale buddies. Each week she would pick me up and we would do 'our thing'. Through Norma I met her daughter, Julie, who had a toddler, Liam. I became attracted to this little guy and was able to give comfort to Julie and Norma in the difficult times they were going through with medical issues confronting Liam. My love for this little boy has lasted to this day. We went through challenging stages in his life and enjoyed the successes that came. I must have had some influence on him as he became a North Melbourne Kangaroos supporter when his family went for another football team; he became a Roman Catholic when his family were Protestant; and he worked through bullying, medical issues and difficult times at school to go on to thrive on university studies and life. He is now Regional Administration Officer with the National Disability Insurance Agency that is having a huge impact on the lives of people with a disability.

As a relief from my heavy work schedule, I joined the Geelong Repertory Theatre. I enjoyed theatre back in Madison and knew it was a great way to meet new people. I worked with Debbi Fraser as the assistant director and assistant stage director for _The Wizard of Oz_ production and also took up small acting roles in several plays, including the Wife of Bath in _The Canterbury Tales_. I didn't have a lot of time to commit to theatre but it was something nice to do and I met a lot of good friends this way, including Julie and Brian Brylow and Cory Parfett.

Through work I was awarded the Churchill Fellowship in 1990-1991 to study pre-retirement planning for people with an intellectual disability. This study took me all the way back home to the Waisman Centre at the University of Wisconsin in Madison for three months and then I went on to promote the study outcomes across Australian services.

When I began teaching at the Karingal school in 1982, my principal, Jenny Wong, recommended a hairdresser to me, Murray McKinnon. He is such a special guy and has been my hairdresser now for 32 years. He has been a friend too. We have shared fun times and had endless personal conversations. He knows all the 'doings' of my everyday life.

Brian and I initiated the interest of the television show _60 Minutes_ regarding issues surrounding intellectual disability. We went on to be involved with four stories for the show from 1988 to 1997 and developed a close relationship with the producer, Alex Hodgkinson, and provided program advice on disability issues. Programs were filmed at our family home at Ocean Grove and each time the producer would insist on getting a shot of the host in conversation with the three of us as we strolled along the beach with the surf breaking alongside. Two shows were hosted by Jana Wendt, one by Jeff McMullin and another by Liz Hayes. Topics were on the need for group homes, ageing parents and also sterilization. Liz Hayes did a story about the legality of tubal ligation. I was in the process of trying to have Sarah sterilized to avoid making her life more complicated if she became pregnant. I had to state my case in court to get the permission to make medical decisions on Sarah's behalf.

I was elected President of the National Council of Intellectual Disability, the peak body for intellectual disability in Australia, with its main office in Canberra. I held the position from 1988-1992 and continued my role as Director of Residential Services at Karingal. I frequently flew to Canberra for meetings with federal ministers, particularly Brian Howe, which gave us another platform for change.

I set up the Home Help education program for Geelong City Council workers at the Gordon TAFE with Yvonne Smith and the help of Anne Henderson, Victorian State Parliament member for Geelong (mother of our current Federal House of Representatives member, Sarah Henderson) who had worked at The Gordon. Through the program, council workers were trained in how to help those living with a disability and a greater umbrella of care was established for the previously marginalized group.

Yvonne Smith and I also established Barwon Service Brokerage, the first of its kind in Victoria. Through Service Brokerage, a person with disability was enabled to have more control and choice in their services with support in accessing and paying for them. Later, Barwon Service Brokerage was taken up by Bethany Family Services and I was invited onto their Board of Management.

In 1989 I accepted an invitation to be an inaugural board member for the Victorian Advocacy League for Individuals with Disability (VALID) and stayed on the board until the year 2000. I was presented with life membership in 1999 by Denis Napthine, Minister for Community Services then and currently Victorian Premier.

Through all of these struggles my Catholic faith remained at the core of who I was. So many of my principles had been founded on the religious roots my parents had seeded for me as a child. I ran the Rite of Christian Initiation of Adults (RCIA) program at Our Lady Star of The Sea Catholic Parish at Ocean Grove. Like in Madison, Wisconsin, I taught adults about Catholicism and helped them become Catholic. If ever I encountered a difficult situation I would dig deep and ask God for guidance.

Barb's 65th birthday with Julie and Kevin Donovan, at Kangaroos headquarters in Arden Street, North Melbourne.

Barbara overseeing a Karingal demonstration for accommodation funding for people with intellectual disabilities in Melbourne.

Barbara supporting people with intellectual disability and their families: (top row) Barbara and the McAsey children; with the Day family at the Geelong Show; (second row) Princess Diana meeting people with intellectual disability whom Barbara had brought to the Melbourne Arts Centre to see her; Barbara and the group she had brought from Geelong to meet the Princess. Barbara asked Princess Di "How are the boys? (Prince William and Prince Harry). The Princess replied "Naughty!" (Third row) Helping with the cooking; opening of a block of accommodation units that Barbara initiated, bringing together the State Ministry of Housing, local government and the Geelong Lions Club – a great outcome; (bottom row) celebrating a birthday with Liam Rodger; enjoying some time with the Australian Prime Minister, John Howard.

Just some of the many dress-ups that Barbara loved.

## CHAPTER TEN

### A New Life:  
Friends, Family and Footy

The new year of 2000 was to be a fresh start for me. I had devoted much of my life to the causes of others. It was what I was most passionate about doing. But I had reached a stage in my life that opened me up to new possibilities. My career was coming to a close and I was set to retire from my post at Karingal at the end of 1999. I had been awarded life membership by the organization earlier in the year and felt satisfied that my work there was complete.

I was embarking on a new adventure of freedom and family time and was excited about the prospect of developing new hobbies and taking time out. Over the previous few years I had discovered a love of Australian football – AFL – and had chosen the North Melbourne Kangaroos as my team. I liked the idea of the "shinboner" spirit – determination, the underdogs, working with less but achieving great things. I guess this aspect was woven into many areas of my life.

I hadn't been interested in football at all in America because I thought it was too violent. But there was something about the agility, the skill and the common bond and sense of community among Australian football players and fans that had captured my heart. There was a sense of belonging to a team, a clan, which sung to me. I thought the world of one player in particular, the great Wayne Carey. He epitomized the shinboner spirit and despite how he was portrayed by the media at times, I could see his rough characterization was just one layer of this complex and intriguing man. He had a warm heart and after meeting him and seeing how he interacted with Sarah he became endeared to me.

Because of my work at Karingal, and having to be on-call all hours of the night, I hadn't been able to attend games in Melbourne. Now I was free to play. I joined North Melbourne Football Club as a member. I also joined the Geelong Kangaroos supporter group, the G-Roos, and met others who loved the team. I got on the committee and joined the cheer squad, never holding back at a game. I was enamored with Wayne and collected all the information I could about him. I've got suitcases full of newspaper clippings, pictures and memorabilia. I planned to write a book, with the goal of showing his caring and kind-hearted nature. The whole story, not just what the tabloids focused on. But when Wayne wrote his own, I quietly put my idea on the shelf.

The year began with great expectations. I was free to do whatever I pleased. I cleaned the house from top to bottom, clearing out all the cupboards and culling a few decades worth of accumulation. It was only a few months into the year, when I had done all the relaxing I could do. I was restless for a new challenge.

I joined the Barwon Disability Resource Council Board of Management. I've been on the board ever since.

Soon after that I was appointed as pastoral associate at St Bernard's Catholic Parish, in Belmont, after being qualified by the Archdiocese of Melbourne. Part of my role as pastoral associate was to visit older or ill people in their homes and connect with them spiritually. Other pastoral associates would read from the bible or lead a prayer and then leave, but I went about my role in a completely different way. Instead of doing communion or praying I did things like paint their nails or give them a foot rub. I wanted to provide support in down-to-earth ways that were useful and tangible and by doing this it created trust and enabled people to talk to me about all sorts of things that were important to them. In my mind that was more pastoral than offering prayer.

Later, I was appointed as the multi-faith chaplain at Deakin University, at the Waurn Ponds campus in 2003 by the Archbishop of Melbourne. I was employed by the Archdiocese, approved by the Council for Chaplains in Tertiary Institutions (CCTI) and accepted by Deakin University.

In 2005, I celebrated my 70th birthday with my family and friends at The Chocolate Room at Oakdene Winery, near Ocean Grove on the Bellarine Peninsula. Sarah had made a life-sized seven-legged papier mache cat that was on display at the venue – its extra legs giving it a sense of movement. It proudly watched over us as we ate and drank merrily. Brian and my son-in-law, VJ, lovingly made a slideshow of photos from special moments of my life. It featured friends loved and lost, including Mike Busch who sadly died of a heart attack several years earlier. I still get teary thinking about him. As the slideshow celebrated my life to date, some of my favorite songs played including a special rendition of _Somewhere Over the Rainbow_ that Mike had recorded for me. It was in that room, in the thick of reflection, and with the love of my life, Brian, at my side that I felt an enormous sense of satisfaction. I had been blessed by those around me – by my children and by their lives and loves, especially VJ, Conni, Ellen, Libby, Leigh, Jenny S, Ed, Kathy, Sheila, Deon and Jason. I have found rewards and challenges in my professional and spiritual life too. Nothing I have ever done has gone against my moral code. On paper I am supposed to be an old woman now, 80-years-old, but my eyes still light up when I see my grandchildren's faces and know that future generations will be better off because of the work we did.

I have always kept in touch with all of our grandchildren and never forget their birthdays. Our first grandchild, Allison, came to visit us in Australia after her graduation. We took her and a friend to see the sights in the Land of Oz. She climbed the Sydney Harbour Bridge. She was later followed by Rebecca and Cheyenne and then Marty and Jimmy. Our frequent visits over the years to the United States gave us the chance to catch up with Allison, Olivia, Anna and Emma. We loved the family reunions, first auditions for plays, first days at school, school sports and lots of other memorable occasions. We would visit Samuel and enjoy watching his development, especially his sporting prowess such as at Royall Middle and High School track and field meets. We still keep in touch with Elijah in Las Vegas. With Greta living at Ocean Grove we have been fortunate to have her visit and stay over nearly every weekend. Very special was the privilege of being at the birth of our first great-grandchild in Geelong. Cheyenne, our granddaughter, came to live with us and Brian and I were at the birth of Scarlett Edith. Then we have been blessed with Vivienne James, our second great-grandchild. Grandchildren and great-grandchildren are an important part of our lives.

After my 70th birthday party, I still felt like I had more to give so I completed my civil celebrants course at the Gordon TAFE and graduated in 2005. I went on to conduct marriages, funerals and naming ceremonies and still do so. I became well regarded for offering a spiritual dimension to ceremonies and am often referred to by priests who are unable to conduct a particular marriage for some reason, for example where there was some religious conflict. In this work I have enjoyed friendships I have made with other celebrants especially Donna Noakes, Don White, Sheryle Pettifer and Sally Cant. But my greatest thrill was to be marriage celebrant to my son Greg and his beautiful Linda on the Ocean Grove beach. It was a spectacular time with the sunflowers.

In 2006 it became a lot harder for Sarah and I to move around our three level home at Ocean Grove and we made the difficult decision to look for another place. It was sad to say goodbye to our piece of paradise at the coast, to neighbors Ada and Bill Foster, Pam and Brian Wilson, Norma Yeoman and Reg Wilkes, Des and Marie Harris, and Graeme Cook. We had become entrenched in the small seaside community and enjoyed beautiful views of the ever-changing seascape. When we moved to our new single-story home in Waurn Ponds I missed the gentle rhythm of the ocean and the wide starry sky at night. But after creating a lovely garden and putting new roots down, I soon became accustomed to our warm new home.

I had both of my knees replaced in 2007 and I have a bit of trouble walking now, but I can't complain, other than that my health has been wonderful. Because of my bad balance, when I marry people I sit in a big chair behind the podium. One time I led the funeral for a gang member who had committed suicide in jail. Ten men in sunglasses lined the back of the chapel. I was quite alarmed at the time but _he_ had been one of their guys and they were very respectful. One of the ten men, a well-known criminal who spoke at his funeral, was arrested not long after that and convicted for murder.

I retired from the Bethany Family Services Board of Management in 2007 and was presented with life membership for my services. I'm still involved with my chaplaincy work and Deakin University and continue to live strong in good health. Life is full of social events and volunteer work as well as maintaining strong bonds with loved ones here and around the world. All my children are successful in their own ways, which makes me very proud. Brian is still making me smile all these years down the track and seeing how deeply a part of the family he is makes me so glad I made that leap to Australia all those years ago. Some days when he brings me my peppermint tea I remember him as that warm-hearted man wearing flip-flops at church. I was a lucky woman then and I'm a grateful woman now. When I sit in my chair, looking at my collection of life's bits and pieces – photos of my children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren, _The Wizard of Oz_ memorabilia or gold football boots once worn by Wayne Carey – I realize that even though I do love to collect pretty things, it is the memories I have collected that have made my life so worth living. The people I have met and shared and grown with. There are so many of you: the partners of grandchildren – Vishal, Justin, Katelyn, Josh and now Ben, the Donovans and connections to Ireland through Ryan and Rachelle and more recently to Germany with Pete's Steph. Karingal friends like Buster and Julie Mippy, and National Seniors friends that we became so close to, Mary and Michael Yeoman. There are lots more and I am sure I have not mentioned everyone, but I'll try to do that in my next book. If you are one of them though, thank you. Deep down I feel life has been a great privilege.

(Clockwise from top left) Barbara 'barracking' for the Kangaroos; Barbara meeting her biggest footy favorite, Wayne Carey, at North Melbourne's end of year celebration. Wayne is regarded as perhaps the greatest player ever in the history of Australian football; Barbara with Parish Priest Father Peter Foley and St Bernard's staff dressed to watch the Melbourne Cup, Australia biggest horse race that "stops the nation"; Barbara is a multi-faith chaplain at Deakin University; Barbara as a civil celebrant officiating at the marriage of Greg and Linda on a hot summer's day in February, 2013, at the Ocean Grove foreshore.

Barbara's grandchildren and great-grandchildren as at February 2015: (clockwise from top left) the Guilfoils – Livvy at the back and Alli, Emma and Anna in front; Greta Grace King; Scarlett and Vivienne Jahn; Sammy Guilfoil; and the Jahns – Rebecca at the back and Cheyenne, Jimmy and Marty in front.

### Contributions by  
Family and Friends

**That Special Something** Brian Donovan

**Some Recollections** Daniel J Guilfoil (Jim)

**Fond and Fun Memories** Cassie Dahm

**Brotherly Love** John Philipps

**Unconditional Love** Tom Philipps

**Heart and Soul** Kevin and Julie Donovan

**The Golden Thread** Christopher Guilfoil

**A Full House** Tim Guilfoil

**An Enchanted Life** Pam Guilfoil

**Adventures Down Under** Greg Guilfoil

**In Stitches** Danny 'Bobo' Guilfoil

**I Love My Mom** Sarah Guilfoil

**Treasured Memories** Jean Marie Guilfoil

**My Mother, Barbara Ann** Joyce Guilfoil

**Why I Love You** Meg Guilfoil

**Special Memories** Allison, Olivia, Anna and Emma Guilfoil

**Memories** Rebecca Jahn

**Barbara** Marty Jahn

**A Poem for Grandma** Cheyenne Jahn

**Happy Birthday** James 'Jimmy' Jahn

**Good Game** Samuel Guilfoil

**Dear Grandma** Greta Grace King

**Get Ups** Joy O'Grosky

**An Inspiration** Joe Neumaier

**An Offering** Ada Foster

**Keys of Friendship** Julie Brylow

**A True Blue Kangaroo** Max Stephens

#### That Special Something

By Brian Donovan

It was a huge journey for Barb to take across the Pacific pond from Madison Wisconsin to Ocean Grove, Australia in October 1981. We had expressed our love for each other but she was doing so much more in leaving Madison and coming to what must have seemed like another world. It was an even greater journey and adventure that she was launching into when she arrived. The love between us grew into commitment and sharing with the family that came to include me. It also proved to be a boon to Aussies right across the country who were influenced and embraced by her. Many of these and their 'battler' families were among the most vulnerable in our communities.

My father, my brother and his wife Julie and family, and neighbors in Ocean Grove were first to meet Barb. Dad immediately convinced her that she must 'barrack' for the Shinboners (also called Kangaroos and North Melbourne Football Club). He would have been proud that she later became a committee member for the G-Roos (Kangaroo supporters in Geelong), a member of the cheer squad and a prolific letter writer – on anything football – to the Geelong Advertiser.

I introduced her early on to Father Bob Maguire in South Melbourne. Bob was a challenger of Federal, State and City pollies (politicians) on behalf of people 'doing it tough', especially street kids. He challenged the Catholic Church bureaucracy just as much. Bob recognized Barb's special qualities and in no time she was in charge of his literacy program, even following the street kids around to Friday night 'pub' fights and then relating their boxing to her literacy program.

I am enormously proud of Barb's work and influence in improving opportunities for people with intellectual disability and their families. In 1999, she was awarded Life Membership at Karingal in recognition of her work and its impact in Geelong and across Australia. She was also awarded Life Membership at Bethany Family Services and VALID (Victorian Advocacy League for Individuals with Disability). She won a Churchill Fellowship in 1991 to the Waisman Centre in Madison, Wisconsin to develop pre-retirement planning for people with intellectual disability. She took these developments across Australia in publications and lectures. At the time she was also President of the peak Australian advocacy body, the National Council on Intellectual Disability, based in Canberra. In August 2014, Barb was recognized at VALID's celebration of its 25th Annual General Meeting. The citation read: _"One of VALID's earliest campaigns was driven by founding member Barbara Donovan who was concerned for people with disability living with ageing carers. It led to a major statewide and national campaign targeting Federal and State Governments on the issue of Unmet Need. Many campaigns have followed."_

In 2003, Barb became a multi-faith chaplain at Deakin University, Geelong, a position paid by the Catholic Archdiocese of Melbourne. At one time she was asked by a couple to marry them. They were Catholics but did not want to be married by a priest. Barb was not able to do the wedding as she was not accredited as a marriage celebrant with the Australian Attorney General. So she asked the Archbishop if he would pay for her to do the course to become accredited. He felt uncomfortable being seen to support her in this role. Encouraged by Parish priest, Father Peter Foley, Barb went ahead, paid for the course herself and became an official civil celebrant, conducting naming ceremonies, funerals, renewal of vows as well as marriages. One Sunday at Mass, Father Foley asked her to come up to the altar. He said to the congregation, "If you know anyone who has trouble with the church or a priest but wants a 'Catholic' wedding, here is your person. You could not do better than Barbara." She has married many couples aged from their teens to their seventies at the University Chapel, around our dining room table, on beaches, cliff-tops, even in a rainforest with a kookaburra sitting above her on an old gum tree.

Ever young, Barbara continues as Deakin University's multi-faith chaplain in Geelong, as a civil celebrant, a board member for the Barwon Disability Resource Council and a passionate Shinboner. But above all, she is the proudest mom, grandma and great-grandma.

_Brian, aged 76, is Barbara's second husband._

#### Some Recollections

By Daniel J Guilfoil (Jim)

Over the years that Barbara and I lived together and enjoyed the Roman Catholic culture that formed our consciences, many significant persons stand out as formative in that journey.

In the 1950s I met a student, Pierre Aldin, who shared my enthusiasm for Fr. McCallin's history lectures and who loved playing classical violin music on his harmonica. He was also the neighbor of the Philipps family whose daughter Barbara he thought I would find desirable.

Martin and Edith, Barbara's parents were deeply committed to their parish and considered me an acceptably catholic boy for their daughter's future.

After our marriage we moved to Germany for a year of study at the University of Munich and where our first son, Christopher, was born in a Clinic for Women, which was directed by Dr. Mohr with the care given by midwives. When we asked for circumcision the midwives asked why we wanted to make the little one suffer, and Dr. Mohr said, "But you are not Jews". A mohel was hired to make the ceremonial bris or schnitt. This was the start of many interests that were to give direction to our lives.

We lived in Milwaukee where I was pursuing graduate studies and Barbara met Ruth Newell, a leader in the Natural Childbirth and Lamaze breastfeeding movements. Barbara worked with Ruth to admit parents into the delivery room for the childbirth, objected to by many OB/GYNS at the time, calling childbirth "a pathology of nine months duration".

In Madison, where I took a job teaching at Edgewood College, Barbara was active in many causes, marched in anti-Vietnam protests, developed a response to Vatican II by joining in the Community of John XXIII, brought needy young women into our home, and developed an art form of posters extolling the virtues of peace and justice. She sold her most popular one at the Art Fair on The Square, a reproduction of the Women's International League of Peace and Freedom, "War is not friendly to children and other living things".

Most significantly, Sarah was born to us and was given a dire prognosis by physicians. Luckily Mariam Yaeger, a Dominican sister at Edgewood had studied the Doman Delacato method of treating conditions such as Sarah's, a technique of creeping and crawling administered by four persons, one at each limb. The sisters and neighbors came in several times each day to help and Sarah responded beyond all expectations. Barbara was active with the Madison Retardation Council to help others with similar afflictions. Sarah developed into an internationally known artist, uses Skype on her laptop or iPad, and is proof of how loving attention can overcome the most serious orthodoxies of popular opinion.

Through all of this Barbara expanded her interest in parish Catholicism by doing graduate work in pastoral work and has served for many years in the church.

Thank you Barbara!

_Jim, aged 82, was Barbara's first husband and father to their nine children. He died on January 8, 2015._

#### Fond and Fun Memories

By Cassie Dahm

A few years back I was able to travel to Australia to see my sister Barb. It was such a wonderful and fun experience. We got to spend a lot of quality time together which I hardly got to do because of our age difference. She is the best host, best cook. Always smiling. Never sees the bad in anyone. We traveled all over Ocean Grove, Melbourne and had a beautiful boat ride. We watched her favorite soap opera (Bold and the Beautiful) and her football team (she's a crazy fan).

I loved her house, full of family photographs and of course "The Wizard of Oz Room".

One time, my family and Barbara's family went to visit our sister Alice in Manhattan, Kansas. We were always playing games and singing. Barb is known for her singing. Barb would walk around with hangers to see if there were any spirits around. And of course the hangers would move which means there were spirits around. So one night we decided to get the ouija board out as my sisters and I have done this before. Barb, Alice and I put our fingers on the piece that is supposed to move. Sure enough it started moving all over the place stopping at letters spelling out something. Barb was yelling "quit moving it", Alice and I responded, "We are not touching it", "I swear we are not touching it". Everyone was screaming and laughing. We had done this once before at a family reunion and it ended up spelling out our Great, Great, Grandma's name. We asked our Dad if the name meant anything and he told us who it was. We were all freaked out! We figured she must have been visiting us at the reunion. When the three of us got together I guess we could summon the spirits.

Barbara is a beautiful and wonderful person inside and out. I am so proud and lucky to have her as my sister.

_Cassie Dahm, aged 68, is Barbara's sister. She is married to GB and lives in McKinney, Texas. They have three children: Jennifer, Jeff and Julie._

#### Brotherly Love

By John Philipps

Remember, I am the one you and your sister Alice had to babysit all the time. One time you took me to the show to see a funny movie called _Abbot and Costello Meet Frankenstein_. I think I was four or five-years-old and had never seen a scary movie. Well, all I remember was seeing this monster chasing two people around some old house and I started crying. In fact, you and Alice had to take me out of the show and home.

When we lived on 73rd Street I was in first grade and you were at Hogan High School. Whenever Mom and Dad went out, you and Alice had to watch me and baby Cassie. As soon as Mom and Dad left, the boyfriends would show up and the lights would go out. Me and Cassie would sneak down the stairs and hide behind the couch. Mom told us to count how many times the boys would kiss you and she would give us five cents for each one. I remember one time Mom and Dad came home a little early and one boy could not get out and jumped into the hall closet. When Dad went to hang up his coat he opened the door and the boy said, "Good evening Mr Philipps". That was a really funny one.

By the time I got out of grade school you and Alice were starting your lives.

Well, that is all. Love you Barbara.

Happy birthday sister, from your brother John.

_John Philipps, aged 73 years, is a brother of Barbara's. He followed in their father's footsteps and spent many years working for Union Pacific Railroad. He lives in West Covina, California._

#### Unconditional Love

By Tom Philipps

When thinking about my sister Barbara, what stands out most for me is her boundless positive energy. Encouraging self-expression and contributing to community, Barbara always leans forward, reaching for the impossible.

Being 19-years older than me, my first memories of Barbara were visiting her in faraway Wisconsin. A house filled with the commotion of children and what seemed like chaos to me; it was easy for me to realize I was encouraged to be myself and accept what is – to invite that opportunity into my life, stay positive, be grateful and share yourself with others.

Always challenging the status quo, I have many fond memories of times with Barbara; from silly skinny-dipping at night in the lake, sharing in the girls' weekend in Chicago, watching a football game in Tasmania, to seriously petitioning the government to change its ways. The experiences have all been filled with love and joy.

Barbara's authenticity and giving of herself has brought me much joy and love into my life. I count myself lucky to have her as my sister.

All the best, your brother Tom

_Tom Philipps, aged 61, is Barbara's brother. He is the youngest of Barbara's siblings and lives in San Francisco, California._

#### Heart and Soul

By Kevin and Julie Donovan

When Brian left Australia in June 1980 to study in the United States it was not long after the death of his mother and we felt this was a great opportunity for him and a great challenge. It was not long after his return to Australia that Barbara followed in his footsteps.

Barbara soon grew to love Ocean Grove and it wasn't long before on a lovely May afternoon in 1982 wedding bells tolled at St Peter and Paul's Church in South Melbourne. Very soon Brian, Barbara and her beautiful girls were a firmly entrenched family unit.

When we first met Barbara we were astounded at her resemblance to Brian's mother, Mary. Her mannerisms, her thought processes, even her walk were so similar to Mary's it was uncanny.

For many years during the time at Ocean Grove Barbara had a Saturday morning ritual. Norma would arrive in her car and they would go "saling". Not "sailing" as others who lived in a beachside town may do, but garage saling. Barbara was a keen collector of everything and loved a bargain. Every time we went to Ocean Grove she had something that was "just right for you – and it was only 20 cents".

Her collection of _The Wizard of Oz_ memorabilia was unbelievable and is testament to her great love of this movie, Judy Garland and Kansas.

Her teddy bear collection was also a sight to behold and nearly had the house bursting at its seams, and then there was the North Melbourne Football Club addiction.

Everything and anything North could be found at the house in Ocean Grove, especially if it related to Wayne Carey.

Barbara's greatest contribution was to the disabled community of Geelong. Barbara was on the staff at Karingal and gave her heart and soul to the place. She was always available no matter what time of the day or night she was required. She was a dedicated and passionate worker. Then, when Brian joined the staff they were a formidable team.

Barbara obtained a Churchill Scholarship to study the problems faced by ageing parents of people with disabilities and then lectured around Australia on this subject. This contribution alone is very significant.

Barbara, we wish you every happiness in your eighties and hope you continue to contribute and enjoy the parish life, the university life and of course your ever-increasing and extensive family life.

_Kevin, aged 74, and Julie, aged 71, are Barbara's brother-in-law and sister-in-law. They live in Howlong, New South Wales, Australia. Their children are Kathryn, Joanne and Peter._

#### The Golden Thread

By Christopher James Guilfoil

In life there is a golden thread you follow. It may not have a beginning or ending, but if you are lucky you never let go of that thread. When one attempts to find that filament, especially when you have lost it, a feeling of gratitude may arise around an event that sits on said string. This gratitude is the source of what keeps the thread unfolding. Terse may be this tale, but no less is the import. It set a tone that still reverberates.

It was in 2nd grade, the boy was close to eight-years-old; the milk teeth had recently let go. He was aglow with what, if discovered, could light up the face with a flush that destroys or a door that opens Romanticism. He had recently written his first love letter. The shorthaired girl who lived in the white house on the way home from school was its intention. He folded it and hid it under his pillow, only to dream.

A fright of sweat ensued one day after school when the pillow was turned and it was not there. Into his room his mother arrived with the epistle of affection. All vulnerability's woes awaited. His heart stopped cold. "It is beautiful, you should give it to her," she gently encouraged. The thread was painted a bit more gold. The creative life guaranteed. Schiller, Novalis and Goethe would follow in her footsteps.

_Chris, aged 58, is the eldest child of Barbara and Jim. He was born in Munich, Germany._

#### A Full House

By Tim Guilfoil

We had this little house at 1812 Keyes Avenue in Madison, Wisconsin. The four boys, Chris, Greg, Danny (Bobo) and I had one bedroom with two sets of bunk beds. I think the girls – Pam, Sarah, Jean, Joyce and Meg – all had one of the other rooms. Mom and Dad had their room and there was only one bathroom. I think that most would think that this is probably a pretty full house.

But no! Mom – with her affiliation with the Catholic social services – decided we could use a few more people in the house and it seemed that we always had someone staying with us. We all remember Jean Thomas who was a young woman that was getting out of trouble with the law. We had Bon and Tao from Vietnam with us for a good spell, a guy named Dennis, another guy named Greg, there was Karen and Cheryl, I think they were pregnant girls that could not live at home. There was also Renee the Elvis impersonator and Zelda the Indian girl with head lice. And then let's not forget about everyone's friends and the fact there were about 30 kids on our block.

Anyway, Mom just could not get enough of being there for people and us. She just wasn't happy unless she had more than enough people to take care of. And she did. And we all love her for it!

_Tim, aged 57, is the second child of Barbara and Jim. He was born in Kansas City, Missouri._

#### An Enchanted Life

By Pamela Guilfoil

My mother, or Barb, as I called her from a very young age, always flavored our childhood with that dreamy, over the rainbow, true Pisces personality of hers. She made the annual television broadcast of _The Wizard Of Oz_ a truly religious experience, setting the stage with pillows and blankets on the floor in front of the TV, making popcorn, and had all of us thinking we were about to be transcended to the fifth dimension. We were never disappointed. All nine of us grew up loving that movie.

Another favorite pastime of Barb's was her love of decoration. Christmas, Easter, Halloween, Valentine's Day. Barb loves to decorate. Walking home from school several weeks before a pending holiday, we sure knew what was coming up when we rounded the corner to our house.

Barb loves to decorate herself as well, one Halloween she was the scariest witch I had ever seen in person, green face with a hairy mole included. She had the kids in our neighborhood convinced.

Australia is home to Barb now, after 30 plus years of wedded bliss to her Aussie man, Brian Donovan. Together they have created a wonderful union and are nothing short of the best example of pure love and acceptance of all people great and small. I am forever in awe of Barb and with Brian at her side, of their ability to accept, support, and defend all people, no matter what the circumstances. When I reflect back on my thoughts of Barb, the most powerful one is of her will. Barb has created her life out of sheer willpower. She has managed to capture all the characters from _The Wizard Of Oz_ and made them all a part of her. She has Dorothy's longing for something more over that rainbow, she is willing to seek out that dream but also knows that it's about the people you love and keeping them close. The Scarecrow's brain, the Lion's courage and the Tin Man's heart – she has encompassed them all.

Wishing my mother, Barb, a truly wonderful 80th birthday. I love you dearly. From your eldest daughter, Pamela Sue xxoo

_Pam, aged 55, is the third child of Barbara and Jim. She was born in Milwaukee, Wisconsin._

#### Adventures Down Under

By Greg Guilfoil

The year is 1985 and I have recently graduated from UW – Madison. I've been working at the Yellow Jersey on State Street, Madison, and as yet I have been unable to secure a "career" job in my field.

I decide it's time to travel and see what's up with the other half of the family Down Under. At this time all the Guilfoil men live in the USA and all of the women live in Oz. So, I cashed in my Lord Abbett Developing Growth Fund, set up by Grandpa Dan, and purchased an open-ended round-trip ticket on Air New Zealand that allowed me to hopscotch my way Down Under and back, stopping and starting as I pleased.

I secured my six-month tourist visa, packed up a bag, my bike and started making my way.

At this stage, Barbara has no idea I'm coming. In fact, no one knows of my plans. I stopped in L.A. for a few days to visit an old high school friend. I spent a few days in Hawaii. Bought a pair of flip-flops and some swim trunks. Missed my flight to Fiji. Caught a flight to Auckland, New Zealand and spent a week touring around the North Island with a girl from Canada.

Finally, I arrived at Tullamarine Airport in Melbourne, rented a little blue car and headed down to Ocean Grove. I was okay driving on the "wrong" side of the road as I'd had some practice in New Zealand. It took me a little while to actually find 35 The Esplanade and I pulled into the driveway. Mom was at the side of the house on the patio watering the garden as I approached her. She turned and looked at me in sheer disbelief and started calling to Brian. "Brian...Brian!" She says that she thought she had died, gone to heaven and her children were finally coming to visit her. I spent a wonderful six-months in Australia.

Brian drove me to the train station in Melbourne. He told me this is where General MacArthur declared, "I came through and I shall return". I caught the train to Sydney to connect with my flight back to L.A. I departed Sydney the day my visa expired. I have since returned a couple times now and on my last trip Mom performed my wedding ceremony to Linda on the beach in Ocean Grove, but that's another story. Happy 80th Mom, good on ya!

_Greg, aged 54, is the fourth child of Barbara and Jim. He was born in Milwaukee, Wisconsin._

#### In Stitches

By Danny 'Bobo' Guilfoil

I have many standout memories from Adele to Zelda, literally – each letter in the alphabet holds great memories. One in particular involves the letter 's' for stitches.

I was nearing ten-years-old in the summer of 1972 and was playing in the backyard when I cut my hand on a sharp branch. I ran into the house screaming, and found my mom deep into meditation. She was with Justin O'Brien, and he was teaching her relaxation, meditation and hypnosis.

It took a bit of convincing but once they saw the blood they jumped to their feet and started helping me. All attention turned to me and the gash in my hand. Mom took charge, got me cleaned up and took me to St Mary's to get stitched up.

I remember sitting waiting in the Emergency Room with Mom feeling safe, warm and loved. Individual attention was a rare commodity growing up in a family of nine. This was a time when Mom was all mine.

Things got even better later that day when I got to drive up to Baraboo with Mom, Lorraine Wilke and Rita Wlodarcek for dinner at the Town Pump. Rita drove her station wagon and I got to sit in the back seat with my mom. It was a beautiful summer evening and a beautiful memory with my mother.

_Bobo, aged 52, is the fifth child of Barbara and Jim. He was born in Milwaukee, Wisconsin._

#### I Love My Mom

By Sarah Guilfoil

I love my Mom because:

She gave me cuddles in the morning

She always remembers my birthdays

She makes parties for me

She takes me shopping

I love my Mom very much.

I remember my 21st birthday. Mom threw me a big party at Mollers Lane, Leopold, Australia. Mom and Dad took me out to a restaurant.

Mom and my favorite football team is North Melbourne Kangaroos. Our favorite player was Wayne Carey. We have his footy boots at home. When I was sick he came to visit me in the hospital.

I love shopping with Mom. We have shopped in lots of places like Geelong, Melbourne, Sydney and Hobart in Australia and Los Angeles, San Francisco, Chicago, New York in America and London, Limerick and Dublin and lots more.

Mom loves dressing up. Last Halloween Mom was dressed as a fortune-teller. Dad was dressed as a monk. I was dressed as a witch – a scary one from Oz.

_Sarah, aged 51, is the sixth child of Barbara and Jim. She was born in Milwaukee, Wisconsin._

#### Treasured Memories

By Jean Marie Guilfoil

Some treasured memories of Babs are:

\- Roaming the empty church at St Paul's in Madison where she would take us to her office and we would look at all the altar trinkets.

\- Secretly driving her car around the parking lot at Blessed Sacrament when she was in meetings.

\- Always finding loose coins and Snickers bars in her purse.

\- Getting paid $1 to rub her feet.

\- Going to the local beauty school with Babs for pixie haircuts.

\- Taking trips to Ovens of Brittany for cookies and cinnamon buns.

\- An endless parade of interesting friends that would visit our house, such as Adele Agrawol, Vange, Mike Bush and his boyfriend.

\- Visiting her friend Joy's house and wishing I lived there because it was always super clean and beautiful.

_Jean Marie, aged 46, is the seventh child of Barbara and Jim. She was born in Stoughton, Wisconsin._

#### My Mother, Barbara Ann

By Joyce Ann Guilfoil

There are many fond memories I hold dearly to me of my mother. My most favorite is that we share the same middle name, Ann. I also passed this middle name on to my precious little Raina Ann. This has always made me feel very special and close to my mom.

As a young girl I can remember all the fun we had, whether it be all the singing around the house as my mom liked to sing at the top of her lungs. Going to the grocery store. Shopping at Prange Way or Treasure Island where she took me to get my ears pierced for my 9th birthday.

Whenever I wasn't feeling well she would always comfort me in her arms and bring me 7up on the couch. I especially liked it when she worked at St Paul's downtown. My sisters and I would go with her a lot and hang out and explore. She had a pretty cool office and we would get to go to McDonalds a lot.

I could go on and on, but I really want to say how cool and fun Mom is. She always made sure we all had a good time. I believe this is where my sisters, brothers and I get a lot of our similar qualities. We all love to laugh and enjoy the people around us.

So thank you Mommy from the bottom of my heart for being such a wonderful and loving mom. In your arms is the safest place I have ever been.

I love you,

Joyce Ann xoxo

_Joyce, aged 45, is the eighth child of Barbara and Jim. She was born in Stoughton, Wisconsin._

#### Why I Love You

By Meg Guifoil

I love how you have always been there for me in times of need. How you stood up for me, stood by me and sometimes picked up the pieces when I needed you to. There have been some rough patches in our journey so far and you never judged me or made me feel unloved.

I love how you are always able to fill our homes with magic, love and loads of stuff! Every single wall space, corner nook and cranny is filled with memories and meaning.

I love how you are so passionate about life and everything you do. I love and admire how you followed your heart all the way to Australia because life offered you a second chance at happiness. I know that would have been one of the hardest decisions of your life and I am so proud of you for making it.

I love how you are passionate about social justice and helping others. For you it's not trendy or even the right thing to do it's just in your blood. You don't know any different. No matter who they are, family, friend or foe you will always go to bat, defend or just stick up for someone because you see the good.

Growing up in Madison our home was always shared with those in need such as unwed mothers and migrants despite having a full house of nine kids and two parents already. You have fought tooth and nail for our beloved sister Sarah and for the rights for people with disabilities.

I love how you remember to send a birthday card to every child, grandchild, great grandchild, their husbands and wives and their previous partners and their parents and so on. This is legendary. These cards would number in the near hundreds each year and you have never missed one.

I love how you have been there for me for the birth of my one and only, our little girl Greta Grace. You are always there for Greta and I with open arms. Greta adores you and I couldn't wish for a better goofy Grandma for her.

I love your natural beauty. I love your warm and wonderful big blue eyes that always make me feel like everything is going to be okay. I love your big beautiful smile and your laugh that can fill a room and beyond. I love looking at old pictures of you from when you were a little girl in Kansas City. I like to imagine what it would have been like to be you back then. You have this old school movie star quality about you even now. This magical, dreamy air that invites you in and a warm comforting heart that makes you want to stay there. Never change.

Happy 80th Birthday Mom!

Loving you,

Margaret Cecilia Guilfoil (Meg)

_Meg, aged 43, is the youngest of the nine children of Barbara and Jim. She was born in Stoughton, Wisconsin._

#### Special Memories

By Allison, Olivia, Anna and Emma Guilfoil

Living on the other side of the globe from Grandma for our entire lives, we've realized, as we've reflected together, that our memories with Grandma are fewer in number than we'd like.

Alli, being the eldest grandchild and the only one of us to travel to Australia, has had many more hours with Grandma, and therefore many more memories. She is so grateful for that trip to Australia, and the experiences offered to her by Grandma, Brian and Sarah. After years of hearing about the "Land of Oz", Alli got to see it for herself – including the indoor pool at the Ocean Grove house, avocado trees, beautiful beaches, Aussie rules football, kangaroos and koalas. Alli got to see Melbourne, Canberra and Sydney, ate Meat Pies, tried surfing, and even climbed the Sydney Harbor Bridge!

The bulk of our collective memories with Grandma are from her visits to Wisconsin. Some of these are also unique and extra special, as they included new and exciting experiences for us – sometimes traveling outside of Madison. Some particularly memorable trips were those to the Wisconsin Dells, where we splashed in the water, rode rollercoasters, roamed around the shops, and rode the Original Wisconsin Ducks – those boats that travel both on land and water. Most of our time together, though, was spent doing normal stuff... stuff that families do. Although many of these things may have seemed mundane at the time, we are certainly grateful for each moment of our limited time spent together over the years.

We shared holiday, wedding, and birthday celebrations, and we exchanged gifts. We sat around in living rooms or on patios and just hung out. We ate delicious food together. We laughed whenever Grandma talked about McDonald's – calling it "Macca's". We went to Pasqual's so many times but we still can't get enough. We ran errands and went shopping at St Vincent's and toy stores. Livvy especially remembers a trip to K.B. Toys when Grandma bought her a little toy dog. It was black and white, and it barked and walked on a leash. Livvy absolutely loved that thing. We met Grandma's friends, and she met ours. We heard Grandma sing a lot, especially _Somewhere Over the Rainbow_. And sometimes we sang along with her.

The Wizard told the Tin Man, "A heart is not judged by how much you love, but by how much you are loved by others". Our Grandma is most certainly loved by us. In honor of her 80th birthday, we send our love all the way to the other side of the world to our Grandma Donovan. Thanks for the memories. We look forward to making many more memories together in the years to come. Happy Birthday!

Love Allison, Olivia, Anna and Emma

_Allison, aged 30, is the eldest child of Danny and Conni Guilfoil and is Barbara's first grandchild. Allison was born in Madison, Wisconsin. Her sisters are Olivia (Livvy), Anna and Emma. Livvy, aged 27, is Barbara's second grandchild, Anna, aged 24, is Barbara's third grandchild and Emma, aged 20, is Barbara's seventh grandchild. All were also born in Madison, Wisconsin._

#### Memories

By Rebecca Jahn

When I think of my grandma lots of things come to mind. I remember the grandma of my childhood who'd host family gatherings at the home on The Esplanade, Ocean Grove. The house and its surrounds were a playground for my siblings and I. It was where some of my happiest childhood memories were born. I can remember exploring the sandy trail from Grandma's backyard to the beach. I remember hunting for Easter eggs with my brothers and sister amongst the elaborate garden that surrounded the house. Each of us would carry our own color-coated Easter basket. I also remember the Christmas morning sprint up the wooden staircase in order to claim our Christmas loot under the tree. And I cannot forget how clever I thought I was sneaking around the house and discovering Grandma's secret candy stash.

Years pass and now I can remember Grandma's long-distance phone calls while I lived at 4818 Bayfield. Her soothing voice would always make me feel content and comforted. I'd explain to her in my nine or ten-year-old voice every little thing that happened that day. Everything from what Mom was preparing for dinner to how much snow shoveling we had done. I'd always look forward to her next planned visit from Australia to the US.

Roughly ten years go by. This is the time when I introduced my first love to Grandma over a lunch at The Dunes Café, Ocean Grove. It was an overcast winter's day and Vishal and I pulled into the parking lot in Grandma's prized 1980 Volvo. "What should I say?" Vishal asked as we were sitting in the car. I reassured him to "Say whatever comes natural." An overly nervous Vishal and I entered the café and proceeded to the table where Grandma and Brian were seated. Handshakes were immediately exchanged as I introduced Vishal for the first time. We talked about a range of subjects including Vishal's connection to India. I remember how Grandma and Brian listened so intently, asking many thoughtful questions. I remember looking out at the beach and the Barwon Heads bluff through the café window as Vishal continued to express himself to Grandma and Brian. I had a feeling of relief that they had welcomed so politely a person so special to me.

I'm thankful to have such a wonderful grandma who accepts everything that happens in my life and so graciously supports me whenever needed. Somehow she always knows the right thing to say no matter the situation. I look up to her and am inspired at how much she's accomplished.

Happy Birthday Grandma!

_Rebecca, aged 24, is the first child of Pam Guilfoil and Leigh Jahn and is Barbara's fourth grandchild. Rebecca was born in Geelong, Australia._

#### Barbara

By Marty Jahn

Happy 80th Birthday Grandma! Even though we're separated by thousands of miles of ocean, you've always been there for me. I hope this birthday is one to remember and I would like to contribute with this acrostic poem.

**B** est grandma on earth

**A** ustralia is where she calls home

**R** eally knows what a home-cooked meal is all about

**B** rian lucked out

**A** lways caring for her family

**R** eady for anything life has to offer

**A** n amazing person inside and out

Hope you enjoyed it as much as I did making it!

Love you,

Marty

_Marty, aged 22, is the second child of Pam Guilfoil and Leigh Jahn and is Barbara's fifth grandchild. Marty was born in Madison, Wisconsin._

#### A Poem for Grandma

By Cheyenne Jahn

Tickles down my little legs

Watching _The Wizard of Oz_ at dusk

Memories of a salty breeze

A love that could combust

Wishing I could go to her

When mother and I would fight

The grass was always greener

When Grandma shined her light

When I think two children is a handful

There is no other novice

So fierce, so strong, so tender

She is the mother goddess

A lily of the valley

Thriving in the heat

In sandy ocean soil

Her fragrant bells so sweet

Without her I would not exist

Her breathe of life so magical

Infinite love and memories to reminisce

Her legacy is intangible

_Cheyenne, aged 21, is the third child of Pam Guilfoil and Leigh Jahn and is Barbara's sixth grandchild. Cheyenne was born in Geelong, Australia._

#### Happy Birthday

By James 'Jimmy' Jahn

You never let me go without a hug and a kiss, that's one thing I've come to learn. Thinking back to time spent at the old house at 35 The Esplanade, your collections caught my eyes and resulted in countless minutes filled with wonder. Admittedly, I'd get a bit of a thrill from your concern as I mounted the balcony railing to spy on swimmers in the surf. I think I'll never forget the time your neighbor accused Marty and I of throwing stones and you told us not to worry and made it clear that she was a "crazy-person". At school there was no doubt of my reputation as the Australian, sporting a Kangaroos scarf and embarking on woodshop projects that featured North Melbourne insignia. Before I knew the rules of Australian football I knew that I was die-hard supporter of the blue and white jersey, something you never let me forget. These are just a few of my memories that confirm your place as the best Grandmother I could ask for. I love you, and happy birthday.

_Jimmy, aged 19, is fourth child of Pam Guilfoil and Leigh Jahn was Barbara's eighth grandchild. Jimmy was born in Geelong, Australia._

#### Good Game

By Samuel Guilfoil

I have had a few great and memorable times with my grandma. The first was when I was seven-years-old. I remember knowing that it was cool because I was turning seven and Grandma was 70 that year. I don't know who thought of it, but I decided to challenge my grandma to a game of checkers, which was my favorite board game at the time. It was going back and forth and was a tied game until all of a sudden, out of nowhere I triple jumped Grandma and took three of her pieces. I ended up winning the game. I was very proud of myself and felt like I could become champion of the world if I tried hard enough. Grandma just smiled and said, "Good game".

The next year Grandma came to visit again and took my cousins and I to Mt Olympus theme park. I had an absolute blast and rode on rollercoasters for the first time. We went to a restaurant and had mini cheeseburgers or sliders, which I loved. I ate seven of them. I remember my mom and I sitting by Grandma and talking to her about Kansas City, where she grew up. I remember her telling the story about the storms in Kansas, and how her and her family would huddle in a certain corner in their house under a mattress to keep safe during the storm. I was terrified of storms and couldn't imagine how scary that would be. I had a great time that year during her visit. It was hard leaving, because tears would come to her eyes when it was time to part.

Again, she and Grandpa, Aunt Sarah, Aunt Meg and Greta came to visit the year I was in 4th grade. We took a stroll through my hometown of Elroy, Wisconsin, and Grandma admired the hills and ridges. Later we went back to the condominium in Madison and stayed overnight. When it was time to go to bed, Grandma put a chair in front of the door, so that it would not open to an outsider. I remember thinking it was a very good idea. The next morning we had breakfast at Pasqual's restaurant.

I was in 7th grade the last time Grandma, Grandpa, and Aunt Sarah visited Wisconsin. They came to my middle school track meet and watched me run and throw the discus. I came up to where my grandma was sitting, and introduced her to one of my best friends. She congratulated us on our efforts and told my friend it was nice to meet him. After the meet we went out to Pizza Hut for supper and talked about how our lives were going. We went to Jimmy's house in Madison and I played my saxophone for Grandma. I also remember having a conversation with my grandpa about the rules of Australian football.

My grandma has always remembered me on Christmas and my birthday and special occasions my whole life, and I thank her very much for that.

I cherish all of these memories and hope to have many more to come.

_Samuel, aged 16, is the child of Tim Guilfoil and Sheila Harris. He is Barbara's ninth grandchild. He lives in Elroy, Wisconsin._

#### Dear Grandma

By Greta Grace King

I love to play knock-knock jokes with you. You are so funny and we can do it a really long time. I like to make funny faces with you and try to see who can be more scary. I like to make loom bands with you. You made me a bracelet with a bee charm on it. It's my favorite. I like it how you took me to the footy. My first ever AFL game and the Kangaroos played the Bull Dogs and the Kangaroos won.

I love it how you make a lot of noise at the footy. You are funny Grandma and I love you.

Love

Greta

_Greta, aged 6, is the daughter of Meg Guilfoil and Jason King and was Barbara's 10_ _th_ _grandchild. Greta was born in Geelong, Victoria_

#### Get Ups

By Joy O'Grosky

My first impression of Barb was related to her hair decor, which consisted of a stainless steel scrubby complete with a fake bird or in other words she had a shiny nest in her hair. I chose to think that the hair decoration was meant to detract from the fresh garden mud on the knees of her bib overalls. This is what she wore to mass and needless to say, I was horrified. My reaction to that "get up" later led to me apologizing on bended knee. It was the start of a lifelong friendship.

Another memorable garb still makes me laugh. A group of us were going to a Chinese restaurant for dinner. When we pulled up to her house, Barb appeared dressed as a geisha girl complete with chopsticks in the bun of a black wig. I wish that I had known about Depends back then because Barb frequently made me laugh so hard that I peed my pants. Such was the case that night!

My favorite "get up" memory arises out of a visit to her brother Tommy's apartment in Chicago. During the afternoon, Barb and I bought bargain bedding decorated with an Egyptian design. Barb decided that we should wear them toga-style. The pillowcases were used as turbans. I still can't believe that we actually wore that "get up" out on the town that night and I really can't fathom that Tommy went with us. Both of them acted like this was normal behavior!

Anyone who knows Barb knows that she hates _The Wizard of Oz_ movie. Despite her hatred, she fancied herself as Glinda, the good witch, and often dressed as Glinda when she watched the movie. While dressed as an angel witch, she and our friend Michael would tell me that they were going to sing _The Wicked Witch is Dead_ at my funeral.

Every occasion was cause for a "get up", whether it was the Academy Awards or Halloween on State Street in Madison. We even played Crazy Eights while dressed in costumes. Barb was always a nun or a priest. How odd for a mother of nine.

Barb was very involved in the theater, which allowed her to wear many different costumes. I vividly remember that Barb once played a snake in alternative theater. She practiced her role frequently. One night we were in the lobby of the ritzy Edgewater Hotel, when she fell to the floor to act out her snake role. There she was sticking out her tongue and writhing around. You could have heard a pin drop! The marvel of her was that she never felt embarrassed about doing such a thing. She just lived and loved the moment. I loved it because it was so unlike me.

One thing I remember without reservation is that those seven years together were some of the best of my life. Thanks Barb for many magical years of laughter.

Happy 80th Birthday

With much love always, Joy

_Joy O'Grosky is Barbara's close friend whom she met in Madison, Wisconsin. Joy now lives in Las Cruces, New Mexico._

#### An Inspiration

By Joe Neumaier

I first met Barbara when we were students at Edgewood College. I was new to Edgewood and Barbara came up to me and introduced herself. I did not know anyone at Edgewood and she made me feel immediately at home.

Later, I was hired as the cook for the priests at Blessed Sacrament Parish where Barbara was a member. She had quite a large family and was a terrific mother, attending all their extra curricular activities and was so encouraging and loving.

Through Barbara I met Joy O'Grosky who also was a member of Blessed Sacrament. The three of us had such a wonderful time together. They would come to the Blessed Sacrament Rectory where I lived and would offer to sample the desserts I made for the priests.

We played cards together and the winner of the card game that night was awarded a crown and banner and was declared the Crazy Eight Queen for the evening.

Barbara also was interested in tap dancing at the time and would often entertain us with her new choreography.

Often we would go to the Edgewater Hotel piano bar and had a blast singing songs, laughing and often thinking that we had the talents of any great opera star or maestro. Barbara's favorite song was _Somewhere Over The Rainbow_ , and she sang it all the time.

I have always been a huge fan of the Miss America Pageant and I am currently the executive director of the Miss Madison-Capital City Scholarship Pageant. Decades ago Barbara suggested that we dress up and watch the pageant on television and then go out in Madison to show everyone our fine attire. Barbara was stunning and we had a great evening.

Barbara has always been so supportive of me and when my partner Ron and I decided to have a commitment ceremony, Barbara and Brian were there and stayed for the whole day of festivities, dancing late into the evening.

I am so thankful, happy and proud to have been able to spend such wonderful quality time with Barbara and call her my friend. She has this uncanny ability to make you feel as though you are the most important person in the room. She has taught me to believe in myself and be proud of who I am and helped me to understand that I am one of God's most special creations.

The most important and valuable lesson in my life that I have learned from her is not to take yourself so seriously and to enjoy life to the fullest and not to ever stand back and let life pass you by.

Happy Birthday Barbara and thank you for everything, you are an inspiration to me.

All my love,

Joe Neumaier

_Joe Neumaier met Barbara when they were both students at Edgewood College, Madison, Wisconsin in the 1970s. They have been friends since._

#### An Offering

By Ada Foster

I lived in Osborne Street, Ocean Grove. My home was diagonally across from Brian Donovan's, so I was probably one of the first people to meet Barbara when she came to live in Australia in October 1981. I think Brian's friends started to see him in a new light when this lovely lady came Down Under.

There were differences for Barbara to experience and since I had emigrated from another country, who better to be a mentor when Brian was in Melbourne working daily.

Shopping was one thing, with items having different names. We had quite a few excursions both locally and up to Melbourne on the train.

Since we are both practicing Catholics, we attended the same church in Ocean Grove and accompanied each other to midweek mass on Wednesday mornings. One such Wednesday morning, March 17th to be precise, half-an-hour prior to leaving for church I looked out of my window and there was Barbara with a small plant pot and trowel digging up a piece of 'greenery'. When we set off for church she was carefully carrying the plant when I asked about it. I was told it was to put on the altar. I asked why and was told that since it's St Patrick's Day she thought that to put 'shamrock' on the altar was the right thing to do and isn't it wonderful that it grows in Australia – not only that but it grows wild by the roadside. This offering was not shamrock. It was the weed oxalis that's considered a great pest. Nevertheless, Barbara put her plant on the altar. Our parish priest didn't bat an eyelid.

_Ada Foster, aged 86, and her family were neighbors of Barbara and Brian in Ocean Grove, Australia._

#### Keys of Friendship

By Julie Brylow

It was winter 1990 and slightly off-key singing wafted into the car park at the Woodbin Theatre in Geelong West. A rehearsal was in progress for Geelong Repertory Theatre Company's production of _The Canterbury Tales_ and Bernice was patiently accompanying Barb on the guitar. Together they searched in vain for the right note and although Barb persevered she never did find it. The director decided it might be best for everyone if Barb spoke the words instead. This was my amusing introduction to Barb. Meeting her would change my life forever.

Barb invited me to lunch at her Ocean Grove home, where we would spend many weekends in the years to come, cooking sumptuous feasts and enjoying glasses of bubbly on the deck and late night dips in that wonderful heated pool. Their home is welcoming and friendly and it was heartwarming to be embraced by Barb, Brian and their large extended family.

It was our imaginative trips to Melbourne where we really let our hair down and kicked up our heels. One trip Brian D forgot his luggage; it was left sitting in the driveway, so a quick shopping trip to Chapel Street was in order. Barb and I chuckled all the way up the street then decided to have a palm reading. The woman said, "I see a bag, a case...left by the road side."

During the winter of 1991, a mystery adventure in Melbourne was planned. Barb, Brian D, Cory, Carolynne, my husband Brian B and I stayed two nights in a beautiful apartment. We managed to lock ourselves out but amazingly for us a window was open just enough for one intrepid male in the group to squeeze inside, along with any would-be burglar!

I told the group to be ready for pick-up at 6.30pm. When the car horn sounded we tumbled out of our stylish apartment to be greeted by a white limousine. There were suitably enthusiastic _oohs_ and _aahs_ as we piled in together. The impeccably dressed driver then took us on a tour around the city while we sipped on glasses of crisp white wine.

Presuming we would be dropped at our destination for dinner, the group was surprised when the driver parked up and began serving us beautiful meals from the boot of the limousine as we overlooked various views of the city.

Love, laughter, support and caring are the keys to our friendship, along with crazy costumes, hilarious pass-it-on gifts and mysterious packages from celebrities delivered to us through Barb's network, which stretches all the way to the White House.

Her smile, sense of humour, can-do attitude and beautiful head of hair are the things I love about this woman.

We have shared some of life's highs and lows and will continue to do so with loads of laughter thrown in, as we all grow old disgracefully together.

_Julie and Brian Brylow met Barbara through Geelong Repertory Theatre. They all had parts in The Canterbury Tales production at the Woodbin Theatre. They and their families have been close friends ever since._

#### A True Blue Kangaroo

By Max Stephens

I met Barbara shortly after I went to study in Madison Wisconsin in early 1980. She was director of religious education at St Paul's University Catholic Centre, doing most of her work with families and their children on Sunday mornings. After some time "shopping around" different mass times, Brian, who arrived in mid-1980, decided to be a regular attender at the Saturday night service. I went on Sunday morning. Jane Redmont, also on the staff of St Paul's, told me that she had met another Australian called "Brain". When I told her she must have met my friend Brian Donovan, she didn't think that sounded like his first name. But somehow in later 1980 Brian met Barbara and that's where their story takes off.

I don't recall Barbara being very interested in sport in those days. Like Geelong, Madison was and is a sports-crazy town. Its college football team, the Badgers, could pack in nearly 90,000 fans for a homecoming weekend game. In those days, I never saw Barb at a Badgers game. Never heard her talk about the Green Bay Packers or the Milwaukee Brewers.

Along with Barb's friend Carole Everton, I accompanied her to Dane County airport in October 1981 when she took off to visit Brian in Australia. The next time I saw her was at Ocean Grove after I graduated in mid-1982. Brian was a long-time Essendon supporter, after his mother; but Leo, Brian's dad, was a Kangaroos supporter through-and-through. That's where Barb must have caught Roo fever. It may not have been an acute case at the start. But by 2000, Barb started travelling up to see the Kangaroos, also called the Shinboners, when they played in Melbourne.

The Kangaroos reign supreme in Barb's football world. For her, Wayne Carey is the Colossus. However she had lots of 'favourites', talked with and was photographed with them at the many Kangaroos functions.

Barb has an ecumenical football outlook embracing the likes of Saint Robert Harvey, Magpie Daisy Thomas, Swan Tadhg Kennelly. Even Demon Jimmy Stynes was sanctified. Some 'bad boys' from other teams were forgiven for all on and off field blemishes, and given heroic status – such as Stephen Milne, Gary Ablett Snr and Barry Hall.

Never underestimate the importance of women supporters for the AFL (Australian Football League). They may not be represented in many club boardrooms but they buy the season tickets and follow their teams with passion. They don't expect commentators to speak in some Aussie-male code.

When Wayne – following some off field bad boy incidents – retired from football, some people predicted that was the end of his career, but not Barbara. Her trust in Wayne and the sport never wavered.

Go Roos! Go Barb!

Max Stephens

_Max Stephens first met Barbara at the University Catholic Centre in Madison, Wisconsin in early 1980. They have been good friends since. Max had already known Brian in Australia._

### Final Thoughts

You may be interested to know where the title _Practical Magic_ came from. It certainly was not from the 1998 movie of that name. In fact neither Eleanor Woods nor Barbara had ever heard of the movie or its title. Eleanor had been thinking of an appropriate title and as the contributions of family and friends arrived and she reflected on Barbara's story, she found the words 'magic' and 'practical' stood out. Barbara's _Practical Magic_ has nothing to do with the sorcery magic of the 1998 movie, not dreamy magic in a fantastic land, but an uplifting magic that links her arm in arm with others in practical ways that meet everyday struggles. Without putting the words 'practical' and 'magic' together, in her story Barbara was conscious of how they were each part of her life.

We love her for who she is and how she continues life in full measure with heart, mind and will. Barbara has shown that the Wizard's words to the Tinman were certainly wrong: "Hearts will never be practical until they can be made unbreakable." She has woven with love a life tapestry of magic and the practical.

Thank you for sharing Barbara's story of her journey in life and thanks to all those who contributed to _Practical Magic_.

– Brian Donovan
