“My middle name is Anita so my nickname is Kade which is literally my initials. I was born April 1972 in Armidale. My sister and I are both Easter babies. My Mum grew up in Grafton and Dad was a farm boy from Terranora. They were migrants after the war. Both my parents went to Uni in Armidale so the sweet Dutch boy married the Catholic girl from Grafton. I was the first baby on the scene, the first grandchild for all the grandparents.
Dad was studying Geomorphology and in 1975 they moved to Lismore and Dad got a job at the then Northern Rivers College of Advanced Education. He taught the Science and effectively developed into what became the Diploma of Applied Science which then became the Environmental Science Degree at SCU.
My father died when I was 11. Grief and death is a major thing for everybody but that was definitely a defining feature for this family. He was the most beautiful person and the most beautiful father. I felt like we were always together. If I smell motorbike oil it takes me back. Dad was into motorbikes and Orchids.
This house (where we did the interview) used to be called the College House. All the kids on this corner were the same age. My parents were pretty poor college students. My Mum didn’t want to send me to school as she didn’t think it would be good for me. It proved to be true in the long run. We had a preschool here in this house and when it came time for me to go to school she couldn’t do it. Mum and a few others from Terania Creek set up the Magic Pudding Co-Op and ran the school here in this beautiful house. I went to school here till 1981. If you wanted your child to go to the school, there were no fees but you had to help run the school. I remember going to Tucki School a day a week so we all socialised. They ended up buying a property at Richmond Hill and building school buildings which are now the core buildings for Vistara. Vistara eventually bought the buildings.
I spent most of my childhood up trees and with my Dad who restored motor bikes. Birthday parties he’d take kids up and down Park Street on his restored BSA.
Mum was head teacher of Child Care at Tafe for a long time and Dad was working at the College. Dad got a sabbatical in Manchester so we lived overseas in a Kombi for 6 months. We went to school in England which was first taste of real school. It was an old industrial town on the edge of Manchester. It was pretty wild and I was bullied ruthlessly for my Australian accent. It was intense.
We came back and by this time the college had moved out to East Lismore. This particular day we got ready for school, Dad was with us and Mum had gone to work. Dad would put us on the bus and then he’d go to work on his motor bike. I still remember this day sitting at the back of the bus, going up Wyrallah Rd and seeing Dad riding behind the bus. Somehow we got a bit split going up Dalley St. The bus turned the corner at the butchers there and I still remember hearing this noise which sounded like a gas explosion or a bomb. I got to school and about 10am someone had come to get us. That noise was my Dad being cleaned up by a Telstra van who had gone through a Stop sign. Dad was wearing jeans and sandals and a helmet.
My father was in Brisbane Hospital for 6 months. The outcome was bleak. They were saying he probably won’t walk or talk again and he certainly doesn’t know who you are. I still remember looking at the person in the bed and I didn’t recognise him. He was so messed up, so many broken bones but it was the brain damage that was the worst. He was a forest protector so all that time he’s been involved in The Terania. He was with the National Parks Association and they were really instrumental in getting the Border Ranges, Bundjalung and The Nightcap protected. We did a lot of bushwalking and Dad would map the edges of the areas they wanted protected.
Dad was amazing. I watched him learn how to walk, talk and write again, I think he remembered Mum but eventually my folks separated. Dad bought a property at Terania Creek so he moved out there. It was about a year later. I was meant to be spending the weekend with him but I had a friend come to Lismore so I cancelled. Then I changed my mind again but I didn’t catch him in time to go with him. It was January and there was a big Camphor stump on his property he wanted gone so he lit a fire in the stump. It was a Channon Market Day so the whole valley is pretty empty because everyone goes to the market. The fire took off into the grass as the weather changed and there was only one other beautiful man who saw and came to Dad’s aid. They were fighting the fire. I was here and Dad’s twin brother had called. The man helping Dad fight the fire had found a Den Exter in the phone book. I was the one who took the call and I knew he was dead. It was smoke inhalation. They found him slumped over a log. The ambulance got lost on the way out and didn’t know what driveway. After all of that fighting to heal all that time and then he was gone. I was 12 years old. His name was Peter Matthew Den Exter. He loved teaching and he was an amazing teacher.”
