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  • ID: I2267
  • Name: Patrick John SINCLAIR
  • Sex: M
  • Birth: 25 AUG 1903 in Wongwabinda, District of Hillgrove, NSW
  • Burial: 29 OCT 1999 Uralla Lawn Cemetery, NSW
  • Reference Number: 1046
  • Occupation: Mill Manager & Sawyer
  • Event: NSW BDM 29 AUG 1927 Marriage BDM No 10935
  • Death: 25 OCT 1999 in Guyra, NSW following a stroke of Following a stroke.
  • Note:
    Based on the eulogy at his funeral given by his son Lance :-

    "We are here to mourn the death of a truly great man, Patrick Sinclair. A wonderful husband, father, grandfather, great grandfather & great great grandfather, but more than this we give thanks to God for his wonderful life. His life was spent in the Ebor, Dorrigo & Orara Valley areas of New South Wales. In 1927 he married Elizabeth Mary Sutton who had come from Torrington to visit her sister. She was his constant companion until his death.Probably like many bush kids of his time he, in some ways, led a pretty hard life.

    He worked on a farm at "Maida Vale", near Ebor, milking cows at the early age of 8 for 6d a day plus his lunch. It was not until he was 10 years old that he was able to attend school at Hernani. A school recently built by his Grandfather Paddy McCarthy. At I4 years he completed his education & when his parents moved to Coramba he became apprenticed to a baker. However he left this trade because of the inability to get on with the owner. When he was 15 he was employed with one of the Fahey boys from Tyringham to take a herd of cattle to Guyra for sale. As he did not have a horse, one was lent to him. On his return the horse died about 1 mile from home & the "owner " took the price of the horse from his wages. He found out later that the horse had been stolen. He was sawyer/manager at mills in Leigh, Megan, Cascade & Dorrigo until he retired at 68. At that time he retired and after a few months which included 3 months in New Zealand, he again entered the work force as the back storeman at Bailey's in Dorrigo. There he remained until 3 weeks before his 80th birthday. He then remained in retirement until moving to a hostel in Uralla, with Mary, for a short time and then to Guyra hospital for the rest of his life. In the early 1930's Pat won a selection for a grant of land near Wardell on the NSW north coast, however his mother would not allow him to take up the selection as it would require him leaving the Dorrigo District.

    Pat was interested in sport of any kind, and was more than useful at all sports he played. These included football, tennis, cricket, bowls,boxing, fishing, shooting & billiards. He played competition cricket until he was 65 then took up Bowls, which he played at competition level, until just before he left Dorrigo. Pat Sinclair was a man of great integrity, a hard worker and a fair man living his life as a mill foreman, he expected good and hard work from his men, but it was always understood that he would not ask anyone to do anything he was not prepared to do himself. In his chief field as a sawyer he was considered by many to be the best ever in the Dorrigo area & one of the best in the state. As an example of his complete dependability I recall an case when he shot and skinned a pale coloured dingo. Someone offered him 5 pound for it (more than a weeks wages) but as Pat had promised to give the next skin to a Sydney owner of the mill he was working in, he couldn't sell the skin. It was promised to another person. His word was his bond.

    Pat with his wife Mary raised a family of five and ensured that his children all received a good education. All of them fully appreciate the sacrifices that he made to do this, as there were no facilities for a complete high school education at hand. Most had to attend boarding schools. Today he is still revered by these children, their spouses and their children. There is so much more I could say about this man but time does not permit. I will just conclude by saying, Thank you God for the life of of your faithful servant Patrick John Sinclair 1902-1999."

    Return to Deepwater by Patrick Sinclair Jnr

    "Hello Patrick Faegan you're the apple of my eye"
    "Hello Patrick Faegan", I still hear the old man's cry,
    and I think that my first memory is Patrick Faegan's song.
    The old man 's face I'll not forget, his voice still lingers on.

    I remember frosty mornings and the crackle of the fire,
    and the old man by the woodpile as the kindling stack grows higher.
    I would marvel at his axe work, the precision of his hand,
    For eighty years he'd worked the wood that's native to this land.
    For all those years he's sharpened saws and kept the tools in trim,
    If I could be like someone else, I want to be like him.

    He'd always have a word to say he always had a smile.
    His stories still amaze us, if we stop and sit awhile.
    He'll talk about a cricket game from 1931,
    the players styles, the batting scores and of course the team that won.
    And then with Aunty Nina he would talk about a fight
    that happened in the bakery, and who was in the right,
    "Who was in the fight?" I'd ask, "Do I know the men?"
    "I doubt it son, I'd say they're gone, that fight was 1910."

    But the old man isn't some old dog that can't be taught new tricks,
    he understands, as well as I, modern politics.
    He'll sit back in his easy chair and talk of days of old
    as he changes to today's test match with the new remote control.
    Yet life's not always easy, the years not always kind,
    So many friends you must let go as you travel on in time,
    So much pain he must feel now as one he loves falls down,
    the old man's face was not so bright last time I went around.

    How much more can one man see and be alive to tell?
    The stories must seem sadder now, but who am I to tell?
    I remember hours spent in the shed, learning at his side,
    and the ancient oily lawnmower I never got to ride.
    I remember little nuances of tunes that he would hum.
    And I think the Christmas holiday was always too soon done.

    I remember days and years gone past, I'll never see again.
    I remember, memories, mostly good, that I'll carry to the end.
    I remember all these things I write, I know that there is more,
    but there are things you just can't write, some pictures can't be drawn.
    The day will come, he will be gone, and what will I have then?
    I'll tell you what. What I've always had. I have known this man.

    "Hello Patrick Faegan you're the apple of my eye"
    "Hello Patrick Faegan", I still hear the old man cry.
    Hello Patrick Faegan my Grandfather sang to me.
    Hello Patrick Faegan, no more proud could I be.




    Father: Edwin Ward SINCLAIR b: 10 APR 1877 in Dorrigo, NSW
    Mother: Mary Alice MCCARTHY b: 15 MAY 1883 in Hillgrove, NSW

    Marriage 1 Elizabeth Mary SUTTON b: 26 JAN 1908 in Torrington, NSW
    • Married: 29 AUG 1927 in Sacred Heart Church, Dorrigo, NSW
    • Event: NSW BDM No 29 AUG 1927 in No 10935
    Children
    1. Has Children Lance Edward SINCLAIR b: 09 APR 1928 in Coffs Harbour, NSW
    2. Has Children Colin John SINCLAIR b: 05 AUG 1929 in Coffs Harbour, NSW
    3. Has Children Living SINCLAIR
    4. Has Children Living SINCLAIR
    5. Has Children Living SINCLAIR
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