Book 12 - Chapter 4                                    Written / Published  30.10 - 3.11.13

(Pics by author, unless indicated)

         HOME            THE  WINNER GAVE  IT  ALL       Given your all? Now what?    

"I am the Alpha and the Omega, the Beginning and the End, the First and the Last." (Revelations 22, 13)

In this chapter we start a journey on two wheels from Adelaide to Sydney via Canberra. On the first day my path crossed... Why wait ...and Believe!

 

 

4.   The missing B

Who likes waiting? I have been waiting more than a decade for God to bring justice for my imprisoned friend. So far there has been not even a hint of an answer to my prayers. Two days before this chapter I was again asking God, why ...? That morning (Oct. 28th 13) the heading in Our Daily Bread bible reading could not have been more timely: "Wait On The Lord."

Dennis Fisher writes: "Sometimes we feel that God has let us down because He does not provide an immediate answer to our prayer. Waiting can transform us into a people of growing faith. God wants us to grow in faith, to persevere in prayer to develop our character."

Today, on the date of commencement of this new chapter, the title in Our Daily Bread is: The Last Chapter. The word last is an adverb. But it also is a surname; that of my favourite bandmasters, James Last. Music was on my mind, when I had a thought: "What good is a collection of vinyl records when you don't have a player to enjoy one of your favourite artists?" 

I started a search for a second-hand player on Australia's popular trading website Gumtree. The first listing, placed the day before, was just what I was looking for. The fact that the record player / tape deck was almost an antique did not bother me.

After few text messages back and forth that same afternoon, two days before this writing, I was driving on Nelson Road on my way to view my potential purchase. Then I remembered: I should have carried a vinyl record with me. I could then try the player myself. 

Within a second of this thought, I was not dreaming, in the opposite direction came a vehicle. It all went so fast, how weird was it, the personalised, red registration plate was one word: VINYL. (There was a single digit number after it, but I could not read it clearly. It may have been 1?)

The seller had advertised his player as 'in prefect working order'. He had a record ready to demonstrate the player. The turntable turned. What I saw and listened to all looked OK. The Panasonic sound was fantastic. Deal done. Within half an hour I was home, had the player installed, placed a record on the turntable and ... it sounded woeful.

It sounded as if the music, with every turn of the turn table, had to go over a bump. I phoned the seller, who gave me all kinds of explanations what could be the problem and what I could do to fix it. I knew I had not damaged anything. I had already tried most of what he suggested, checked that it's on the correct speed, checked the connection etc. Still not good. But before getting worked up, I left it in God's hands.

 

 LEDSONIC 1500 

A turn-table drive belt or a simple

rubber band? Little wonder the   music sounded terrible. 

The next day, with a little thinking and tinkering I found the problem (pic. right). I was not sure, if the seller was genuine or really did not know that his player (in perfect working order) was actually driven by an ordinary rubber band?

The next day I was led to see a *friend, who had had a few problems. I had been able to help him out and was checking how he was going. "By the way," I asked him, "Do you know anything about turn tables?" Before he could answer he walked away and came back with a record player, a SONY PS-LX56. He asked if I wanted it. The rest was simple. The drive belt fitted my LEDSONIC.

*How remarkable is this? The day I wrote this Our Daily Bread Bible reading has a name in the first line - Marc. My friend's name is Marc. A week ago I found out that his name is also spelled with c.

God is a master mind-reader. That's why HE says: "My thoughts are higher than your thoughts ..." (Isaiah 55,9)

On the day of writing I woke with the strange thought: What if I was led to buy this LEDSONIC? What if there is a hidden message? Is it the word rubber-band? The b's in rubber, and the Da Ninci interpretation of rubber, took me to one of my very early chapters, where escaping bees played a part.

In my very first book, Chapter 37...

Hey, I just saw this: The house number, where I had bought the above LED ... was No. 37... 

More WOW: Chapter 37 is titled Crash Code 413, the registration plate of the truck from where the bees escape from. Read about 341... in a moment and believe ...!

... you will find reference to my early online creation, car crashes, illustrated for road safety education purposes. My animators, C. and D. Thompson and I took it into a different realm. After a car crashed into the back of a truck, an escaped bees became a symbol for truth!

(To view: Click on dieterfischer.com >>> Car crashes with a twist and much more >>> Crash No.7 - the bees appear right at the end)

Now rubber-band made sense: UR HE truth - B DNA.

In a moment, on our first day riding a bicycle to Sydney, we shall pause in a small town called Truro. It's all true! The number 1500 (15C) makes perfect sense too. (Read on).

How amazing! In this chapter 37, Book 1, in an email to a Melbourne Radio Station, I had urged those mocking God to turn around and believe! I had claimed that God is speaking through car crashes, number plates and football scores...!

Read on, how God is still using number plates and football scores etc etc for HIS pleasure. One very interesting football result comes right at the end of this chapter.

- - - - - - -

 

For some years my wife had expressed a wish. She desired to see the annual garden display in Canberra, called Floriade. For various reasons, her mother's fall and lengthy recovery, my trips overseas etc, her wish was put off year after year - until 2013.

Thanks be to God that Agnes, my mother-in-law, had recovered very well and at age 92 was in good health. She agreed to join my wife in the Floriade experience. But what about me? A holiday with mother-in-law? This thought can cause any man to break out in a hot sweat! (Sorry, just kidding.) 

The situation called for some creative planning. 

As my readers know, creativity has been one of my stronger (crazier, maybe?) points. Creative brains like mine are never late for meetings. They have applied creative time-management to get there. On the road they never speed, they drive creatively. 

Some, creative brains, however, do not hesitate to steal from others and call it creative wealth distribution! (A la, Now you see me... with Isla Fisher).

 

Knowing that a small dose of mother-in-law goes a long way, my creative brain came up with this plan: Ride the GIANT bike, first to Canberra, meet my wife and her mother to visit the Floriade, and then continue riding to Sydney? 

A previous attempt, in 2008, to cycle to Sydney had failed after only 50 kilometres. I had carried too much luggage, which had not been secured properly. Plus, it started raining and I had inadequate rain protection. The route I had chosen, the shortest distance, would have taken me through very thinly populated areas.

This time, 5 1/2 years later, I had much more experience in long distance cycling. Plus a very good thought came at the last moment: Why not change the route and ride a slightly longer distance through the Riverland? This would by-pass the steep climb over the Adelaide Hills. I'd also be able to pitch my tent in a caravan park every night. It meant an extra day cycling, but so what?

On September 26th, 13, just before 9 AM I was ready. The 20 minutes time spent, carefully strapping my tent and sleeping bag etc. onto the back carrier, paid off. Not once did I have a problem with luggage, shifting or falling off, during the entire 1750 km ride. I said good-bye to my wife Isobel, and began the long pedal north on Adelaide's main route north. 

This must be why it's called Main North Road? But how creative was the brain, who named it that? (My guess, it was the same one, who came up with a name for the main route south - Main South Road!)

(Talking of street names, read on for an interesting one in Merbien or Merbein or...?)

 

The weather forecast that spring day was for a very windy day; the temperature in the low 20's, partly cloudy. Conditions could not have been better. If I were to believe in nepotism, I would have suspected my son, who works at the weather bureau, arranged these strong westerly winds for me. (No, the weather and all was and is under the control of another father and son team!) 

(Three weeks later exactly, on my final day riding into Sydney, the wind became a vicious enemy; tragically for some! Read it in a following chapter).

 

About an hour from home I had to decide, if I should continue on Main North Road and take the Sturt Highway, or ride through Gawler and Lyndoch. Since I did not want to by-pass South Australia's famous wine region, the Barossa Valley, I continued through Gawler. Just as well I did. I would have missed an interesting place. Take a look:

 

 

Later in the day I took a break in the small town of Truro. Sitting on a seat I noticed this New South Wales registration number.

Message? Y WAIT 5. >>>

<<<  Nice name for a shop. believe.

 

The word believe had been on my mind after writing the previous chapter. I photographed it.

 

Break the 4 into 13 and the last five digits of above phone number make the date I started this chapter: 30.10.13. There is an intelligent designer behind it all. HE.

 

 

 

- - - - - - -

The sun was still rather high in the sky at 3.30 PM, when I crossed the River Murray at Blanchetown. I had already covered about 120 kilometres and originally planned to overnight there. With the favourable, strong winds, however, my GIANT had no trouble pushing me on to the next town, Waikerie. I arrived around by 6 PM. In the evening the winds dropped. It was hard to believe, I had covered over 160 kilometres on my first day.

On the second day, being ahead of schedule, I could afford to take breakfast easy and pack up slowly. Just as well, later two flat tyres annoyed me. One just after lunch, which was on the banks of the River Murray at Kingston. Later in the afternoon, just before Renmark another flat. I had been too optimistic and left the old, patched up tubes on the rim. I should have fitted new tubes before leaving.

At the turn-off to Glossop, leaving the Sturt Highway to visit Berri, I made a mistake, which could have been disastrous. I made the sudden decision to turn, without looking behind and giving a proper signal. Luckily the driver of the white Mitsubishi reacted quickly and braked hard. The squealing of his tyres alerted me, I quickly moved out of his way. 

There was one other scary moment. On a dual-laned road in New South Wales I felt the rush of wind close beside me, as a small, green Hyundai Excel swerved around me. It came close, very close. I can only guess why. There are still careless motorists, who are using hand-held mobile devises while driving. How foolish! The best thing every driver can do is to make a firm decision: The phone goes into the glove-box and stays there, until I stop the vehicle!

 

It was mid-afternoon as I rode into Berri. I noticed a gentlemen leaving an office building. Moments later I saw him turn the corner at the roundabout, where I was sitting on a seat. The registration plate - sorry for the repetitive nature of my experiences - 1055. Next a driving school vehicle drove by. Even without the registration plate (...909) I would have taken notice. The 909 struck me, because of an observation moments earlier. Take a look:

  Arriving in Berri in South Australia's Riverland

(Why not check it for yourself? Visit Berry; and Adelaide! On the news recently Mr. Chris Zeiher from Lonely Planet, declared that Adelaide had been selected as Nr. 9 in their list of 10-must-see places in 2014.

                                                - - - - - - -

This picture does not show it very well, but the tree, which had it's crown cut off, is the 9th tree from the right. There are 6 more, which don't show!

- - - - - - -

 

Read the story below  of this 1977 Silver Jubilee 50 cent coin.

But there was more, which I would have missed had I not decided to take a rest in Berri. On my way back to rejoin the Old Sturt Highway I did a little shopping at the Riverland Central Plaza in Kay Ave. I bought 3 bananas and 2 carrots. They cost $ 1.35. For some reason, maybe I was just tired, I handed the teller $ 1.70 in 3 coins: 1 Dollar, 50 cents, 20 cents). 

She looked a little confused. Something didn't add up. She handed me back the 20 cent coin. I had mistaken a 50 cent coin for a 20. Why am I writing about such trivial matter?

A few minutes later, back on my bike, as I slowly pedalled up Kay Ave, which was slightly uphill, I saw a coin, right in the middle of a T-junction. You guessed it. It was a fifty cent coin. I immediately recalled the 50 cent error minutes earlier. How strange it all sounded. I took notice of the street, which forms the T-junction to Kay Ave - Arndt Street. 

It took me 24 hours and many kilometers of cycling / thinking what to make of Arndt. But it came: DN ART. 

The next morning, after a restful night in Renmark, in a Caravan Park beside the Murray, out of the blue I met an old driving instructor friend. He happened to spend the weekend, enjoying the River Murray, in the same park. We chatted only for a few minutes, since I was already on my bike on the way out. Amazed at what I am doing, he wished me a safe journey.

We could call him Mr. L (or Mr. 50) for two reasons. Firstly, his name is Les (L it) and secondly, he is a driving instructor, teaching people on L plates. I had not seen Les for some years. (I made mention of Les in Book 5, Chapter 6). Beside a former colleague, he is also a brother in Christ, totally committed to HIM. It was refreshing, albeit brief, to meet Les. 

That I would meet him, a day after finding 50 cents a few kilometers away, is nothing short of .... L art.

- - - - - - -

 

This sign told me that Mildura is 55 km away.

It clearly read M1 55. Most other signs read MI. 

(I saw    >>>   1SSOOO).

Above: 35 kilometers further east this sign gave the official spelling for Merbein. (See previous chapter).

 

Above sign had obviously been used as a target for a local shooting competition. It looks like they were not aiming at bein (German for leg). The shooter's target may have been Me or er?

Above: Home sweet home, in a real estate office in Mildura. Notice a third way of spelling: Merebin (beside Merbein).

Two properties in Merebin Ct. were for sale, Nos. 2 and 7.

Wikipedia informs: "The town's name was intended to be "Merebin", which is the Aboriginal word for 'white sandcliffs', but an error made when registering the name corrupted it to Merbein.'" (This still does not explain Merbien in Chapter 3.)

 

 

 

Below: Gumtrees on the River Murray at Tooleybuc, NSW. 

 

- - - - - - -

Approaching Mildura I had been advised that accommodation may be difficult to get. The country music festival had just started and it was a weekend. All caravan parks were booked out. But I need not have worried. The friendly lady at Buronga Riverside Caravan Park gave me a site, a beautiful spot, right on the river. I checked in for two nights. The cost was less than half the fee I had paid the night before at the BIG4 at Renmark.

The BIG4  (big on price) at Renmark had made me pay for two campers*, $ 35.00, even when I was on my own? Later in New South Wales this record would be broken - at another BIG 4 Park - $ 38).

*They must have included, and charged, God also. HE was with me! 

- - - - - - -

The news reported that south-eastern Australia was affected by severe storms. One news reader called it the worst storm-front to cross Victoria in 30 years. Fortunately, the region I travelled through was too far north to be affected. After Mildura I followed the Sturt Highway along the River Murray in a south-easterly direction. The winds still blew strong, but were more on my right side, which made riding harder. Another factor made me struggle that day, dehydration. I had suffered from a bout of gastro, possibly drank some bad water.

Leaving the Sturt Highway at Robinvale I took the B400 and made good progress toward my next overnight at Tooleybuc, a picturesque little river village. Cycling through the settlement of Nyah, a very Da Ninci name indeed, I noticed a very Da Ninci sign: BURTON'S STORE NYAH.

 

 How amazing did this photo from Google Streetview come out! Burton's S ore. The message: 

...the t hurt...)

After pasting and looking at this photo again, a thought came: "By HIS stripes we are healed." Those stripes described in Isaiah, no doubt, were red also.

As I write, listening to Gospel Music Selections, a male voice is singing: "The cross made a difference for me ..."

 

Sign outside a church, en route to Kingston:

IF YOU'RE WAITING FOR A SIGN - THIS IS IT! - t

 

- - - - - - -

At Kerang, my furthest point south, a rain storm swept over the town. Luckily, I was not on the open road, but found shelter for the few minutes it lasted. After a coffee break, it was only another hour to my overnight stop, Barham in New South Wales. I had barely arrived, when it started raining again. Many times I thanked God for the weather during this ride.

More good fortune - the local Hotel, the Royal Barham, had rooms for only $ 35. Why pitch the tent in the rain, when you can enjoy a little luxury, like a bed at a Royal Hotel?

The sun was shining brightly the next morning. Before breakfast I took a little excursion across the river from New South Wales, back into Victoria. I had read about a little gem called Koondrook, a historic town going back to 1843, when European settlement started:

 

 Historic Koondrook, Victoria

<<< The BAKERY at Koondrook was not open, despite the Tourist office claiming it opened in 1910.

 

L 315 - Railway carriage number, it matched the digits of my birthday! 

Above: Historic Railway Station and freight cars - Apex Park, Koondrook.

The town was once at the centre of Australia's largest red gum forest industry. The Arbuthnot Sawmill, built in 1923, is still operating at the same location today. The paddle-steamer Melbourne was built in Koondrook in 1914. Today the ship is a tourist attraction in Mildura. 

<<< RED Bitter, Master Brewed. 

As I slowly cycled through Apex Park at Koondrook, on the ground my eyes spied a can. It looked out of place; the park was spotlessly clean. At first I resisted the temptation to check it out closer. But what man can resist a beer...? (Just joking). I gave in, turned back. The words Master Brewed made me think - is there something brewing? I took a photo. Now I'm glad I did. Didn't we, a moment ago draw attention to the colour red, in Nyah?

There was something else, however, which bothered me. The can was positioned so it pointed right across the park toward a building, a church? A closer look revealed it pointed right to the building of the Historical Society.

A sudden brainwave came, writing here: BITTER / DIETER   >>>  DEBT.

A song comes to mind, which fits right in:

"HE paid a debt HE did not owe, you owed a debt you could not pay. It needed someone to ...".  

The Master Brewer did IT... on a cross, sore with stripes, He died to pay your debt!

- - - - - - -

 

Until now I had followed the River Murray for a week, more or less. Along the way I had been thinking: If God led me to ride the Mississippi last year, the Murray this year, where to next year? The Amazon or Nile? Or what about some more DN art beside the river Danube, perhaps?

On Thursday 3.10.13, after nearly 90 kilometers of steady riding, assisted by a strong tailwind again, I arrived at Deniliquin early. (The spelling is a little difficult; they call it Deni for short.) It had been a rather cool day. Had the wind been blowing from the other direction and the weather very hot, I may have had problems with water. There was no real town or village en route that day, except a picnic table beside a public toilet at Caldwell.

Deniliquin was vibrant for a country town of around 8000. I soon found out that it was the weekend of the big Ute Muster. It's an annual event, where enthusiasts from all over Australia gather to show off their pride and joy, their ute. Ute is short for utility. It's an Australian invention, a type of work-vehicle, which has become an icon in the bush. 

The first Ute Muster was held in 1999, when organisers claimed a world record: Largest gathering of Utes in one places - 2700. By 2013 this popular event has grown to a record 9,736 utes on show.

The Deniliquin Ute Muster also holds a record count for most number of people wearing blue singlets - in 2010 that Guinness Book of Records count stood at 3500 people. In 2013, and a new blue singlet record of 3,924 was counted. Blue singlets, or Blueys, are traditionally worn by sheep shearers. (How interesting, the 2010 record of 3500 was achieved on 2.10.2010. (Source: Wikipedia).

 

<<< Utes on show in Deniliquin, NSW.

Ute is short for utility. They are much like what's called pick-up truck in the US. (I just noticed -  these are the colours of the German flag - black red, yellow.  Below: What happened to the missing t in too and the u in culture?

Where is  i t ?

(Note the colour of the red ute!)

I took this picture and saw - extra n!

<<<  Mishap on a busy roundabout in Deniliquin.

Ambulance officers and police were called to the main roundabout. It appeared a person, on a scooter or on foot, had been struck by a vehicle (probably a ute?) It appeared no one was seriously injured.

Why do I regard extra n as remarkable?

A man I know well owns a red ute, just like the one displayed above. Wouldn't he have loved to be here? He'd fit in very well, with his red ute and his name - D. Quinn.

 

(It so happened, this man was just visiting us moments before I pasted the above photo.)

I left the Riverside Caravan Park in Deniliquin on the morning of Sat 5/10/13. Traffic on the highway was at a standstill. The sheer volume of traffic, mostly utes, clogged up the road. It did not worry me, of course. I turned off the Cobb Highway and followed the Riverina Highway through Blighty, had lunch at Finley and arrived around 4 pm at Jerilderie. It was a fairly average riding day, about 100 kilometers distance.

A small building with a big letter i indicated the tourist information office. The tiny shop was also a shop selling sweets. On the way out I rewarded myself with a bag of lollies. The next day those little round sweets would cause me to lose something, a coin.

But first, after pitching my tent and showering, I learned much about bushranger Ned Kelly and his gang:

 

Historic Telegraph >>> office Jerilderie NSW

In 1879 the Kelly gang raided the town over a two day period. It was the furthest town north they had ventured, the only place in NSW. Kelly and his gang first bailed up two police constables, locked them into a jail cell and used their uniforms as decoy..

Blacksmith's shop >>>

An accomplice of Kelly forced the telegraph operator and some locals to cut down telegraph poles, so the news of their mayhem would not get out. The Bank of New South Wales was right next to the Royal Mail Hotel. Dan Kelly, Ned's brother, rounded up hotel staff and locked them into the bar room, while Ned stole more than 2000 pounds.

Royal Mail Hotel >>>

Walking around Jerilderie in the evening it was impossible to not stumble upon a building or a sign, which pointed to the infamous raid by the Kelly gang. I was wondering about those, on the surface, common criminals? What made them do it? 

The answer may be in the fact that back then police corruption, and the injustices that go with it, was far worse and more widespread than today. Kelly must have regarded his robberies as creative wealth distribution, putting right the perceived wrong, done to his family. He wrote a lengthy letter, which during his two days in Jerilderie, he tried to have published. But that's another story in Ned's Jerilderie's story.

One aspect about this bushranger concerns me, his ongoing fame. There are shops named after Ned Kelly, not only in the districts of Victoria, where he operated in, but all over Australia. And how much do our children at school learn about this outlaw and his gang, whilst another campaigner for creative wealth distribution, one who used love as a weapon, is largely scorned by our state education system?

I will always remember Jerilderie because of the Kelly story and ... the lollies I had bought. They started a whole pattern of observations, which centred around the numbers 10 and 5.

- - - - - - -

As I cycled away from the town on the Newell Highway that starts with J, I thought I had missed my turn off to Urana. (Should have carried a good map). I had already passed the service station at the eastern end of town, when I decided to go back and ask there. Had I not done so, I would have missed the two coins, which lay on the opposite side of the roadway, first a 10 cent coin, then 5 cent.

Within seconds a car overtook. I spotted for a nanosecond the registration plate. It ended in ...715. It took until a day later that I realized 7 x 15 = 105. There were those two digits again. More surprising came the thought a day later: "Hey, wasn't yesterday October 5th? It was!

Still some time later, how these thoughts take so long to come, I don't know - add the 50 cents from Berri to the newly found 15 cents and ... voila - ISS0. I put the 15 cents into the pocket of my shorts, with the lollies.

It was a great day again, cycling on a flat country road, a slight tailwind, mostly sunny and mild weather. I had just passed the green distance sign U 15 (15 kilometers to Urana) when I remembered the lollies I had in my pocket. I reached into my pocket to eat one. As I did the two coins, the 10 cent and the 5 cent coin, fell onto the roadway.

I had intended to keep the coins as souvenirs. (I have a collection, you know). Unfortunately, as I turned back I only found the 5 cent coin on the roadway. The 10 cent coin must have rolled into the gravel somewhere. There was no traffic hardly at all. I started to look briefly for the coin, but then ...

Imagine, a car came by and in the middle of nowhere would see me searching for something on the side of the road. Imagine the driver stopping and asking: "What are you looking for?" What would I give for an answer? "A ten cent coin!" I got back on my bike - 10 cents poorer! 

But the story did not end there. TWM. Friends, I am not making this up. On the same day I lost that coin, the subject matter in Our Daily Bread Bible reading could not have been a better match.

 

 

<<< Our Daily Bread, October 5, 2013  

The Value Of One:

The scripture was from Luke 15.

 

Jesus tells two stories, one about a man who lost one of his one hundred sheep. The other about a woman who lost - a silver coin.

 

The writer David McCasland writes: We are all of great value to God... He faithfully pursues us with love and grace. There is great joy in heaven over one sinner who repents."

 

The good news is, God does not regard you like I did the lost silver coin. It is hard to grasp, why God places such high value on each of us, when there are 7 000 000 000 of us! But it ISSO.

Maybe, next time I travel this road I shall search for 1 10 cent coin, by the green sign - 15 kilometers from Urana. If I find it, let's party! 

- - - - - - -

The sign U 15, fifteen kilometers from Urana, was the same kind I photographed 10 kilometers from my next overnight stop, Lockhart. Why did I stop riding to photograph the exciting picture below? I had a good reason, an ISSO reason:

 

<<< 10 km southwest of Lockhart.

 

On that Saturday afternoon I cycled this lonely road toward Lockhart. The same nano second I passed this sign a small, bright-green hatchback overtook me. I just caught the number 55 and the letter BE as it went by. It was an L plate driver. It really was so!

 

(The vehicle is the tiny spot in the distance!)

Two days later I passed the same vehicle as it came back, driving in a westerly direction.

Lockhart is a historic town 103 kilometers north-east from Jerilderie. It's classified by the National Trust and features covered verandas on both sides of the main road. That's why it's called the Veranda Town. 

There were only a handful of other campers in the grassy caravan park, which was close to the town centre, beautifully situated by a tranquil river. I used the BBQ area that evening to cook myself a piece of meat for dinner. The modern, self-contained toilet / bathroom units looked as if they had only recently been added.

Strolling up and down the main street, window shopping on this balmy evening, was totally relaxing after a day in the saddle. If I recall, Lockhart was the only town without reception on my mobile telephone. Usually I tried to phone home every evening, to tell of my how I was doing, and to find out how my wife's preparations for our rendezvous in Canberra were progressing. (No word about found and lost coins, of course).

The next day was Sunday. My cycling route rejoined the A 20 about 24 kilometers before the major regional centre of Wagga Wagga. I reached the caravan park early in the afternoon. It allowed for some washing and a good look around the town on the bike. Riding slowly you always find and see things.

 

Centre of town, Wagga Wagga, NSW.

In the evening, strolling and riding around the town, I had hoped to find a church service I could join. There wasn't one.

At an outdoor cafe, I recall, I made a sudden turn on my GIANT. (Can't remember the reason). Whatever it was, it paid off; more coin-incidents. This time a $ 2 coin.

Above an office building on a main street I noticed the familiar logo of our ABC National Broadcaster. However, something central was missing.

And where is ... our a? It's 20.4 kilometers from Wagga. See picture at the end of the chapter!

 

<<<    ABC Riverina Office, Wagga Wagga.

The address is 100 Fitzmaurice St. But surely, that's not what A C means?

The B is gone, escaped? Did I not earlier in this chapter write about escaped bees, the symbol for truth? 

Where is the truth? 

 

Our Daily Bread November 2, 2013: Who's Telling The Truth?

 

               Picture: scienceillustrated.com.au

Friends, the ABC is Australia's National Broadcaster. One would assume they are independent and take an interest in reporting truth. For this reason, about a decade ago, I first contacted the ABC in Adelaide, in writing, about my doubts in the Peter Liddy case. I continued my whistle blowing, to the ABC and others, as new material came forth. 

To this day silence has been the response! How far have we really progressed in our justice system since 1879? If I re-think the whole case, I can understand how one could easily become a Ned Kelly, out of sheer frustration. But the weapons God uses to have HIS will done, are not made of human hands. 

I fail to understand how those I informed could continue to ignore the truth, the plain facts:

No media has ever reported that the main accuser of Peter Liddy has said, when aged 19, that he had never been abused as a child. 

No media has ever reported that this sad man lived a life of crime, in jail most of his young life. Yet the courts and jury believed him, rather than the respected magistrate!

No media has ever reported that a woman found hanged, allegedly having committed suicide, was a neighbour of Peter Liddy and had been to see his lawyers, defending the man's character. Has her death ever been investigated properly? Is there more to her death than has been reported?

Who will tell Australians the truth? If all think that my writing, the questions I have asked, merely stem from a mentally ill mind, why doesn't anybody challenge my findings? I will listen! 

Is it because all know - D is telling the truth?

- - - - - - -

 

Fast forward seven days. Adelaide's A-league football team, Adelaide United, played it's first game of the new A-League season at home. In front of a record crowd they displayed great skills and confidence, beating their opponents, Perth Glory 3:1. The date the game was played: 13.10.13.

 

On the morning of publishing this chapter, November 3, the bible reading in church was Psalm 113. No Glory for Perth Glory on 13.10. But all glory to God, forever:

"The Lord is high above all nations, and His glory above the heavens." (Psalm 113, 4).

 

God works miracles, with numbers or otherwise. HIS will will come to pass. We just need to wait.

My prayer is and has been for ten years now: 

"Lord, if you love justice, if UR the beginning and the end

 

and have ALL power, you can and will bring justice to those who suffer injustice! 

YOUR will be done! 

 

Chapter 5

Index