The NON Award (Now Over Ninety) is a new Valentine Men's Probus Award for Nonagenarians.
Roy Abbott is the 1st recipient of this award having attained the age of 90 on 15th July 2014.
Some background on Roy.
His first job was a farm worker at Nundle in 1936.
In 1942 he was conscripted to the Army for 5 years where he became a Motor Mechanic.
In 1948 he worked as a mechanic at Five Ways Garage - The Junction for a year before joining Klosters in 1949.
In 1960 he became an NRMA Road Service Patrolman which lasted for 25 years.
Some words and verse by Alan Beard.
Our club visited country locations around New South Wales on eight occasions. Wherever we went, it seemed that Roy had gone before. Hence the following verse.
In the Steps of Roy Abbott.
Remember when we left Dubbo and headed eastward home,
And spent some time in Duneedo, and took the time to roam
Around the town, then stayed for lunch, and heard a great bush poet,
Well Roy Abbott had gone before, although we didn’t know it.
In days long gone, when Roy was young , and times were tough it’s true,
He’d been a Duneedo farm hand, a kind of jackaroo,
So in a way we came along without suspecting aught
In Roy’s footsteps, years down the track, we came where once he wrought.
Then later still in world war two, Canberra was his home,
For two years there, based at Duntroon,he had no chance to roam,
He served his time, we won the war, our Roy had done his duty.
Last year we followed in his steps, our Probus trip a beauty.
And now again, as history, repeats itself once more,
We follow in his steps again, our Roy was to the fore,
And while we plan our visit to Nundle’s tempting clime,
Roy again, was there before, years before our time.
Yes, Roy lived as a farm-hand, on a Nundle district farm,
He worked all week on farm jobs, keeping stock from doing harm
By pushing down the fences, or getting at the hay,
And chopping weeds and firewood, from dawn to end of day.
And when the week was over, his boss would leave for town,
And Roy was left all by himself, he couldn’t settle down
Or find some friends to pass the time, he’d nowhere else to go,
And his cooking skills were lacking, so meals were scratchy – so.
When lunchtime came he’s boil an egg, or maybe two or three
At least his cooking skills could cope, with that complexity,
And in the eve, when day was done, and dinner time had come.
He’d boil some more, or maybe four, depending on his tum.
When morning came he’d chase the cow, and place her in the stall,
And take her milk, all creamy froth, until he had it all,
And for a change at breakfast time, so life would be more tasty,
He’d take some milk, and add an egg, a breakfast for the hasty.
Now thankfully, this life of toil, at last came to an end,
And Roy moved on to other things, and fate stepped in to send,
An angel down to rescue him, a splendid sight to Roy,
Her name in fact was Margaret, and she took charge of our boy.
She plied him with her biscuits, she was a first class cook,
And never once did she boil eggs, she knew what toll eggs took
On Roy’s young life out on the farm, when all but he had flown,
When Roy was left quite lonesome, on that farm at Nundle town .