Page 142 - moondani kyema
P. 142
ndani kyema, My Story - Ray Moore 142
The industrial chaplain’s role was not so much a religious one as a social welfare
one. I was given an office in a remote part of the power station and mine complex
and issued with a boiler suit, steel toed shoes, goggles, ear muffs and a hard hat.
This latter had to be worn everywhere except in the office area. I was also given a
pass to drive my car into the restricted area, and told that I had access to any part of
the complex unless it was obviously dangerous. I have always been fascinated by
machinery and and mechanical gadgets, and so wandering through a power station
was engrossing for me.
The woman who had been the chaplain at Yallourn until then was staying for a
couple of days to help me to orientate. She gave me a warning as we went past a
small workshop, never to go in there because they did not like chaplains and had
once thrown a chair at her. After she left I complied with her warning for a week or
two, but then decided that I would enter the lion’s den and see for myself how much
they disliked chaplains.
It was only a small workshop with three or four men in there. I said g’day and told
them who I was. Facing me on the wall opposite, was a montage of pornographic
pictures, and beside it was a blackboard on which someone had drawn various
diagrams of the male sex organs. Instead of ignoring them or letting myself be
embarrassed by them, I decided to meet the challenge head on. “You certainly have
some very interesting wall features” I commented as I studied them openly. They
seemed to relax then and started talking more freely with me. They had some
complaints about previous chaplains, but in the end they accepted me and I made
some very good friends in that workship.
I went in one day to chat with one of them in particular, and he wasn’t there. The one
chap that was there told me that he was absent but if I was to puch a large pinboard
aside which was attached to one of the walls, I would find him. I did so and there
was a hole in the wall leading iinto another room which was otherwise locked and
unused. Here was my friend with some historic letters which he was going through
and using them as the source of information for a local history that he was writing! I
encouraged him as much as I could, but I found this person hard to reconcile with the
chair throwing incident.
Later I shifted to the Hazelwood Power Station, and made a lot of friends there also.
I was employed in this way for two or three days a week for the next three years or
so, and then there occurred an horrific accident at the Longford gas plant near Sale
in which two men were killed. This caused a lot of trauma and I was asked to add a
couple of days a week there as well. I did not enjoy this quite so much, except for the
fact that they had an excellent canteen and also that I was able to hitch a ride on
The industrial chaplain’s role was not so much a religious one as a social welfare
one. I was given an office in a remote part of the power station and mine complex
and issued with a boiler suit, steel toed shoes, goggles, ear muffs and a hard hat.
This latter had to be worn everywhere except in the office area. I was also given a
pass to drive my car into the restricted area, and told that I had access to any part of
the complex unless it was obviously dangerous. I have always been fascinated by
machinery and and mechanical gadgets, and so wandering through a power station
was engrossing for me.
The woman who had been the chaplain at Yallourn until then was staying for a
couple of days to help me to orientate. She gave me a warning as we went past a
small workshop, never to go in there because they did not like chaplains and had
once thrown a chair at her. After she left I complied with her warning for a week or
two, but then decided that I would enter the lion’s den and see for myself how much
they disliked chaplains.
It was only a small workshop with three or four men in there. I said g’day and told
them who I was. Facing me on the wall opposite, was a montage of pornographic
pictures, and beside it was a blackboard on which someone had drawn various
diagrams of the male sex organs. Instead of ignoring them or letting myself be
embarrassed by them, I decided to meet the challenge head on. “You certainly have
some very interesting wall features” I commented as I studied them openly. They
seemed to relax then and started talking more freely with me. They had some
complaints about previous chaplains, but in the end they accepted me and I made
some very good friends in that workship.
I went in one day to chat with one of them in particular, and he wasn’t there. The one
chap that was there told me that he was absent but if I was to puch a large pinboard
aside which was attached to one of the walls, I would find him. I did so and there
was a hole in the wall leading iinto another room which was otherwise locked and
unused. Here was my friend with some historic letters which he was going through
and using them as the source of information for a local history that he was writing! I
encouraged him as much as I could, but I found this person hard to reconcile with the
chair throwing incident.
Later I shifted to the Hazelwood Power Station, and made a lot of friends there also.
I was employed in this way for two or three days a week for the next three years or
so, and then there occurred an horrific accident at the Longford gas plant near Sale
in which two men were killed. This caused a lot of trauma and I was asked to add a
couple of days a week there as well. I did not enjoy this quite so much, except for the
fact that they had an excellent canteen and also that I was able to hitch a ride on
