Born in 1969? What else happened? 2025 Edition - Williams, Ron
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g 201 now but their counters never work so i will do more. try thisblurb plnty of blurb. come back to start. must get to 200 characters. keep going i might not yes you will only 77 to go and that seems to be decreasing i do not know how but it is workinh

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g 201 now but their counters never work so i will do more. try thisblurb plnty of blurb. come back to start. must get to 200 characters. keep going i might not yes you will only 77 to go and that seems to be decreasing i do not know how but it is workinh
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Autorenporträt
Ron Williams is a retired teacher, mathematician, computer-man, political scientist, farmer and writer. He has a B.A. from Sydney, and a Masters in Social Work and a PhD in Political Science from Hawaii. This is the 2nd in a series of 31 books about the Social History of Australia from the year 1939 to 1969. He got much of his material from reading the Sydney Morning Herald and the Age/ Argus every day for the given year, and then picking out best stories, arguments and ideas, as well as the trivia. Ron Williams is not the oldest author in Australia. He is not even the oldest author in his home suburb of Wickham. But I contend I am the oldest author living in Wickham in Australia who finished 31 Titles in a series of books that describe the Social History of Australia from 1939 to 1969. That is, over a 31 year period. This is my claim to uniqueness. But nobody cares. I don't care if nobody cares. I am not at all interested in all the folly of fame, or notoriety. I just want to eat my croissants on the porch on Sunday mornings, and enjoy sniffing my little bed of gladdies. And, it is true to say, I enjoyed my researching of the newspapers I used as my source, and whipping the best stories of each year up into a 180 page book. How nice it was to review 1939 Letters to the Editor from the British Times and see the wonderful range of oh-so-English addresses and the double-barrelled names of their writers. How gruelling it was to see the names of dead men filling Page Five on the Papers in WWII and the Korean and Vietnam wars. How delightfully quixotic to realise that the rise in feminism coincided with the incidence of air conditioning in offices. How nostalgic to remember that Bob Menzies never campaigned in classrooms, being smart enough to realise that the scrubbers had no vote. Those golden days are now gone. I have given my quill back to the family duck. It could be that this will be the very last thing I ever write.