Their story
A warm kitchen, an open door, and always room for one more.
Evelyn was born in the Adelaide Hills in the autumn of 1944, the second of four children and, by all accounts, the one most likely to bring home a stray animal. She carried that instinct—to notice what needed caring for—through every part of her life.
She met Peter at a Saturday night dance in Norwood. He asked her for the last dance, then walked her three suburbs home because neither had enough change for the bus. They married in 1967 and built a life shaped by family dinners, beach holidays, spirited card games and a garden that refused to stay within its beds.
Evelyn taught primary school for more than thirty years. Former students still remember the reading corner in her classroom, the handwritten birthday cards and her firm belief that nobody was “bad at maths”—they simply hadn’t found their way into it yet.
To her family, she was Mum, Grandma Ev, keeper of every birthday, maker of impossible pavlovas, and the person you rang when the world felt wobbly. She listened without hurrying. She laughed without holding back. She loved in a way that made people feel both known and entirely welcome.
