Goodbye Danny Carroll.

Danny Carroll, Katriena and I’s father and our mother Atholene’s adored husband of 60 years died with his wife and son at his bedside, holding his hands on April 16 2021 at 11.30pm after a long battle with dementia.

We had a well attended service for him this past Wednesday and I’d like to include here the slide show I made and the eulogy I wrote for his funeral.

Eulogy for Danny Carroll

Daniel Neil Carroll January 17, 1937 - April 16, 2021

Dad was born in Wakefield in 1937 - on the west of Lake Macquarie, a bit west of Fassifern, (that place you wonder why you’re stopping at on the train to Sydney), in a small house his father Neil Carroll had built that had sprung floors that they used to hold regular dances in for everyone in the area on weekends.

They were a timber family - Carrolls Timber - logging up on the Wattagan Mountains and when Dad was young they moved to Crossroads at Glendale where Neil set up a timber mill and a new house. When Dad would tell Katreina and I about it, growing up there, `dinking’ Nick Mitchevitch on the handle bars of his bike down the big hill road into Cardiff and other stories - he would just light up.

He had a great childhood down there from the sounds of it. He was very athletic and ran a lot and was really proud of the races and the long jump he won when he was at Marist Brothers in Hamilton. He’d tell us about how he used to regularly run from the Bay to Anna Bay and back.

They worked hard and long hours and Danny did mens work as he called it, from the age of 12. His mum spoiled him but his Father Neil was tough on him - in a good way because Danny always thrived on hard work.

He really loved and respected his father who was by all accounts one of gods great gentlemen, a visionary businessman and even though he made his money from timber he’d was a true greenie and held in the highest regard in the community. It was something that Danny always tried to live up to.

They moved to the Bay in the early 50’s. Neil saw what the area up here could become and Dad always told Katreina and I as we were growing up that the area was becoming what his father had envisioned - though I think Dad would’ve preferred if it had stayed a bit quieter.

It was an idyllic life in the Bay back then, Neil bought up a lot of land in the area, built some solid brick homes, the first duplex and Louisa Courts, the first high rise in the Bay. Dad worked on it and he and mum lived in the top floor apartment for a year until our family home in Donald Street was built and ready to go into.

Mum met Dad when she was 14 and he was 16 and Alan Moncrief had bought Danny down to the Milk-bar on the corner of Stockton Road and Victoria Parade so the new bloke could meet some of the locals. Mum said she knew meeting him that this was the bloke she was going to marry. She went home, told her mum, who laughed, but she moved heaven and earth and Cynthia Mitchell to make it happen.

Dads mother Johanna was of the very devoted Catholic variety, her and Neil would move out of their homes to let the Catholic brothers from Newcastle and Maitland have a place to stay on their holidays. But Mum, was a bush baptist protestant and that divide between Catholics and Protestants was a big barrier to them getting together in those days - so they eloped and got married on the quiet in 1960. Atholene and Danny Carroll had I think, one of the great romances and last year they celebrated their 60th wedding anniversary. Take that Nanna and Aunty Vida.

Danny Carroll was the only local earthmover in the area from 1957 to 1987 - 30 years!

He and his brother in law Monty Bull cleared much of the land in the area for peoples homes from Lemon Tree Passage to Soldiers Point, Salamander, Corlette, Anna Bay, Nelson Bay, Shoal Bay and around to Fingal Bay.

They cleared the land for about 90% of the roads up here. The Sandhills road, Mambo Creek, Lemon Tree Passage, Bagnalls beach road - which was supposed to go right along the edge of the beach but Danny and his father said no to Lee Geer the Shire Engineer at the time, and built it further back where it is today because Neil said the land along the beaches should be for the people.

Earlier this year, one afternoon - I took Dad for a drive around the water fronts from Soldiers Point around to Shoal Bay and Fingal, at one point we ended up at the road up to Zenith Beach - and through the fog of his dementia he told me `yep, I built this road’. I’ve also heard he might have taken some beach sand from there so he didn’t have to pay the Robinson’s for theirs - but that’s only a rumour.

Danny and Monty worked with Neil on Fly Point Park - They cleared and buried the old army huts and broke up and buried the foundations with much of it buried along Nelson Bay beach to stabilise it. Neil and Danny planted so many trees along the water fronts of Port Stephens, all of the Coral trees that used to line the beach along Nelson Bay, Little Beach and Shoal Bay.

Neil bought hundreds of trees for Fly Point and he Dad and Monty and the Nelson Bay Rotarians planted them all. He cleared the land for the Police boys club and the RSL for no payment. He cleared the land for the Golf Club, a fairway of nine holes and the club house that Neil, who owned the land, sold to the Club committee for a pittance.


Neil owned land next to it as well and gave it to the Council for nothing on the proviso that it was to be used for sporting facilities and Danny cleared the land there where the Nelson Bay Bowling Club and tennis courts are now.

They even started clearing the land to build a by pass to Fingal Bay from out at Anna Bay at Rocky point at one mile.

There was so much of a richness in living in this area and Danny knew so much about the geology of the area, practical knowledge about trees and soil he’d learnt from his father - it was the beginnings of his almost life long interest in Aboriginal history - He and mum knew so much about the implements and middens in the area. And when they went out west in the late 60’s and 70’s they’d stay on country with aborigines out there. He and mum were always great defenders of them, Dad used to get really angry about the missionaries and how they’d ruined the lives of so many of the people out there. He really hated missionaries.

In memoriam at Neil Carroll Rotary Park, Nelson Bay.

A grateful tribute by Nelson Bay Rotary to my father Danny Carroll, the son of Neil Carroll in who’s honour the park is named.

Thank you Warwick and thank you Rotary. It meant so much to us.

Danny was a Rotarian with his father from way back and worked with them on so many projects around the Bay. Katreina and I have so many good memories as kids of going to Rotary working bees, raffles and barbecues. It was about belonging to a community - it seemed like we all knew each other back in the Bay in those days. You couldn’t get away with anything - Dad or mum would end up finding out about it at some point.

But whenever we went with Dad around the Bay he would tell us about something he worked on or his father had done, trees, land… Louisa Courts and our grandparents home next door, were all and still are, constant reminders of our connection to the area.

Katreina and I were only talking about this recently - so much of our own identity was defined by dad. We’d be somewhere and all we had to do was say we were Danny Carroll’s son or daughter and that persons eyes would light up and they’d have us pegged `Ohhh, you’re Danny Carrolls kids are ya?’ and then we’d more often than not get some story about something Dad had done for them or cleared the land for their home. Never - never in all of those years did we ever hear a bad word about our dad.

You might get a story about dad blowing his top about something - which he did… he was known for his forthright opinion and temper. But it was always recounted with affection and humour. He could get cranky - but he wasn’t an angry man.

Well, except if you parked in our driveway in Donald Street. Then it was fair game - Y’see in those quieter days in the Bay, Danny and Monty would park, refuel and maintain the tractors in our front yard - so when dad would come home and find a car parked in the driveway? Well, Mum tells the story of when Danny moved a car parked in the driveway out in the middle of Donald Street once.

I was with him in the big caterpillar front end loader one afternoon and this bloke was parked in the driveway but too busy talking to someone and dismissively waved dad off - So dad crept the loader up behind and slowly lowered the bucket down to mere inches above the car roof of the astonished, red faced and, somewhat irritated man.

Once, some goose parked into the driveway, blocking it off and went away and left the car there. Enough time for Dad to get the backhoe started and put the bucket under the front of the car and then got the front end loader and put its bucket under the back - and then he drove off somewhere. The local coppers had to track him down so the bloke, who you’d imagine must’ve been pretty upset, could get his car out.

But he was straight down the line - if he gave his word you could take it to the bank. There was no room for tardiness - he once told a bloke who was late for a job that the only reason he’d accept for being late - was if he was dead.

He thought the best of people and always gave them a chance, even when they were wrong - up to a point.

His tastes were simple and unadorned - and he loved and held country people in the highest regard.

He knew so many people up here - whenever you went out with him there was always someone saying `G’day Danny’. And he had a core group of mates who were like family to us - Terry Fogg, David Henry, John Stuhmke, Arthur Phillips, Clive Robinson and Dick Burwell.

And he loved kids - he’d always take the time to give kids a ride on the tractor, sit them on his lap and let them drive it. He let them crawl all over them - our favourite time of the year was when the children from the Crippled children society would come for a holiday for a week or two and stay at the Country Club. He used to love that and loved, with his mates in Rotary and our families, giving these kids a holiday they’d never forget.

Our cousin Simone reminded Katreina the other day on how dad would take us downstairs to make popcorn in the electric fry pan he’d put down on the concrete. It’d heat up and when it started to pop he’d take the lid off and we’d run around with butterfly nets trying to catch the popcorn that was flying out everywhere as he roared laughing.

He and mum travelled so extensively around Australia - they saw so much of it and met so many people. Like the bloke they met outback at a truck stop one night who asked to share their fire. It turned out he had the longest milk run in the world - from Townsville to Broome.

Its been a challenge trying to distil the essence of Dad here for us all today - to do his memory justice as he had such an impact on this area and on the lives of his family. He was proud of it - but also very self effacing and quiet about it. He did a lot of good for people but he never boasted about and we his family don’t know of, even today.


Katreina and I are so very proud to be his children - he has guided us with patience and love. There’s been challenging moments as there are in all families - but through it all we’ve always been a close family and always there for each other. Our family bond has been and is today so rock solid and loving and I know he treasured that. 


We are a close family of six now with Katreina’s husband John and Danny and Atholene’s adored grandson Lee. Mate, your grandfather was a legend. He always saw strengths in Katreina and I that we hadn’t yet recognised in ourselves. His faith in us never wavered and god knows I gave him ample opportunity.

He used to talk to me before the dementia took hold of him - about the man he hoped you would grow to be and the choices you make as you grow. He loved you so very much and had such faith in you and the man you will grow to be. I hope you’ll let us share with you the rich heritage of your family.

Mum - you’ve lost your best friend, your great love and soul mate. You cared for him like no one else in the only way you knew how - with a fierce and powerful, compassionate love that has been astonishing to witness. He was always with you through life and I’ve no doubt whatsoever that he’s with you right now and with every step you take. He loved you so much.

It feels like the end of an era with Danny Carroll’s passing.

Thank you everyone for honouring him and our family here today. - If you’ve got anything you’d like to say about dad, a story, a memory, we really hope you’ll share it with us today.