Charlie Mead sitting on the bench he donated, and installed, in the Southern Aurora Memorial Garden in Violet Town.
Photo by
Simon Ruppert
I first met Charlie Mead on Monday, July 17, 2017.
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It was my first day working at the Benalla Ensign in our old Carrier St office, and I heard a jovial voice coming from the front desk.
“You’ve got to come and meet Charlie,” I was told.
Walking to the front, I was met with a beaming smile, and an outstretched hand.
A sight I would become used to.
Charlie was a regular fixture in the Ensign office, popping in each week to grab his copies of the Kyabram Free Press, Benalla Ensign and Shepparton News.
And with every visit, there was a catch-up and a chance to hear stories of his work on the railways, his history in Benalla and his love of life.
He always had a smile on his face, and always inquired how my family was.
We felt privileged, in the Ensign office, that Charlie visited so often.
After many years, we found out how many others in Benalla were also on his weekly rounds.
He was a popular, well-loved man.
Walking down the street with Charlie took some time, given the number of people who would stop him to say hi.
His passion for the railways and for all his friends was a beautiful thing.
Charlie Mead (centre, looking at camera) at the Southern Aurora crash site in 1969.
Photo by
Contributed
For many years, he would sit on the platform at Benalla Station with blankets to give to cold travellers.
He was a first responder at the Southern Aurora crash near Violet Town; his work there would have saved many lives.
He had a passion for the Southern Aurora Memorial Garden, and was there concreting in a new bench only a few years ago.
He wasn’t just a bystander when it came to the things he loved, he would get actively involved, despite his age.
I didn’t only see Charlie at work. After moving to Faithfull St in 2018, he became a neighbour.
I’d often see him at the bus stop while walking my dogs.
Charlie's papers, waiting to be picked up, in the Ensign office
Photo by
Simon Ruppert
I’d offer him a lift into town, but he was looking forward to seeing the bus driver, and the other regular passengers.
I saw Charlie last week, and as I shook his hand and held the door open for him, I had no idea it would be for the last time.
When I saw a text message last night (June 17) I couldn’t believe my eyes.
I knew his age, but just assumed Charlie would be around for ever.
This morning, when I arrived at the Ensign office, I grabbed a few papers and instinctively added them to the ‘Charlie pile’.
I then stopped and reflected on the fact Charlie would not be coming in to get them.
The pile of papers is still there. I’m not quite ready to remove the ‘Charlie pile’.
After the news of his passing reached Facebook, I took time to read all the comments.
Charlie touched many lives, and will be missed by a lot of people.
His smile will be missed, but he will never be forgotten.
Vale Charles James ‘Charlie’ Mead, December 22, 1938 to June 16, 2026.
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