Leading from the front issuu

CALL IT FATE OR
GOOD FORTUNE
by miriam busby
Pat Magill inadvertently changed the course of my life
when he agreed to be the marriage celebrant at my wedding
to Peter Sonntag.
The wedding day was January 3rd, 1985 and was
held in the garden of our family homestead at Rahiri
in Tokomaru Bay. But an hour before the wedding was
to start we realised we didn’t have the marriage certificate.
We thought Pat would have the certificate and
he thought we would have organised that side of things
ourselves.
Quick thinking Pat suggested we pretend to sign
a marriage certificate and that we could sign an official
one later, so long as that was completed within six
weeks. This seemed like a good solution to the dilemma
at the time.
However, after nearly six turbulent weeks of “marriage”
to Peter went by, it became obvious that we
weren’t a compatible pair, and when the time came to
drive to Napier to sign the official marriage certificate, I
had decided I wasn’t going through with it.
Call it fate or good fortune, I was able to extricate myself
from further involvement with Peter, without having
to go through a divorce.
But unfortunately, Pat was told he couldn’t officiate at
any more marriage ceremonies following ours.
Pat has always been a great support to me and my extended
family. He has included me in a lot of Magill family
events. His daughter Mary-Anne and I started nursing
training together at Palmerston North Hospital in 1971
and we are still friends.
Thank you Pat for your quick thinking on my wedding
day. I am eternally grateful to you for being there for me
on that day, and ever since that day.
IMPRESSIONS
OF PAT DOWN
THE YEARS
by nephew
mike o’donnell
Millie the foxy came to town. Such a cool dog.
We never got sick of her trick, “Stick ‘em up” then
“Bang” and down dead she would go, to lie still for
a few seconds.
Bushy Park reunions with Magill’s and O’Donnell’s
were always huge but a bit of a blur.
I remember walking into Gran’s one day at 215
Frankley Road, New Plymouth and Pat was at the
stove cooking in a frying pan. There was a delicious
smell in the air and as I walked past, Pat said, “Have
some of these, Boy.” The pan was full of scallops
cooking in butter and he whipped out a piece of buttered
white bread and with a deft flick of the spatula,
presented me with my first scallop sandwich. I still
remember the taste.
I’m sure Pats 90th will be well covered off but for
me the raffle was a highlight and some of the prizes;
a walk with Pat around the Ahuriri Estuary, the
wetland he helped to protect, picking up rubbish.
And another prize was heading off on a Wednesday
morning, down to the courthouse with Pat to see
what was going on and who might need some help
with the process. Priceless.
(Mike’s brother, Tom, shares his story over the page.)
A big presence in our lives 253