A 37-year-old man by the name of Simon Marks discovered something quite odd. In other words, he has been residing in the same home for a while, but he only lately realized that he was unaware of what was concealed in the home he had purchased a few years prior.
One day, he came upon what he thought to be a flowerbed while attempting to park his car. His car’s wheels became stuck, and from the driveway, he could hear odd cracking sounds.
He said to himself, “Well, this day couldn’t get any worse.”
Marks bent down to investigate the problem more closely and saw that the driveway’s stones had cracked, causing the driver to give way. The sound of the pavers breaking revealed an incredible finding.
After he had cleared away all the dirt, he saw a metal fragment beneath. Marks clutched the metal piece, not knowing what might be underneath the driveway, and attempted to pull it out, but to no avail. Then he circled around to find out more about the enigmatic thing.
He phoned his father for assistance because he didn’t know what to do next. Together, they were able to remove a large amount of tightly packed muck, which finally revealed an opening. The two men descended the ancient, rusted ladder, curious to see where it would take them.
Marks recalled, “My dad saw it and knew right away that it was an air raid shelter.””After searching on Google, we discovered that there are many in this area.”
The shelter they found in Marks’ garden looked to have been constructed during World War II.
According to Marks, “the previous owner must have known it was there and he must have filled it in when he built the house and put a garden in.”
During the war, these shelters were meant to shield civilians from bombing. It is thought that a guy by the name of Sir John Anderson invented them.
A wall has been sealed with bricks. Though we don’t know, I’m ninety percent certain we won’t discover any more chambers. In order to make room for the foundations when the home was erected, they may have bricked up one of the walls, according to Marks.”We’ll just have to leave it if that’s the case,” he continued.
His discovery was captured on camera, and soon his tale went global.
Marks and his father consider the shelter to be a significant historical landmark, therefore they intend to restore it. They contend that although if that era of history is in the past, it shouldn’t be ignored since it gives us a glimpse into bygone times.
Australia’s adopted popstar son Leo Sayer reflects on his career
“I look at my role as being a friend of Canberra Hospital, I can bring some pleasure and happiness sometimes to people who are really in difficult times in their lives.”
With backing music from a Bluetooth speaker, Sayer croons his way around the cancer wards, making a human connection with everyone he comes across.
Canberra Region Cancer Centre Operations Manager Caroline McIntyre says Sayer’s visits are typically kept a surprise for patients and staff.
“He’s always come in so discreetly,” she says.
“Normally it’s just very quiet, he comes up in the back lift and says hello to literally everybody.
“Some of them are doing it tough, and to have a little bit of joy and light – it really gives them a lift.
“What makes me happy is to see people getting chemo on their feet dancing.”
Jamming with Jimi Hendrix, Countdown and the Troubadour
Originally a graphic designer by trade, English-born Leo Sayer rose to pop prominence in London in the late 1960s, as a singer-songwriter – and was soon adopted by Australia as an honorary son after his first tour here in 1974.
He went on to become an Australian citizen in 2009.
Sayer was a regular on ABC TV’s Countdown during the 70s and 80s, performing chart-toppers like “You Make Me Feel Like Dancing”, “When I Need You”, “More Than I Could Say” and “Orchard Road”.
He blushingly admits they were wild days – when he didn’t always live up to his “good-guy” public persona.
“It was mad, I mean, Top of the Pops in England, Countdown over here,” he says.
“You were mobbed by the fans, I remember being dragged out of a limousine the first tour that I came here, and then speaking to crazy people like Molly Meldrum on TV and trying to sort of like take it all in.”
It seems hard to believe – the petite, well-spoken singer, with a mane of curly hair that inspired changing his name from Gerard to Leo – beating off mobs of screaming fangirls.
Sayer circulated in superstar company, becoming close friends with former Beatles George Harrison and Paul McCartney, collaborating with Roger Daltrey of The Who, and even sharing a sly cigarette or two with John Lennon and Yoko Ono who had a flat above his design studio.
“I met Jimi Hendrix right at the start of his career. I actually jammed with him, playing the harmonica, and him playing the guitar,” he says.
Recalling his 1975 opening night at the famous Troubadour Club in Los Angeles, he looked up to see an intimidating line-up of fans in the front row.
“It was David Bowie, Elton John, and ‘The Fonz’ [Henry Winkler].”
Alongside them: John Cleese, Mick Jagger, Bernie Taupin, and comedian Marty Feldman.
“We never thought it would last, we were adapting to things around us, writing songs about things that are around us,” he says.
“And we thought they were only for our generation — so the amazing thing is my music’s become like a fine wine, where you lay it down and years later, it becomes a collector’s item.
“We’re in an age where the music that I make, young kids are actually latching onto it now, and they’re finding that that generation and that style of music we made is as current now as anything.”
Sayer’s health battles, still spreading hope at 76
Leo Sayer says his hospital charity work caps off a career dedicated to providing joy through music.
“It’s a nice piece of synchronicity really, because I was born in the grounds of a hospital in Shoreham by Sea in Sussex, near Brighton in England,” Mr Sayer said.
“I suppose I’ve always felt comfortable in hospitals and being around hospitals.
“Growing up, my dad was a hospital engineer, Mum was a nurse, my sister was a matron.”
Sayer has health struggles of his own, including three stents in his heart, which help him have a genuine connection to the hospital patients he entertains.
“[My music] is providing something that isn’t taking away from any of the treatment that’s going on. It’s providing something that’s just putting a smile on peoples’ faces.
“Music is communication and that’s what this is all about, we’re communicating, we’re making people feel better.
“We’re not healing people with music, but we are making them feel better about their healing.
“To sell out Canberra Hospital will do me fine.”
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