“The first time I saw him, I didn’t even know what it was.
He had a long white beard and had a white shirt.
I said, ‘I can’t believe you’ve died.
You’ve got such a beautiful beard and shirt’.” The first time he saw him he didn’t think anything of it.
He was a man of the people.
“He was such a great man.
He lived for the people and he died for the country,” she said.
“The world needs more of him.
The country needs more people like him.
I know that I’m not alone in my grief.”
The story of “The Lost Boys” was a big part of the family’s life for decades.
They moved around Australia to escape the Depression and were living on their own.
In 1939, Mr Lobo and his family left Australia, and were then resettled in the South Island of New Zealand, where they would remain until they died.
“My parents would get on a boat and they’d go to sea to New Zealand and stay for two years, and then they would come back,” said Mrs Lobo.
“They were happy.
They had a good life.
They were getting on with their lives.”
After a few years, Mr and Mrs Loro returned to Australia, where Mr Loro’s father was in the military and his mother worked as a seamstress.
The couple married and had four children, but the marriage broke down in 1949, and Mr Loyo was sent to prison in Victoria where he was sent for 10 years.
“I think I was about 18 when I went to prison,” he said.
After five years, he was released from prison, but he was still in prison when he heard about the man who was buried in the community cemetery.
“We were getting to know each other,” he remembered.
“It was a long time before I had a relationship with him, so I was really sad to learn he was gone.”
“I’ve always been a bit of a tomboy.
My mum used to say that I should always be dressed up, dressed up to go out and play, but that I’d never be able to get that out of me,” he continued.
“But it was the same with Mr Lombo.”
Mr Lambo’s father had a “great job”, and the family enjoyed living in a “good community”.
“My mum would say that if you didn’t have a job, you could go out with a group of friends,” Mr Lomba said.
Mr Lillo and his brother, who was born in 1940, moved to Perth in 1967.
“Mr Lobo always loved football and the rugby team.
He liked the boys,” Mr Lobos said.
His mother had a love of painting and Mr Lobo loved photography.
“As a child, I would look at all the pictures and think, ‘This is really neat’,” Mr Loba said, “because it’s like the painting, you can paint on it, and it’s beautiful.”
Mr Lobas would take his brother to museums and see old pictures, and would often watch his brother play.
Mr Lobah’s parents had to take him to see a doctor regularly for health reasons.
“You’d see him, and you’d think, wow, he looks really good,” Mr Lopez said.
He recalled the first time Mr Lolo went to hospital.
“One time he went into the emergency room, and he was in a big wheelchair.
It was a terrible sight,” he recalled.
“All the people in the room were crying.
He said, `I’ve been here before, and I’ve never seen a heart patient before’.” “He said, I’m going to go see the doctor, but I can’t tell him anything about what I’ve seen.”
He was taken to the doctor who gave him a CT scan.
“His heart was really small,” Mr Molloy said.
He couldn’t even talk to me, but told me he’d be okay,” Mr Foy said, and that he’d miss him very much. “
“That was the last time he ever saw his son, because he was so ill.
He couldn’t even talk to me, but told me he’d be okay,” Mr Foy said, and that he’d miss him very much.
Mr Foyle has now died aged 76, having been in a wheelchair since his childhood.
Mrs Foyle said she has been able to visit Mr Loko’s grave a few times, and she has never seen his face. “
People say to me all the time, ‘How could a man be in such pain?’ and I’m like, ‘Well, he couldn’t possibly know that he was going to die,'” Mr Foglie said.
Mrs Foyle said she has been able to visit Mr Loko’s grave a few times, and she has never seen his face.
“In my mind, I just think, how could a person who loved his country