Chapter 3          Written / Published  20.11 /  24.11.14        Pics by author, unless indicated

      HOME                    THE  WINNER GAVE  IT  ALL              Given your all - Now what?

How welcome is this rain, falling steadily as I write, giving Adelaide's dry landscape and gardens a wonderful soaking! Our state is having its best rainfall in many months. 


In this chapter you will read about weather in another state of Australia, Queensland. It came at a time and place, with amazing accuracy, during what was described as Australia's most important meeting ever - Code Number 7 2x10. I saw the lighter side of the G-20 in Brisbane, having some fun with A B C, Angela, Barack and a Cross.


Any doubters about what I write is true, in perfect timing the word truth reached my ears. Was a supernatural power confirming that HE is the truth?



3.  EL Holy Cross

On the evening before commencing this chapter I went to bed unusually early. Every bone in my body was aching, exhausted after a long, yet very enjoyable bike ride through the Adelaide Hills. 

A friend Steve, a fellow volunteer at the second-hand shop, and I had been pedalling our bikes all day, after having caught the train to Seaford. Looking out of the window, without having to worry about traffic, is the most enjoyable part of a train ride. And what amazing things one sees! Passing through the rail yards at Mile End a locomotive was parked. In huge letters on the side PL1.


PL stands for Pacific Line. But why such huge letters?  Graves in the background!      (Photo:

Even before I had written any books, the letters P L were significant in my life, symbols of my profession - Driver Education.

<<< Learners / Provisional Driver

 Power   -   Love   Later, the fate of a man, his fight for justice, entered my world. His initials were  P L. The letters have become a symbol of all that is wrong with our justice system!


The train line had only recently been electrified and extended, crossing the Onkaparinga River on a impressive, new bridge. The inside of the carriage was spotlessly clean. All looked brand new. Compared to the last time I travelled on a train, a year or two earlier, this was luxury. Back then I could barely see out of the cracked, dirty windows,

From Seaford we took the rail-trail (a former railway line, now bike trail) and cycled through the beautiful vineyards in the McLaren region to Willunga. I would have preferred to enjoy the easy route back along the coastline, but Steve talked me into tackling Willunga Hill and returning to Adelaide via Mount Lofty.

In the midday heat the climb was strenuous, but the views worth the effort. Every January this section of road is part of the international bike race, the Tour Down Under. It was hard to imagine, how athletes would sprint up this hill, sometimes in over 35 C heat, and race to the finish line at the top!

When I think of our Tour Down Under, one statistic always comes to mind: In the past two years I went and watched six individual races (stages) of the weeklong events. On each occasion Andrei Greipel won, except the People's Choice Classic in 2014, when Andrei was just beaten by fellow German Marcel Kittel. (Maybe I should go to each race next time?)

Steve and I didn't race up Willunga Hill. At our age we were just thankful that we were healthy enough tackle it. Once the mountain was conquered it was a fast pace along scenic Brookman Road, through Kuipto Forrest to Meadows, Echunga and back to Adelaide via Mylor and Stirling. I was only ten minutes late for the Christmas choir practice!


<<<  Arriving in Stirling at 5 pm, elevation nearly 500 m.  We had endured the hills in the heat!

<<< Only on scanning did I notice the registration plate of the overtaking vehicle. 


Will I ever get over registration plates? ISSO is a long-standing code; (more to come in this chapter). But what was to come that evening had more to do with 5AA.

The S105 AA... fits perfectly into the picture. Only hours after the photo was taken. I had experienced serendipity at its best. It all started with a broadcast on Radio 5AA:

Having retired to bed very early, I must have been asleep only an hour or two, when my wife beside me asked: "Are you awake?" Now I was!

She had been listening to Jeremy Cordeaux* and overheard a brief segment called On this Day ...  Jeremy, according to my wife, had mentioned that on this day, 19.11 in 1984, the shortest driving test took place - one second! 

*This is the same radio personality, who I had contact over a decade ago, during my early struggle for justice. (See Book 1, Ch. 11). Jeremy had been off air for five years, before making a comeback in January 2014.

When I heard - shortest driving test ever - I was even more awake. My wife and I both knew immediately what Jeremy was referring to. How could I ever forget the student, whose driving test made it into the Guinness Book of Records? 

I jumped out of bed, booted up the computer and typed the following message to 5AA:


Hi Jeremy,

Has it been 30 years? You just mentioned - on this day in 1984 - the shortest driving test ever. Well, I was the driving instructor, who presented the pupil, Kim,  for his Driving Test at the Motor Registry in Modbury.

We were running late, so we had no choice but to take the only car park available, which was bit of a squeeze.

The examiner was Rick Chattaway, a very strict officer, but with obviously some humour. He had to apply the dual brakes on reversing out of the parking space, because my pupil turned the wheel too early, too sharply.

Rick submitted the incidence to the Guinness Book of Records, which promptly published it.

Ironically, moments before your comment on radio, I was thinking if this particular person had replied to an email I had sent him. This person in none other than that learner driver, now in his 50's. We both still live in the same suburb, Para Hills, and are still keeping in touch.

I thought I boot up my P/C to tell you this, and check, if my friend had answered my email (negative).

Kind regards

Dieter Fischer, Driving Instructor (ret). Para Hills.


It did not take long, listening on the transistor, before JC's assistant came on air and read out my message. Both seemed pleased and genuinely surprised at the co-incidence, as was I, of course.

But that wasn't all that night. Shortly afterwards I heard another name mentioned during the same radio program - Ian Wilson. My brain can't recall the details, but after Jeremy mentioned this name and that he was a politician, it immediately brought up another incidence during a driving lesson. This one happened in 1993. 

I only know the year, because that's when this person first entered Parliament. Today Christopher Pyne is Minister for Education and Leader of the House in the Abbott Government. 

A young female driving student was telling me excitedly about her boyfriend. The evening before he had been pre-selected to run for Federal Parliament in the seat of Sturt.

Christopher had achieved the impossible, according to his girlfriend. He won the party vote against the long-serving, sitting Member, who was 35 years his senior. His name - Ian Wilson.

- - - - - - - 

Sturt backward reads >>> Truts, inserting h we arrive at truths. The word truth is almost as powerful as love. Imagine, if all were to love the truth, search for the truth, pursue and always tell the truth? How much more harmonious the people on our planet would live together!

I regularly see truth when I ride my bicycle home from my regular table tennis afternoon, as I did on Monday 17.11.14. On the ground I spotted something red. When I recognized what it was, a fire lighter, I turned and photographed it, as well as the location:


<<< Fire-lighter on roadway, corner Ruth Ct.

Note the brand - BIC. 

        RUTH CT  >>>

I had been riding by this street many times; even picked up a client once from this short cul-de-suc. Love the message: See truth*! 

Jesus came to light a fire in our hearts, not to make us comfortable! Seeing the truth may upset us, but ..

"You shall know the truth and the truth shall set you free." (John 8,32).

*Amazing, here is the truth: The second I typed the word truth, out of the P/C speakers came these lyrics: "Three wise men seeking truth..."


(I am listening to the CD of the songs our Christmas Choir will perform on Dec. 13.)

Hey? Chapter 3, Book 13! 3 wise men / Dec. 13.

The lyrics continue: "...had travelled from afar, hoping to find the Child from heaven." 

May you this Christmas seek the truth. If you're not afraid of truth, and let your mind travel into new territory, you will find the Child from heaven. HE will light a fire in your heart, which will burn into all eternity! 

- - - - - - -

Anyone watching television, while eating breakfast, will be amused at some of the items presented. How could a reporter in the UK keep a straight face, when telling viewers that statistics had shown that Britains eat 7 % less cheese on toast than they did 2 (?) years ago? 

Why bother us on the other side of the globe with such useless information? And how on earth did they come to that conclusion? As we all know, 77% of all statistics quoted are made up on the spot.

Another morning I was watching a segment, where hairy men were going through the agony of having body hair removed. It looked so painful. And why bother, I thought? Who would be spending money on such nonsense? These kind of males would have to be rich and vain, or both; certainly wise men would not bother!

Don't scientists love men with thick, black hair all over their body! They can much more easily convince us all that our ancestors were gorillas.

Watching the segment on TV I could not help, but engage my funny gear. I had discovered long ago that on my chest grew one solitary hair. Not two, but one single chest hair. I don't know how long it's been growing, but it had absolutely never been of any use whatsoever - until that morning. 

Unbuttoning my PJs it took me a while to locate it, but there it was! Thanks to modern technology and the invention of selfies, I snapped a picture:


<<< The authors only chest hair! (It's the truth, no roller was used to curl it into a C.)


My email ended with this: "This is genuinely my only chest hair, and please note, the photo is copyright!" 

 - - - - - - -

After our obligatory family Sunday lunch I asked my mother-in-law Agnes Rose if she would like to go for a drive through the Adelaide Hills or down to the beach. She declined. My wife Isabella, no Isobel, likewise showed little enthusiasm for the idea. 

It was Sunday October 5th. The weather was calm, sunny; the temperature 27.7 C, too nice to stay home. I mounted my Giant bicycle and rode up Main North Road, wondering where I might end up. Little did I know it would be a cemetery. As much as I disliked hills, for some reason, that day I turned right to climb up Black Top Road toward One Tree Hill.

Not far from the township the road ahead looked wet. Surely, it could not have been raining here? As I got closer things started to happen, out of the blue, (if you pardon the pun). What had looked like water was actually a large area on the roadway, which must have had at one time blue paint spilled all over it. 

For a few seconds I cycled on, until the sign Johnson Rd. started to ring a bell. Next I noticed two motor cars coming from the opposite direction.  Both were blue in colour, not quite the same, but blue they were. There had hardly been any traffic that afternoon, and  the colours of automobiles, in modern times, are anything but colour - white, grey, silver etc, not conducive to road safety.)

I dismounted my bike and took a two photos:


<<< Johnson Rd. One Tree Hill, October 5th, 2014.

The discoloured roadway must have been caused by a paint spillage, possibly weeks earlier.

My mind recalled another sign - Johnson St. over in the USA. I had had fun with a radio host, who called a listener Johnson one moment, and Jonathan the next! (Bk. 11, Ch. 2).

What came next blew my mind: I had not even packed away my camera, matter of fact, I was changing bike tubes, the other had gone flat, when my phone rang. It was, you guessed it, my son Jonathan. (RD SON JON.)

<<<  My Giant, blue bottle and blue helmet

I took another photo at that spot. The matching blue colour of my helmet made me do it. Note the brand: SONIC. 

Guess, who gave it to me: My son Jonathan! 


Back home I looked up the Johnson Street incident in my Book 11. I noticed that I had photographed and mentioned a registration plate. You can see it right next to the Johnson Street sign - 501 NTP. 

More 510 was waiting for me that Sunday afternoon, October 5th. My ride, climbing another hill, took me past the Uleybury School Museum. Just around the corner I discovered something new. A solid stone wall, an heavy iron gate, hid the ancient Uleybury's cemetery.

It was too early to go home, why not a little peeping among the greave sites? Most graves were totally neglected. The last funeral must have been decades ago. But some headstones were still readable. One large one showed several, interesting names.


Grave stone at Uleybury Cemetery

Agnes Isabella, 9.4.09.

Now you see, why earlier I wrote my wife's name, the daughter of Agnes, as Isabella. (Read on for a 9 4 twist).

Isabella Grace nee (Bowman) 5.10.15.

Without even knowing this person, if the date was her birthday, I visited her grave 99 years later.


(Note how the date holds I550 plus one!)

- - - - - - -

In a recent chapter I alluded to an old school friend, who was to visit us from Germany. I had first written about this man in Book 8. (He is shown in the class photo from 1964 in Bk.8, Ch.14.)

At the time I wrote the book the amazing co-incidences didn't stop coming. There was code 5:1, there were the letters ER *EL and, most significantly, the name SOHN, son in English. If I recall correctly this led me to uncover the peculiarity of - NOS SON.

*On writing here I discovered something else, not thought of before: EL in Spanish means THE - He [on the] cross!

EL in Hebrew is used as the name for God - EL Shaddai etc. (Read on for a missing el.) 

This school friend, together with his wife ELLA, (yes, the first half of her name is EL) arrived in Adelaide from Alice Springs at 15.30 hours on Tue 28.10.14. When Germans visit South Australia, many include a trip to Kangaroo Island. Like many locals, my wife and I had never been there. 

For this reason we took up their offer to travel with them to explore this 'nature's Paradise' for a few days. Their plan to travel straight from Adelaide airport to the island worked out very well, except it did not leave much time in their itinerary to see much else of South Australia.


One of the attractions for visitors from Europe is Australia's unique wildlife. One of the best, unspoiled places for the experience is Kangaroo Island, 1/2 hours by car, then 3/4 hour by ferry from Adelaide. Our visitors had not seen a Koala bear before. Sadly, the first they saw were dead on the road.


At Seal Bay we took the board walk, instead of the expensive tour with a guide to the beach. Through the wooden floor I took a picture of this seal. We could not have gotten as close to an animal on the beach. Wildlife Rangers take the protection and comfort of these popular locals very seriously.

<<< My friend and I at Remarkable Rocks.

The highlight of K.I. was a daytrip to Flinders Chase National Park. The weather was superb, the scenery spectacular. Our nature-loving friends watched the seals and sea lions for what seemed hours.

Another feature of the park was the Admirals Cave. The climb down the stairs was well worth the effort.

<<<  Pair of Cape Barren Geese (bottom of picture)

These geese are one of the rarest species in the world. They breed on the offshore islands of Southern Australia. During the summer months they migrate to the mainland for richer grazing land.


At the tourist information car park (on 30.10) we got talking to a couple from Hannover, who had shipped their campervan, a Peugeot Boxer HD I 30  from Germany. Our visitors spent quite some time talking with their fellow country men about their travel experiences.


Our accommodation for three nights was a comfortable, large, modern house. The location, a few hundred meters on an unsealed road from a locality called Cygnet River, was perfect for a quiet get-away in the country; no facilities, except a tennis court and a phone box. The house was initially very hard to find, arriving in the dark. (Boxer Road is not named on Google Maps, I have reported the omission.)

There was a television available, but we did not watch much. One brief item, however, took my attention enough to get the story: For the first time in the history of the Melbourne Cup a German horse was taking part. Not only was it the first time for a German horse, he was one of the favourites to win.

I caught a glimpse of Number 13 on the horses side. (I had just published the beginning of Book 13).The horse, named Protectionist, was 5 years old. (13 and 5 go well together.)

A week later, our visitors had moved on, I did what is a tradition for a true blue Aussie. I stopped for a few minutes, pretended to be interested in horse racing and watched the Melbourne Cup on television.

At the time I was on duty at our second-hand shop. But there is no TV. So where could I go and do my true blue Aussie duty?

Aha! Why not at my mother-in-law? She was in temporary care at a nearby aged-care facility. The old lady had other things on her mind besides a horse race. Nevertheless, the residents had all gathered in the decorated hall; like every year, Melbourne Cup Day was carnival day. 

It was the one, who would draw the winner, of course. Melbourne Cup and betting on a horse, go together like horse and rider. Every resident in the hall had been allocated a horse. Whose entry was going to win and take home the big teddy bear?

Take a look at my diary entry for Nov. 4th, and the horse my mother-in-law (Ma) had drawn:

Ma had No. 9 Royal Diamond, it was 4th at the beginning of the race!


Q: Why would I find those numbers so exiting? (Clue: The lady we call Ma, in her 94th year on earth, is called Agnes).

   (Photo : TV Channel Seven)

Not since Makybe Diva, who won the Cup a third time in 05, did a horse race interest me. This was special. The German Horse did not disappoint. It won by three lengths. It caused a sensation; a windfall for its owners. 

Sadly, the favourite horse Admire Rakti died soon after the race. Another, Araldo, spooked by a flag waving race goer, broke a leg and was put down that same day. 

When I first saw Protectionist a week earlier, as mentioned, I saw its number - 13. On race day, above, it featured No. 5. For the owners and jockey Ryan Moore a dream came true? Our Advertiser Newspaper the next day featured a fat headline: Deutsch Courage!

- - - - - - -

Another powerful German made headlines five days later. On November 9th Angela Merkel, the German chancellor walked along the Berlin Wall, marking the 25th anniversary of its destruction. "The fall of the wall has shown us that dreams come true," Merkel commented. In a recent list of important people she came in at No.5 (like the other winner above), the most important woman in the world.


(Picture: ABC TV)

Note how everyone in the picture seems to be holding, or is looking at a mobile phone! 


Text on screen "It is understood that around 5,000 people crossed the wall and more than 130 died in the attempt.

 <<< A smiling Number 5 shakes hands with happy Berliners.





Above: After the fall of the Berlin wall, pieces such as this one became a popular souvenirs. A friend sent us this one in 1990.



- - - - - - -

A news item about the German Chancellor was screened on our ABC TV one morning recently. The reporter pronounced her first name Anga. My bi-lingual brain switched on immediately, thinking - "the el is missing."

Since the lady's surname ends in el, all that remains is Merk. In German 'Merk [Dir das] translates to: Take note! If the missing el were simply a nanosecond break in transmission, the incident would be no less - well... amazingly amusing!

One week later Angela Merkel was shaking hands with happy Australians and Heads of Government from around the globe. A much anticipated event, labelled the most important meeting ever in Australia, made waves well before the official start on November 15th.

Certain dates and places in my diaries stand out. One of these is Nov 15 (N I55O?), Brisbane, Queensland. I had arrived by plane in that city on that date in 2008. (Bk.7, Ch. 14). Long term readers will recall how I had experienced the worst storm ever, while camping.

The G-20 was to be held in that same place, Brisbane, Queensland. Six other Heads of Government, besides the club of 20, were also invited to attend. Among them John Key (nice name) of New Zealand and Myanmar's Thein Sein (Mr. 5one?)

After I had become aware that the big event was scheduled for 15 and 16.11, my level of interest rose considerably. What a co-incident, I thought, that the world's most influential people, who control 85% of the world's economy, would meet in that place at that time!

Considering the tumultuous protests during previous gatherings, authorities expected similar demonstrations. Police numbers were boosted, soldiers mobilized to assist and no-go zones were created to restrict access. According to Wikipedia the event was the largest ever peace-time police operation. (One news channel reported 9000 police and 600 soldiers were on duty).


   US helicopter flying over Brisbane, Qld.

 Picture: Channel Nine TV


US President Obama arrived in US Airforce One, bringing his own security with him and two Marine One (helicopters.)



The No. 210 - 2 x 10 fitted well into the bigger picture.

Another snippet of information made me smile. The President was staying at the Marriott Hotel. That name stirs up distant thoughts of landing at LAX International Airport in 2003 and by mistake take a very short bus ride to a Marriott Hotel and return (Bk.1 Ch. 65).

Police surprised themselves during the Brisbane G-20, how well any riots and demonstrations were kept under their control. They had prepared for hundreds of arrests and weekend court sittings, even erected dozens of extra holding cells, which in the end they never had to use.

The absolute star of the show (I was tempted to write circus) was US President Obama. Addressing a crowd of invited guests at the University of Queensland, the world's most influential man displayed his trademark charm and humour.

He started by saying that he had travelled 15 000 miles that week and didn't know what time it was. He bragged a little about his 31 Million followers on Twitter and called the host city BrisVegas. But it was his reference to being thirsty, needing a beer, which amused me the most. 

You see, a day later the weather forecast, for the second day of the G-20, was for a record 40 degrees C, which would have been the hottest November day since 1968.

There was another reason I smiled, when I learned the forecast temperature during the G-20 Summit. As mentioned, the US President had joked about needing a beer. The brand he mentioned is called XXXX, or Four X. If not in a bottle, the President got 4 X in the weather!


US President Obama speaking at the University of Queensland, Friday November 14th, 2014.

- - - - - - -

Another discovery, surrounding the forecast temperature in Brisbane:

How remarkable - Brisbane's 40 C = 4000.

Brisbane's postcode 4000.

- - - - - - -

I don't believe it was co-incidental that God chose the time and place, where world leaders had gathered, discussing the world's climate, to make a show of the weather! God speaks in many ways, if only His people would see, hear and heed it!

A rather different approach to adverse climate, drought and famine is found in the scriptures:

"If My people who are called by My name will humble themselves, and pray and seek my face, and turn from their wicked ways, then I will forgive their sin and heal their land." (2 Chronicles 7,14)

Wouldn't that cause a riot - suggesting to open every United Nations Meeting with prayer?


- - - - - - -

During one of the many TV news reports, one journalist was standing on a Brisbane street, microphone in hand, giving details of dignitaries arriving, security measures taken etc. In the background I noticed a truck driving by. The writing, in large letters on the side, was most interesting: Holy Cross Laundry.

According to their website the Holy Cross Laundry  Service is run by the Sisters of Mercy. It has been in operation for over 120 years. What a nice name for a group of Sisters and their cleaning service!  





One death over 2000 years ago, on an old-rugged, holy cross, became a holy laundry. The Father of Mercy, God, provided cleansing, total forgiveness, freedom from guilt and shame and self condemnation for all who believe.

How good it is, a fresh start with a clean sheet!

To heal his nation, President Obama does not need 4 X. He and his people only need ONE.


Chapter 4