When Peter Chamberlain approached The News about a tribute article for his mother, Beth Chamberlain, he wasn’t doing it for her.
“She wouldn’t have wanted it, but the people in the community would,” he said.
And that’s how Beth lived her life — a quiet force of community spirit who sought no accolades, gave unconditionally and never expected to receive anything in return.
Beth died on Monday, April 14, aged 103, and her wishes were to be cremated with no service held.
Half of her ashes were to be spread at Cape Paterson, where her husband rests, and the other half were to be scattered in Nyah West, the place where she grew up.
Beth Chamberlain was born in Nyah West on September 16, 1921, the eldest child of five born to Jack and Una McGregor.
The family lived on a soldier settler’s block with a vineyard that produced dried fruit such as sultanas, almonds and grapes.
Beth’s education began at Presbyterian Ladies College in Melbourne, where this humble farm girl hobnobbed with urbanites and was expected to act ladylike.
If only they knew that back home, she was hunting, shooting and fishing with her father and siblings, Greg, Warwick, Fay and Jock.
Except on Saturdays — those were reserved for Girl Guides.
After primary school, Beth was accepted into Mac.Robertson Girls’ High School and later attended Stott’s Business College in Melbourne before securing a position at 3SH radio station in Swan Hill.
There, she became friends with journalist Harry Chamberlain.
Friendship soon turned into fondness, and the couple married at Scots’ Church in Melbourne on April 4, 1942, during wartime.
Harry served in the Royal Australian Air Force, which kept them apart for four years.
Beth, always eager to help, also served by decoding messages from navy ships.
After Harry returned, they settled in Heidelberg and later Montmorency, where they raised their children: Peter, Gillian (deceased) and Katy.
“She was a very outgoing and social person,” Peter said.
“She volunteered in everything, and she’s been like that ever since I can remember.”
Beth earned true ‘Supermum’ status as she balanced housework with volunteer work.
She served on the school committee, continued her role as a commissioner for the Girl Guides, joined the National Trust, rubbed shoulders with eccentric art lovers at the National Gallery of Victoria and was a life member of the Genealogical Society of Victoria.
In 1984, Harry and Beth moved to Shepparton.
During retirement, Harry spent his time recording his love for classical music on to tapes, and after he died in 1995, those tapes brought great comfort to Beth and stirred cherished memories of their 53 years together.
Though grief is universal, Beth’s volunteer work was something else — and it did not go unnoticed.
She received an award for meritorious service from the Shepparton Heritage Society, the Emu Award for excellent service from the Girl Guide Movement, and she was a founding member of Shepparton Probus.
She was also featured in the book Leadership for Life, celebrating 100 years of Guiding in Australia.
As busy as she was, Beth made time to satisfy her restless creative energy by crafting beautiful quilts with the Shepparton Patchwork and Quilters Group.
One of her notable projects was a family tree wall hanging, which was exhibited at the Immigration Museum in Melbourne.
Her commitment to the arts extended to the Shepparton Art Museum.
Danny Lacy, the former curator, remembered working with Beth from 2010 to 2012 and described her as a “shining light” who brought sensitivity and depth to her role.
“During that time at SAM, we relied heavily on volunteers, and she was always one to put her hand up,” he said.
“(The most memorable thing about Beth) was not a single memory but more just her warm personality.
“Each person, she would give the time of day.”
One of those people was Frances Newbound.
Somewhere in the drawers of memory, Frances recalled the day she first met Beth.
It was 1983, and Frances had just moved from Chiltern to Congupna.
“I saw an ad in the paper for a meeting at the historical society, so I went, and Beth was one of the first people I met,” Frances said.
“She asked me who I was and where I’m from, and then she said, ‘What else are you interested in? Would you be interested in the art gallery?’”
Together, they volunteered at the local gallery, the historical society, the Trefoil Guild, and the U3A, forging a friendship that would last a lifetime.
And friends don’t let friends travel solo.
“If Beth and I went to Melbourne, we’d stay somewhere in the city and go to whatever we’d gone to see — whether it be a show or an art gallery — but we’d always go to Fella Hamilton,” Frances said.
Just as Beth welcomed Frances to her vast orb of community organisations, Frances introduced Beth to her world of harness racing.
“Beth wasn’t a horsey person, but a group of us were going to Western Australia for the Inter Dominion Carnival, and so she decided she’d come with us (she was over 90 at the time),” Frances said.
“That was quite an adventure — we all had a good time, and we taught her what the tracks were all about.
“I don’t think she’d ever been to a trotting meeting in her life, and she went all the way to WA for her first one!”
Frances smiled at the memories, fuzzy as they were.
Years ago, Beth’s own memories were put to paper by her daughter Gillian, who, before passing away, sat down with Beth to document their family history.
In recounting dates and events, Gillian wrote, “All this is leading me to say that I think women of my mother’s ilk are very special, though seldom do they receive or seek accolades.
“Mum worked tirelessly and devotedly for her husband, her family and her community.
“Her grandchildren adore her, as do her children — she is quite an act to follow.”