As a graduate student in Australia in the early 1980s, I recall reading the autobiography of A.B. (Bert) Facey, which is entitled A Fortunate Life. The book contains a detailed account of the terrible things that befell Mr. Facey during his life —the death of his father when he was only two, being left in the care of his grandmother while his mother crossed the continent to be with his older siblings, entering the work force at the tender age of eight, being gravely injured at Gallipoli during World War I, losing his farm during the Great Depression, and...

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