It was a tremendous pleasure sharing with each of the women in this chapter.

Auntie Kath Nichols, who lived in what was destined to be a ghost town in the northern South Australia with Twiggy Minupus, a kitty Aunty Kath claimed was affected with radiation from atomic tests to the west.

Maud Close, with stories of woking in tin mines with the Chinese in 1907, the Top End railway, and the bombing of Darwin.

And The Goat Lady of Bulong, Hilda Jarvis, living with hundreds of goats in Western Australia in what, without her, would be another ghost town.

Now I want to present to you a time capsule.

It’s a radio documentary I prepared in 1972, for the ABC.

Back then it’s title was, ‘The Urban Aborigine’ , and you’ll find the word 'aborigine' features strongly thoughout

For many Aboriginal people, that word is no longer considered appropriate.

Because of historical connotations, to use that word for indigenous Australians seems to lengthen the distance between ‘them’ and ‘us’, between me the white person, and you the black person. It’s considered dehumanising.

Personally, since it was the common term right up until the 50’s and 60’s when I grew up, I still have to remind myself to be more considerate.

I witnessed so many appalling interactions between our two races in the bush. And I’m dismayed in recent years, sensing the undercurrent of disinterest through to outright dismissal from so many of my fellow Australians.

So I feel it’s increasingly important for every step that I can take to be more in keeping with the feelings of my brothers and sisters, the descendants of the oldest living culture on earth.

But yes, keeping this 1972 time capsule historically accurate, the word aborigine does feature.

My subjects were reflecting what they saw as a change coming, back then in 1972, to how the larger Australian society perceived the Aboriginal people.

The voices yo’ll hear are: Mrs Olga Fudge, who moved to Adelaide from Point McLeay mission, in 1912; Mrs Elphick from Point Pearce, who was then working with the Adelaide Aboriginal Cultural Centre; Adelaide born Mrs Natasha McNamara; a lecturer in Business Studies; Bert Clarke, former stockman, then with the Adelaide Aboriginal Cultural Centre; university student Gloria Brennan, born outback Western Australia; Mrs Lela Rankin, formerly of Point McLeay Reserve, who was researching Aboriginal music at the University of Adelaide.

And weaving throughout this presentation was the work of singer-songwriter Bob Randall, otherwise known as Uncle Bob.

Bob, an elder of the Yankuny-tjatjara people of Central Australia, was widely respected for his vigorous community work, in various parts of Australia, most especially in education.

This episode has everything:

A road trip. (Well, on mainly dusty tracks) across three quarters of Australia.

Memorable encounters with remnants of Aboriginal tribes – two of whom were the last speakers of a number of ancient languages.

The horrifying squalor of a fringe dwellers' camp, and the grief of young parents whose children were taken.

The endless, almost bendless Nullabour Railway,

A fascinating interview with an anthropologist – Kato Muir – who is also the descendant of some of the last Aboriginal people to emerge from the desert, into the world of white man.

Ah, but there’s more! And it’s bizarre! In the same spot where the last of the Aboriginal people emerged into the 20th Century, a Japanese terror group would later prepare for their deadly nerve gas attack on a Tokyo subway.

So this episode of Red Dust Tapes stretches you from cultures going back to the Iast Ice Age, to malevolent use of modern technology.