Having grown up a Sydneysider, the history of that 78ERS is well known to me. In fact, I can’t think of the Sydney Mardi Gras without remembering the efforts of the men and women that paved the way for the liberal minded country we live in today.

To say my father was good man would be a lie. I remember him in a series of flashbacks, moments of violent domestic mayhem and toothy smiles, followed by a gentle pat on the head. When he died of massive brain injuries I was relieved.