Born at Braidwood Hospital on October 15 in 1964 to Don and Gladys Williams, and grandson of Stan and Rosie Williams of Manar, Chris was the fourth of six siblings: David, Kath, Maureen, Michael and Tim.

Chris went to St Bede’s School, Braidwood (1969-1975) at a time when milk was still delivered from Lionel Coffey’s dairy in glass bottles with foil tops. When the roof blew off at St Bede’s, he was so happy he wouldn’t have to go to school, but they moved classes to the infants rooms! He went on to Braidwood Central School (1976-1979), where he enjoyed sport and a good time with friends.

His childhood was like so many others around country NSW in the 1960s and ‘70s. Most playing was outside, coming inside to grab a bite to eat and watch some cartoons on TV. There was plenty of time spent on billycarts, riding poddy calves, bikes and horses, spotlighting, driving cars. And there were always lots of cousins and friends around at home.

The billycarts the boys made ranged from a simple few boards to more elaborate wild affairs. They tore down Gidley Hill at Manar on them, with the boys daring each other to start higher up the hill. When the hill got tarred, the ride down was fast and scary. Nerves of steel and a steady hold on the ropes was needed to get round the curves, especially the last one. Pulling round it at break-neck speed, if they didn’t fly off the road into the bush and gully, there’d be whoops of laughter and triumph as the billycart eased off at the bottom. The bark ripped off elbows and knees and other places repaired, black eyes cleared, and amazingly, no bones were broken on those billycarts or later, on the motorbikes and in the cars. 

Chris worked with his father, Don Williams, to break in horses. Through his whole life, Chris maintained a passion for horses that ensured his children and grandchildren learned to ride. 

In recent years, Chris was invited to a Man from Snowy Mountains ride. Although his health didn’t allow it, he certainly looked the part, with his big hairy beard and his stockman’s hat. The nurses at the Canberra Dialysis Centre, who hadn’t seen Chris for eight years, immediately remembered him, his hat, his long-sleeve flannel shirt, his jeans. A true bushman, they said. 

As a teenager, Chris helped fell and saw the loads of firewood for town, and spent long hours around the boilers distilling eucalyptus oil. Hay carting, drenching sheep and shearing were also ways he earned a few bob to go to town.

After leaving school, Chris tried Goulburn Tech for a while where he met Shirley Rodgers. Chris and Shirley had four children – Vanessa, Sarah, Bill and Katie – who grew up on properties around Manar, Scone, Taralga, Moss Vale and Berridale, where Chris worked as farm hand and sheep shearer.

Chris persevered through times of personal and family tragedy. In 1997, just 33 years old, he was diagnosed with kidney failure. At the beginning of 2003, Shirley collapsed and died of a brain aneurism, just 35 years old, leaving Chris to mourn and care for their four young children. In 2007, a grandchild was still-born. In 2011, he lost – we all lost – daughter Sarah, 23 years old, when she took her own life. 

In 2009, Chris received a kidney transplant. His farm at Berridale became his focus and retreat. It gave him purpose and a way to keep busy, and he loved it. 

Chris is survived by three of his four children, Vanessa, Bill and Katie, and their partners, Jarrod and Stevie-Lea, and by seven grandchildren and step-grandchildren, Laura, Lexie, Jayden, Lewis, Taylor, Dylan and Bailey. To his grandchildren, Chris was a loving and caring Poppy. He was proud to have lived to see and hold his grandchildren. Chris’ spirit lives on through them. 

Chris lived through the anguish of far more tragedy than any one family should bear. Yet Chris persevered for himself and for the people he loved.

He carried on with the support and care of his loving family, and the doctors, nurses and staff at Berridale, Cooma Hospital, Canberra Hospital and the Canberra Dialysis Centre.