Aunty Sandra Buchanan can walk freely today around her much-loved town of Bowraville in regional New South Wales, but her life hasn’t always been this way.
Warning: The following contains names and images of people who have died and language that people may find offensive.
The town’s ‘picture theatre’ became the centre of attention in 1965 when a busload of students from the University of Sydney demanded an end to the racism and segregation in the community.
“Aboriginal people had to go down the sides and sit right in front of the screens, either on the floor or in wooden chairs, because we weren’t allowed up the back where all the white customers were,” Aunty Sandra recalled.
Excluded from cinemas as a child, it wasn’t until Aunty Sandra Buchanan was much older she felt comfortable to go to see a film. (Supplied)
It wasn’t until much later in life that she even felt comfortable going to the cinema.
“I never went through the front of that theatre and sat on those nice, cushy seats until I was in my 60s,” she said.
“[But] after living through all that segregation, name calling and isolation, I wouldn’t live anywhere else but Bowraville,” something she credits to the “Freedom Riders”.
It was in the middle of the night in February 1965 when Indigenous activist Charles Perkins boarded a bus with 28 other students.
They took their inspiration from the civil rights movement in the United States, where in 1961 African American and student protesters had travelled through the Deep South to challenge segregation.
In the same vein, Dr Perkins hoped their journey around regional New South Wales would educate Australians about the unfair treatment of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples.
Walgett: Aboriginal diggers barred from RSL
Students from the Freedom Ride creating signs for their protest in Walgett. (Supplied: Mitchell Library, State Library of New South Wales and Courtesy SEARCH Foundation.)
The students arrived in Walgett on their third day on the road. There they met with Gamilaraay Yuwaalaraay man Harry Hall, president of the town’s Aborigines Progressive Association.
Hall was a prominent figure who, along with Euhlaroi man Ted Fields, had been leading the push for desegregation in the town for some time.
His granddaughter Amy Townsend told ABC’s Speaking Out her pop was a strong leader who “fought hard … to expose and highlight the racism and segregation” and was “highly involved in trying to get equal rights” for his people.
Granddaughter of Harry Hall Amy Townsend welcoming people to the 60th anniversary event of the Freedom Rides with two local Walgett Elders. February, 2025. (Supplied: Amy Townsend)
In Walgett the group held their first demonstration, protesting the racist policy which banned Indigenous ex-servicemen from the Returned Services League club, unless it was ANZAC Day.
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They faced hostility from many non-Indigenous residents, and were soon chased out of the town on their bus, and at one point even run off the road by a truck.
“Pop had to do quite a lot to work with his mates and his son Harry Phillip Hall to support the Freedom Riders to get out of town safely,” Amy said.
After they left, Hall continued to hold protests against the colour bar, leading to the desegregation of the town’s pubs, shops and the RSL.
Governor of New South Wales Margaret Beazley and Granddaughter of Harry Hall Amy Townsend. February 2025. (Supplied: Amy Townsend)
Sixty years later, Amy said her grandfather’s legacy in Walgett endures.
“That’s a time that my pop says when things clearly changed for us, when he started to see change and things happening for our people.”
Hall’s fight to improve the lives of Walgett’s Indigenous people is remembered today with a memorial and a blue plaque in the local park.
“I think it’s so important for that history and that sharing of the past to be taught to our children, so they can see how far we’ve come,” said Amy.
Moree: the town that made international headlines
Gomeroi man Uncle Darryl French was only 14 years old, and living a life controlled by a mission manager, when the Freedom Ride bus made its way to Moree.
“The welfare system of the time thought placing us on a mission would be the end of us, that they could phase us out, eradicate us,” he said.
“We had a segregated picture theatre, we only had specific cafes we could use.
“If you touched clothes back then, Mum had to buy them because they were considered contaminated.”
Students behind Australia’s Freedom Ride gathered to protest outside of the Moree Artesian Bath. (Supplied: Mitchell Library, State Library of New South Wales and Courtesy SEARCH Foundation.)
Moree was the fifth stop on the fifteen-day journey and one of the most notable, attracting media attention across the country and the world.
“Some people had negative things to say, like ‘these fellas are going to stir up trouble, and when they leave, we’ll have to deal with it,'” Uncle Darryl, now 73, recalled.
Moree — like Walgett — was divided and rife with racism.
A by-law imposed by the local council banned Aboriginal people from using the local swimming pool.
“No person being a full blooded or half cast aboriginal of Australia or being a person apparently having admixture of Aboriginal blood, shall use, occupy or be present in … the premises,” it stated.
“When you’re a kid, standing at a fence and seeing all the white kids having a great time, and you’re thinking, ‘why aren’t we allowed in there?,’ I didn’t understand it was because we were black,” Uncle Darryl said.
But on a hot and sunny day on the 16th of February, things were about to change.
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Standing out the front of the pool, members of the Freedom Ride began protesting after a group of six young Aboriginal boys from the Moree mission, on the outskirts of town, were refused entry.
After 25 minutes and an argument with a disgruntled pool manager, the children were allowed in.
That night the students, led by Charles Perkins, organised a public meeting to permanently lift the ban.
Hundreds of people attended and in a surprising turn of events, an agreement was reached to remove the restrictions—88 votes to 10.
It was a victory the students had been looking for but, unfortunately, it was short-lived.
As soon as the bus left town, the mayor enforced the racist restrictions, and Aboriginal children were refused entry again.
Angry locals and the police gathered outside Moree Artesian Baths. (Supplied: Mitchell Library, State Library of New South Wales and Courtesy SEARCH Foundation.)
When the students heard the news, they turned the bus around and stopped past the Moree mission to pick up a group of children and continue the fight.
Uncle Darryl was one of the young passengers on the bus that day.
“We were scared, we didn’t know what was going to happen, and when you see people getting arrested and dragged out of the pool and all these rednecks shouting and screaming, we were terrified because they weren’t going to back off,” he said.
“I remember pulling on my dad’s leg and saying I want to go home.”
A massive crowd of aggressive locals gathered in front of the pools, spitting, throwing eggs and rotten vegetables.
There were heated arguments, arrests and punches thrown before the mayor agreed to co-sign a motion, with the backing of two aldermen, that Aboriginal people could use the facility and entry would be based “on health criteria only”.
Uncle Darryl French said the Freedom Ride inspired him to continue advocating for equal rights. (Supplied)
But Uncle Darryl said it took many years before real change occurred.
“When the ban supposedly lifted, there were still mechanisms in place to restrict us,” he said.
He remembered having to shower before jumping into the pool to ‘get all the germs off’ and only being allowed to swim for a ‘five-minute time frame’ at the end of sports days.
“It probably existed right up until adulthood, then we had to take up the fight and get the confidence to stand up,” he said.
Despite this, the courage of Charles Perkins, Gary Williams, and their non-Indigenous allies inspired Uncle Darryl to continue advocating for equal rights.
“The [Freedom Riders] are heroes who came and made significant change to our communities; I’ll forever be grateful for that,” he said.
Change for the next generation
The Freedom Riders considered Bowraville ‘by far the worst’ discrimination the students witnessed on the tour.
But Uncle Gary Williams — who hopped on the bus at Bowraville — wasn’t shocked.
“Bowraville and Kempsey were pretty rough, but it wasn’t nothing I haven’t seen before,” he said.
Segregation in the town was clear — hotels, cafes and cinemas had restrictions based on race.
Gumbaynggirr-Bundjalung man Uncle Gary Williams shares the impact the Freedom Riders had on him 60 years on. (ABC Coffs Coast: Nick Parmeter)
At 19 years old, Uncle Gary defied the ‘colour bar’ and helped make history by enjoying a beer at the front of Bowraville Hotel with his friend and fellow Freedom Rider, Brian Aarons.
Looking back, Uncle Gary said the protests beamed a light on a dark chapter of Australia’s history and sparked a new generation of leaders.
“It highlighted systemic racism throughout certain communities and created something on a scale that [people] haven’t really thought about before,” he said.
“These young people came out and were ready to take on the world.”
But it wasn’t just the next generation that benefited.
Aunty Sandra Buchanan and her husband were among the first families given permission to leave Bowraville mission and raise their children in a place they could call home – one without the surveillance of a mission manager.
She credits this life-changing moment to the Freedom Riders.
“Aboriginal people were so used to that kind of life, having no control,” she said.
“We needed someone like Charlie and the uni students. They made people sit up, take notice and realise that things had to change. It couldn’t keep going that way.”
“I’m so grateful that my children and my grandchildren never had to live through that era.”
Hear more on the Freedom Rides on Speaking Out
