A life dedicated to the care and healing of others, Dr Michael Mullany was also community stalwart, passionate farmer and proud Irishman. He is pictured here at his beloved “Ballinaclash” with Joe Mullany. Photo: The Mullany Family
Dr Michael Mullany, country doctor, community leader and proud Irishman, 1928–2025
Dr Michael Mullany, the Irish country GP who cared for generations of families in the Young district from their first days through to their later years, was farewelled by a packed St Marys congregation last week after passing away aged 97.
A much-loved father, grandfather, great-grandfather and highly respected community figure, Michael brought thousands into the world, often caring for them from their first breath to their final days.
His medical career was one that spanned decades and was defined by skill, compassion and a deep devotion to his patients.
But beyond the hospital walls, his commitment to the broader Young community will not be forgotten, nor will the legacy he and his late wife Bernadette (Bernie) wove not just into the town’s fabric but deep in the granite soil – a living heritage that lives on in their children, many of whom now tend vineyards and craft wines that carry the Mullany name into the future.
Born in either County Waterford or Tipperary, Ireland, on 23 or 24 April 1928 – even he was never entirely sure – Michael Mullany was the son of Peter and Bridget Mullany (née McGrath).
He grew up alongside his five sisters Lavinia, Elsie, Anna, Marie and Denise, spending his early years in Touraneena, a village in the west of Waterford County, before he, aged 10, and the family moved to another small village named Ballinaclash, in east County Wicklow, Ireland.
Ask Michael about his childhood and he’d tell you it was tough – beaten with a stick and left to chew on leftover bones under the table.
Ask his sisters and you’d hear a different story: as the only boy, he was spoilt.
Somewhere between the stick and the spoiling lies the truth, but what’s certain was his enduring love for Ballinaclash and his Irish heritage.
Educated in Touraneena and Clashmore, he went on to Mount Melleray Abbey located on the slopes of the Knockmealdown mountains in County Waterford, where he would be taught by Cistercian monks and excel in rugby and boxing.
Following in his father’s footsteps, he entered University College Dublin to study medicine but when his father died in 1947, Michael left university to work on the family farm.
Later, with financial help from his uncle, Michael returned to university and completed his degree in 1952. Years on, his daughter Michelle followed him into medicine, an achievement that filled him with quiet pride.
In 1954, he would move to England to practise in London’s poorer districts.
Two years later, through mutual Irish friends, he met his future wife Bernadette O’Brien with whom he was immediately smitten; she took a little convincing.
Nonetheless, they married in October 1956 and, the following year, boarded a ship for Australia, a journey tinged with sadness as en route, he received word that his mother had died.
Arriving in Sydney, Michael was persuaded by Dr Charles Rowe to move to Young and join his medical practice – a choice that would define his life’s work.
Borrowing fuel money from his father-in-law to reach the small South West Slopes town, he and Bernie soon settled in Edward Street, where they raised 11 children – Michelle, Siobhan, Peter, Angela, Brian, Edwina, Patrick, Bridget, Charles, Claudia and Dominica.
Over the years, their family would expand to include 27 grandchildren and five great-grandchildren.
Dr Mullany became an integral part of Young’s medical community, working alongside colleagues including doctors Oxenham, Sevier, Gale, Ross, Gleeson, Meagher, Larkham and Hamilton-Gibbs.
Beyond delivering thousands of babies, he championed care for the elderly and worked closely with the Sisters of Mercy to establish the Young Retirement Village and transform the Mercy Hospital into a respite and palliative care unit.
He would also play a key role in founding Lambing Flat Enterprises for people with disabilities.
Dr Michael Mullany relished in his large family. Photo: The Mullany Family.
He was known for embracing new ideas, trialling treatments such as biofeedback and hypnotherapy if they might help his patients, much of his work in the pre-Medicare era entirely voluntary.
His dedication was recognised in 2008 when he was named GP of the Year and awarded the Order of Australia Medal for services to health, particularly for the aged and disabled.
Michael also served his community outside medicine, holding positions as a local councillor in the 1960s and again in the 1990s and running for federal preselection in 1974.
Life as a country GP was relentless – long hours, home visits and constant calls – yet, in a nod to his bucolic beginnings, Michael still found time for farming on his Wombat Road block, named “Ballinaclash”.
There he grew cherries and grapes – actually all manner of fruit-bearing trees – ran cattle, cut hay and gave orders with enthusiasm.
He loved the outdoors and would passionately protect the fruits of his labour, be it bearing arms against invading starlings, or cats who dared to prey on the starlings.
There were also the trips to the family’s beloved Broulee beach house, where summer holidays meant packing the children – and sometimes the pets – into, atop and under a ute tarp for the trip to the coast.
Michael’s fishing prowess was notable, more for the numbers of undersized flathead he caught, yet, somehow, he kept everyone fed.
Later in life, he turned to baking pies, often with creative – and occasionally questionable – ingredient combinations such as overcooked apple and pumpkin.
A particular favourite of the grandchildren was a chunky non-peeled quince and cinnamon pie flavoured finally with fruit fly.
His home country was never far from his heart. Whether on one of the many trips he and Bernie took back to Ireland, lecturing his children on the English’s long and futile attempts to subdue the Irish, or finally taking up Australian citizenship once pledging allegiance to the Queen was no longer required, his Irish roots remained a defining part of his life.
At home, he dispensed advice with urgency and encouragement and his personal motto, long before Nike made it famous, was: “Do it. Damn it. Just do it”.
In his later years, after Bernie’s death in 2019, the care and love he offered to his wife, family and the community was returned when the fiercely independent GP gracefully came to accept help from others, recognising that being cared for was also a gift.
Dr Michael Mullany will be remembered for his tireless work ethic, quick wit and the dedication and care he showed both patients and family.
He was a man who loved a song, a story, and a joke – sometimes perfectly delivered, sometimes not – and who, in the words of Irish entertainer Hal Roach, “lived every day as if it was his last, and surely one day he was right”.
