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I am a valued member of the Kings Cross community of blogs.

Biography is a unique community of blogs, each with a Kings Cross connection. Residents blog about any subject that interests them. Non-residents also blog here, but their blogs are restricted to Kings Cross related subjects

My birth was long before the white people. My people were permanently encamped in the area near the fire station. From me they could see for miles around yet I am close to the waters of the bay, and freshwater creeks flowed each side of the ridge. I was their primordial paradise.

The first white men discovered my winds and erected windmills to grind their flour. Darlinghurst Road was originally the track past the mills. The track ended at the big windmill just past Roslyn Street.

In the 1830's I became Sydneys first 'millionaires row' with palatial Mansions on small, and not so small acerages. Many of my streets carry their names, such as Craigend and Springfield,and Orwell, and Tuscullum and Rockwall.

By the turn of the 20th century apartment buidings and cheap tenements brought overcrowding, and the bohemians. My illustrious son, Nobel Laureate Patrick White was a young man then. Nearby lived the eccentric David Scott Mitchell who collected treasures like a first edition copy of Defoe's Gullivers Travels. His collection became the beginnings of the State Library.

My streets became full of poets and painters and film makers. I welcomed social revolutionaries, misfits and vagabonds. I was exciting and noisy and brash.

Wars shaped me. In 1942 an attack by 3 Japanese submarines sank the Kuttabul just off Kings Cross, while American and ANZAC soldiers were in my streets. During the Vietnam War Sydney was an R&R city, and it was my bars and clubs that were destination number one.

Today I am changing yet again although I am still at the forefront of social experimentation and cultural developements. Mardi Gras began with mass arrests of gay marchers in my Darlinghurst Road. Tropfest started in Victoria Street. And more recently One of the first heroin injecting centers opened here.

Within a few minutes walk of my heart are located important genetic and cardiac facilities, Foundation 41 where Dr William McBride's Pioneering expose of Thalidomide was carried out. The house of 19th century flight pioneer Lawrence Hargraves. The haunts of poets like Slessor, activists like Gilmore, painters like Dobell. The tradition continues. There are more published writers in our postcode than the rest of Sydney combined. Artists still inhabit my garrets, and the poor still live alongside the rich.

You see, my life is one of contrasts, it is never dull. My people are sometimes pessimists, sometimes optimists, but either way usually have an opinion and are used to expressing it in public. Love me or leave me, you can't ignore me.

I am Kings Cross. This is my life.