Lindsay Jacombs' story begins not in Australia, but in the former British colony of Rhodesia—now Zimbabwe. Born into an English-speaking community with Australian roots, Lindsay’s childhood was shaped by buildings that told stories. Her school was housed in a structure built in 1910—respected not because of its grandeur, but because it stood for something lasting in a land of impermanence. Her father’s clinic was in Willoughby’s Building, the oldest in town, built in 1900.
“It was strange,” she recalls, “how odd it was to be impressed by something just because it was old.”
In 1981, Lindsay migrated to Australia with her husband and two small children, bringing just $20, the maximum allowed to leave Zimbabwe at the time. She quickly realised that in this new country, buildings weren’t always treated as precious.
“It was heartbreaking,” she says, “to see historic buildings knocked down just because something new could be built faster and cheaper.”
Settling in Berwick, Lindsay became deeply involved in the fight to save the local primary school – a beloved site of community memory and one of the first campaigns supported by the National Trust of Australia (Victoria). It was her first taste of activism.
“You can’t just tear down a place that’s educated generations of children. That building meant something,” she says. “That’s when I became aware of the Trust – and passionate about supporting its work.”
Her connection to heritage runs deep. With her second husband Michael, she shares a love of history and preservation. Together, they’ve chosen to leave their estate equally to NTAV and the Melbourne Symphony Orchestra, recognising the role both play in enriching cultural life.
“There’s not much built history in Australia compared to Europe,” she reflects. “But what we do have, we must hold onto. It helps us understand who we are.”
Lindsay’s passion also stems from witnessing the devastating decline of her homeland. Returning to Zimbabwe years later, she found the countryside and wildlife unchanged, but the infrastructure in ruins. Trees were cut for firewood, roads crumbled, and people lived without basic services.
“When destruction happens around you slowly, you don’t notice it,” she says. “But as an outsider coming back, it was soul-destroying.”
That experience reaffirmed her commitment to preservation – both of built heritage and natural landscapes. She believes passionately that young people should experience old buildings, walk through history, and feel the stories that live within walls and trees.
“We know trees die,” she says, “but that doesn’t mean we chop them down without thought. They mark our history, our memories, our shared spaces.”
For Lindsay, being a supporter of the National Trust is about more than buildings. It’s about legacy.
“Dedication means being sincere about what you care about. Protection is hanging on to what we’ve got while we still have it. Connection is feeling like what you’re doing matters – and that you belong.”
In Lindsay’s words:
“Who we are today is everything we carry from history. And that’s why I support the Trust – because our history lives in these buildings and places, and those stories deserve to be told.”
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