A handwritten letter seems most appropriate, but that could be a quirk of memory; ascribing the feeling of the old-world charm of the meeting to the method of conscription.

And it was a conscription. And it was one that numerous Launcestonians had undergone before and after me.

I was sitting in a small living room in a Balfour Street house built in the late 1800s.

The building and decor was otherworldly, caught in the almshouse timewarp that it had been provided in post World War II.

Across from me sat the author of the invitation, who had just shuffled into the room with a cup of tea and a biscuit.

The author was Jean Hearn and she was a powerhouse of energy; kind, generous but, above all, driven and task-orientated.

Her mission was to enlist people from various walks of life and positions to give back to their community.

I use words like mission, enlist and conscription deliberately. There was something regimented about Jean’s approach.

It spoke to that generation that was practical and practicable in its organisation.

Jean’s husband Frederick William Howe served in the 2/40th Australian Imperial Force battalion during World War II.

A prisoner of war in Java, his boat home was sunk by friendly fire. The event sparked Jean’s life-long commitment to pacifism.

Many years later, a speech given by the late Governor Peter Underwood was the catalylst that sparked belief into action.

Mr Underwood said we should remember and honour servicemen and women “for they went to where they had no wish to go, and did what they had no wish to do”.

“But remembrance and honour will neither bring nor preserve the peace for which they thought they died,” Mr Underwood told the assembled crowd.

“That is not enough. We must actively strive for peace on a daily basis.”

The speech caused a minor controversy with some claiming its message was anti-Anzac. It was a rather silly reaction given the context: people go to war to secure peace and we should not forget that.

Days when we pause to remember the great sacrifice of those who came before us should be a rallying point for commemoration not celebration but mostly for action.

Jean was inspired into action and challenged people to actively strive for peace.

The former senator set about recruiting people to the cause, so there I was, cup of tea and rock hard biscuit in hand. It was the first I’d heard about a Peace Festival.

It sounded a bit pie in the sky, to be blunt.

Because when you talk about actively striving for peace, the hard heads and cynics will roll their eyes so violently they can see what the back of their head looks like.

But when we talk about the benefits of building goodwill and a more connected community, it starts to make more sense.

In its third year, the festival has supported hundreds of community-driven events and brought terrific speakers to Launceston.

Speakers like journalist Martin Flanagan who talked about his father’s experience of being a prisoner of war in World War II or Human Rights Commissioner Ed Santow.

The festival’s signature events this year are separate talks from poet, lawyer and feminist Sara Mansour and Australian War Memorial director Dr Brendan Nelson.

Different experiences, and probably worldviews, but great insights into peace and leadership and community.

The festival continues to grow but needs your support. Your support in patronage, participation and, to continue the alliteration, philanthropy.

With your support it will continue to broaden its base from niche, feel-goodiness, to touch all walks of life and deliver tangible benefits for our community.

Jean died in November 2017 aged 96.

The community lost someone committed to building its prosperity and sense of purpose through energy and effort.

Thankfully energy cannot be destroyed – it only changes form.

It can be harnessed by others.

Jean’s challenge remains: what will you do, every day, to commit to making your community a better place? Please join us.