It’s been a red letter day at the Tweed in northern New South Wales with the resolution of a 13-year-old mystery.

It began when museum curator Erika Taylor found a box of red letters made of tin.

Frustratingly for anyone who loves organisation, especially a meticulous curator, the box had no label or tag.

“I was absolutely intrigued. They have a beautiful patina and I had an inkling they were something special,” Ms Taylor said.

“Over the past 13 years I’ve tried time and time again to work out what they spelt.”

Ms Taylor even resorted to Scrabble apps, putting the letters into various online platforms to use AI to solve the red riddle.

She and her staff would at times get the letters out of the box and move them around but were bamboozled.

Brains trust

Ms Taylor was determined not to let the forgotten box of letters gather dust any longer and she put the tricky anagram out to the public for collective brainstorming in mid December.

“From my experience, the fastest way to find correct information is to post incorrect information online. Someone will very soon tell you that you’re wrong,” she chuckled.

The museum has 8,500 followers on social media.

“Literally within minutes I got that little ding on my phone,” Ms Taylor said.

“Our community built around the museum are absolute history buffs and jump at any chance they can to help us when we get stuck with those little quirky bits of history.”

Ms Taylor said social media could get a bad rap but this was a great example of how Facebook could be used for good.

As one person commented on the Tweed Regional Museum page, “This is one of the best things I’ve seen on Facebook … any other mysteries Tweed Regional Museum?”

Not quite the answer they were after

The solutions flowed, the creative and the downright hilarious:

Saw lucid timbered cat.

Adelaide Bust Twiccet.

And the truly frightening, “My hovercraft is full of eels,” which took a bit of artistic licence by adding extra letters.

The anagram hero who solved the red-letter riddle, Mick Bambery, said it took him “half my morning cup of coffee to work out.”

He wrote the letters out on a scrap of paper to get a fresh perspective.

Mr Bambery said English was never his forte but his brain was made for puzzles.

“I wasn’t very good with English at school and failed it on my school certificate,” he said.

“But when my daughter bought magazines, I would solve the puzzles in them.

“It was fun solving [this one] and helping the museum.”

Problem solved

Mr Bambery said the fact that the letters were stored at the Tweed Regional Museum provided part of the solution.

“Firstly I commented [on Facebook]: ‘Tweed district something,'” Mr Bambery said.

“Then a minute later I edited it and wrote [the full answer] before anyone could steal the glory.”

For Tweed Regional Museum curator Erika Taylor, it now all seems so obvious.

“That fabulous colour red, you know, it just symbolises the Red Cross and hospitals or health and first aid, of course it’s going to be ambulance.”

“Ambulance station letters, red, it sort of screams ambulance now, but I just never put it together in my mind.”

The white-towel telephone

Once the anagram was solved the history of the ambulance station began to unfold.

Memories and photos began to populate the conversation, including the somewhat unusual methods of communication at the ambulance station.

The Tweed District Ambulance Service was officially established in Murwillumbah in 1931 and in its first month of operation, transported 50 people to hospital.

It was funded solely by the community, built on gifted land.

The ambulance driver, Ted Benstead, would ride around town on his bicycle collecting donations but always keeping an eagle eye on the station, located halfway up a hill.

When he was needed back at the station to drive a patient, Mr Benstead’s wife would hang a large white towel out the window.

Mystery deepens

Astute eyes on social media pointed out that the font on the older photos of the ambulance station was different from the mystery red letters.

Then began the process of closer scrutiny with Facebook follower Scott McDougall pointing out the signs and lettering on the building in the 1930s was quite different.

Ms Taylor took a closer look at the historical photos and confirmed Mr McDougall’s observations were right.

The letters instead matched the font used in the 1972 renovations of the station, providing a date for the red letters.

Ms Taylor believes the red letters came to the museum when the station had another renovation in the 2000s.

Reflecting on the riddle, she says she loves her museum’s history fans.

“People are so lovely and helpful, so if you are into history, follow us because we interact with our community all the time,” she said.

“You might learn a thing or two and you might help us solve a mystery.”