CHILDHOOD - THE CAMERA AND THE TRUTH

1947  - ME IN KHAKI SHORTS WITH MUM & DAD
AT THE BACK OF OUR WEATHERBOARD HOME

When I retrieved this photo at the time I commenced this Blog, I found it to be very revealing. Now, I was already quite familiar with it. It had been around and accessible since the film had been developed ( how quaint that sounds in the era of the digital camera and the computer!). But now I really looked at it - as if for the first time!

We were "poor"! God bless Mum & Dad - I never knew it. At that time we rented the house at 22 Second Avenue, Berala. Although Dad had re- painted it internally, externally he left it as the owner kept it. The house was not very old, dating from the immediate pre-Depression period. It was completed as I understand it,  in early 1929 and I believe Mum and Dad and my elder brother Pat were its first tenants.

But "poor"or not, Mum and Dad had that fierce working class self-respect of the time, that ensured that we always "scrubbed up "well when we went out - as the picture of me and my Dad in Pitt Street, Sydney also in 1947 shows. We were photographed by one of the many street photographers who, with their trim Leica 35mm cameras, abounded in immediate post War Sydney.

With my  Dad in 1947 outside the Metropolitan Water Sewerage and Drainage Board's  Head Office in Pitt Street Sydney. Note my Beach Bucket(tin) with the image of the "Queen Mary"on it and Dad's Gladstone Bag 

Either photo, taken by itself would tell a very different story.

Again, when I look closely at the first photo , I am distressed to see how completely worn and even ill, my poor Mum looks. She may in fact have been suffering the problems that led to her having a hysterectomy in about 1951. I knew nothing of these things  until Mum was hospitalised at Saint Joseph's Hospital in nearby Auburn for the operation.

Later still in 1954 the owner of the house died and  the Real Estate Agent came to our home to tell us that the place was to be auctioned. I was there and I can recall Mum being quite upset thinking that we might have to move. The Agent wasn't a bad fellow . He carefully explained the process , stating that he would be standing at the top of the steps on the front verandah, and that bidders would be at the bottom of the steps - "Don't worry he said , there might not be many and I will not call out too loud!"

As it happened, the market then was very quiet it seems. Although there were a few curious neighbours , there were no bidders and the property was "passed in"at auction. So Mum and Dad were able to negotiate to purchase the place for 800 Pounds with the aid of a loan from my maiden Aunt Nell to whom Mum and Dad had always been very kind.

In due course Dad, now a home owner set to work and, totally through his own labour, transformed the property: clearing the blackberry infestation from the Northern side and laying a concrete driveway from the new wrought iron gates he installed,replacing the front fence ,  adding a new kitchen and laundry, closing in the rear verandah , re-furbishing the bathroom and installing first a gas heater at the bath and later a hot water service for the whole house  and finally he opened out the Lounge Room onto the Dining Area freed up by the new kitchen. It was an extraordinary effort for a part time amateur. In the course of those works over the years we went from an Ice Box  to a gas Refrigerator ( Silent Knight brand) to an American Crosley Electric Refrigerator. And the hand operated wringer on the Laundry concrete tubs gave way to a barrel shaped Simpson Electric Washing Machine ( Agitator type) later replace by a Hoover. And finally the clothes lines stretched across the backyard gave way to a Hills Rotary Hoist which was ultimately supplemented by a an electric Clothes Dryer. He also re-roofed the house and re-painted it externally.There seemed to be no practical project he would not put his hand to, and he never failed to achieve a good result. Well done that Dad!
Alas the "practical genes"did not get through to me!

Most of this transformation took place in the second half of the 1950s - a time of great prosperity in Australia as the country found its feet and recovered vigorously after the War under the brilliant Menzies Coalition Government  which ruled for 23 years. The Great Depression and Wartime Austerity were shaken off completely and a new self- confident era  evolved.

In this period we were certainly no longer "poor"  by anyone's standards, rather we had become inhabitants of the burgeoning lower middle class in our lifestyle, and as I came into my 20s I felt few direct inhibitions to my progress in life. Though it must be noted , that given their own backgrounds, my dear Mum and Dad were not so well placed to advise me.Not that it would probably have been possible at that age , when I of course knew everything.