1940s to 1950s TRANSPORTED IN TIME - SINEWS OF SYDNEY

                                                        TRANSPORTED IN TIME

Sydney Ö "Class Tram on its dedicated track on the Harbour Bridge, the track leads along to Wynyard Tram Station on the same level as , and visible from, the Platforms for the Western Suburbs and the North Shore trains

Through all of my school life and into my early  working life, trams were an integral, but increasingly contoversial part of the City's transport life. The network was, in its time , reputedly the second largest in the world.Most people to-day would be surprised at its extent shown in the following map:

The controversy arose after WW II when burgeoning motor vehicle traffic, combined with Sydney's mostly narrow streets, found the old ladies of the tracks too slow and too obstructive as traffic came to a halt each time the tram stopped. Perhaps the campaign was being supported by the bus producers( who knows? In the USA General Motors systematically bought up the tram companies and closed them down in order to promote bus sales!). I was not among the agitators - and I didn't care if it was the modern thing to do, and "the whole world"is getting rid of trams -which wasn't true in any case.

Sydney "O "Class Tram - my favourites.

I loved the trams, especially the older "O "Class on which I most frequently travelled. I loved the two open compartments at either end, sitting on the very side wedged against the curved brass handhold. The Conductors, standing on the footboards, which enabled passengers to step up into the tram, used to have to hold onto these brass fittings as they swung themselves along from compartment to compartment collecting fares. It was fairly dangerous considering cars and trucks whizzing past, and rather unpleasant in rainy weather.

The trams were heavily built and their old, but it seems , reliable electric motors were rather noisy, as were the wheels. It was great to hear the increasing rhythm of the motors, their heavy "run-run, run-run, RUN-RUN,RUN-RUN "sound rising as the matching rhythm of the wheels over the track joints( no spot welded joints then) added to the effect. Trams being what they are , they could manage 90 degree tuns on very tight arcs. My favourite was turning out of George Street in the City into King Street - the Tram car appeared to be well behind the wheels in getting around the bend and described a much wider arc than the track of course. The screech of the wheels was agonising as they protested their treatment.And there was the occasional flash and crack as the power pole contact made the transition from the George Street wires to the King Street wires.

The corner of George St. (L-R) and King street in an earlier era. Note on the right hand corner facing is the then famous Belfield's Hotel. The owner, J.B.Belfield was a famous Billiards Champion, Hotelier and wealthy real estate investor. He was renowned in Sydney society as a very fine Gentleman and doted on his beautiful wife who sadly died early. He was a relative of my wife on her Mother's side. Note that there was at that time no connection between the George Street tramway and the King Street line.

During my last two years of School - at Marist Brothers' Darlinghurst, I travelled daily on the tram from Eddy Street at Central station up to Darlo. It was great. Tram travel gave a real "feel"for the City.The wooden slats of the seats defied any desire for comfort and you were in the midst of everything, noise, weather ( good or bad) and the total ambience of the place. Other tram trips I had made often , but irregularly were to Bronte Beach whenever I went with the Drydens across the street from us.Their son Brien was the same age as me and we had been friends since the beginning of Primary School at St Peter Chanel's Convent School Berala. The trip out to Bronte was long and good fun until we turned into Macpherson Street at Waverley and I got the first whiff of the sea air - a cold chill would settle on my little tummy. I could not swim, and I knew, no matter how pleasant people were, that it was bound to be a background cause of humiliation. Oh well! There was always the Parkland at the back of the Beach to explore AND the ride on train to enjoy!

On one of these visits to Bronte we went across to the Milk Bar, and there I had my first Coca Cola. It had been unavailable during the War and now here it was , the great American treat! I enjoyed it very much.

The Tram Station at Randwick Racecourse.

On rare occasions, about twice a year, I would go with Mum and Dad to the Races.We went both Randwick and Canterbury. Randwick was a great tram ride from Central Station and Canterbury we went to by train and from time to time caught the tram to the City where we would have our evening meal in one of the ubiquitous "Sargeant's Pies Restaurants. If my memory serves me rightly you could get several different accompaniments to your Sargeant's Pie for dinner. There were about eight of these establishments in the City.This was a good indicator of the degree of sophistication of the average Sydneysider's dining choices, at least at our income level.

The tram trip from Canterbury to the City was quite long and somewhat "dampened"by parental supervision and tiredness after a long day. I quite enjoyed, and still do, the actual races, but, particularly as an early teenager I found the waiting between races boring and would read. Teenagers are impossible!

One particularly memorable tram trip was to The Spit and it must have been in 1944 or thereabouts travelling with my Mum and my Aunt Nell. We were headed to Manly - for some reason choosing tram and bus rather than the Ferry. There were four American Servicemen in our open compartment.They were very polite and very pleasant as they helped us down from the tram compartment . They were also very Black! This made a marked impression on me  because I don't believe I had ever met a black person before! I guess Mum and Nell were fearful I might say something out of place, but I didn't. Perhaps the fact that Mum had always drilled into me the equal value of all people before God had its effect.

As you may gather I really enjoyed my times on the trams and regret their having passed away. (P.S. That large lumbering "light rail"thing from Central to wherever doesn't count - it has no character!) And as for the wretched Monorail - don't get me started!)



47 YEARS, THREE CHILDREN AND SEVEN GRAND CHILDREN LATER.......

                                         THE BEST WEDDING I EVER ATTENDED

THE BEAUTIFUL,TALENTED and BELOVED
ROBYN BARBARA DIXON

On this day, 3rd February,1970 - 47 years ago - I married my dear wife Robyn. It was the best wedding I ever attended , in the great Mary Immaculate Church at Waverley N.S.W. It was a joyful Nuptial Mass, and   it was a delight to have all of our family and friends gathered with us.

I had never wanted to marry anyone else and I thank God for giving me such a wonderful,talented( See:http://hotfudge8.blogspot.com.au/) and loving wife and three  talented, beautiful and handsome children and seven truly remarkable , beautiful and handsome grandchildren. Our family has been blessed with the gift of Love and that is straight from God.

Now to celebrate as best we can!

1947 - RELAXATION -THE FIRST ROYAL EASTER SHOW SINCE THE WAR

             1947   RELAXATION    THE FIRST ROYAL EASTER SHOW SINCE THE WAR

An odd view inside the old Showground, the lofty clock tower 
of the main Grandstand can be seen in the left background.

Me ( at the same age as the little boy with the beach bucket a few days ago) standing with my Dad at the Moore Park Entrance to the Showground- I had known nothing like this in my life; I had been told that we were going "to the Show", which I gathered would be good, but that was all. Now here we were being shoved through the turnstiles in these pokey little entrance gates with the rest of the crowds from the trams pushing behind.Then :

BAM! IT HIT ME LIKE A HEAVENLY REVELATION! "SHOCK", "AWE", WONDERMENT"I HAD NO TERMS OF REFERENCE : MY MIND REELED:

The ground fell away from the gates down a moderate slope, exaggerating the effect of the wonderful sights confronting me. Could this be real? So much , so pleasing and obviously all dedicated to fun - look : in the distance a huge Ferris Wheel turning, and I could hear a Merry Go Round, and there were people selling all sorts of colourful toys, rattlers, spinning coloured fans and kids everywhere eating ice creams, chocolates, hot dogs, pluto pups and real hot chips AND carrying large paper bags with string handles - in a very possessive manner! WONDERLAND!!

Dad began to instruct me in Show craft - it was neither possible nor desirable to try to see everything at once - we needed a plan of attack. The whole Showground was built around the Main Arena in effect. In the West where we had entered - this had to be the Main Entrance - were the Hordern Pavilion with all sorts of commercial exhibits and South of that was the Show Bag Pavilion. The Plan made this the last port of call before we exited to the Tram.To the East of the Showbags was a rowdy collection of garish, noisy, "rides"and freak shows and Jimmy Sharman's Boxing Troop. From there, further East and round the Eastern boundary Wall were all sorts of animal Pavilions - horses, cattle, sheep, dogs, cats, birds,by the hundred - each with their own intermingling unpleasant smells. Then around further was the Horticultural Pavilion, supplemented by a grand Merry Go Round and then along the Northern Boundary wall was the Wood Chopping. Various other odds and sods were sprinkled around the area - such as new car exhibitions and food stalls, mostly the latter were tucked in under the seating stands for the grand arena. But the two grand features of the Eastern side of the Arena were two truly huge brick Pavilions one in red brick and the other with a rendered surface marked out like stone blocks, The two of them were close together and they soared to a great height via stepped end walls and soaring steel arches supporting each roof.

In the red brick Pavilion we found a Spitfire hanging from the roof arches and a brand new and entirely novel centre aisle AIR-CONDITIONED railway carriage which was about to go into service on the "Newcastle Flyer"the crack inter-city Express.Amazing stuff! One of the key features of the 1947 Show was the British Empire Exhibition. Maybe the Spitfire was part of that - otherwise the B E Ex had no impact on me.

I don't remember what we had to eat or drink, except "Hot Tasmanian Potato Chips"excellent! It was good to know that Tasmania produced something good and useful instead of just Apples and more Apples.Tasmanian Chips were to become a ritual part of every visit to the Show for decades afterwards and I had the pleasure of introducing our three children to them in the 1970's. Sadly, in the early 1980's during some Tasmanian economy drive they ceased appearing - once again "all good things must come to an end".

In time, our day at the Show was coming to an end and Dad guided me back to the Showbag Pavilion. Wonders once again! The showbags were truly very different then and true to their original name : "Sample Bags". They always contained special small versions of the particular company's wares. The one I prized most, apart from the Hoadley's Chocolates Bag with its wonderful "Chocolate Polly Waffle"( which was still being produced until 2010!) , was the Pick Me Up Sauce Bag with about five or six miniature bottles of various sauces ( most of which I'd never tasted) I didn't care about the sauce - I was fascinated by the bottle shapes!As they clinked and clattered together, the bag proved to be a cause for friction on the way home. I think I got about 5 or 6 bags - at two shillings( one florin) and sixpence each [nominally 25 Cents] they were not expensive - as advertising they were heavily subsidised by the companíes and gaudily printed with their characteristic stylised name and colours.

So it was off home by tram to Central Station in Eddy Street,then up the ramp and stairs to the electric trains and home to Berala.

You may note that through this account I have not mentioned my Mum. I can't remember her being with us - which she was in most future years even though I believe she didn't relish the crowded experience. I believe Mum must have stayed home to avoid expected heavy crowding.

A 1947 Florin- two shillings - known as "two bob" nominal equivalent of 20 Cents.Note the Australian Coat of Arms and the Profile of George VI "By the Grace of God"! (D.G.) King of All the Britains "Defender of the Faith"! (F.D.) Emperor of India.

1947 RELAXATION - MANLY BEACH AND A CULTURAL ICON PEEPING OUT

WITH MY DAD IN PITT STREET,SYDNEY 
OUTSIDE THE WATER BOARD HEAD OFFICE

 It may seem bizarre, but here I am with my Dad, going to the beach! Yes that was the way we and most others dressed for a casual day out! Did you spot the "Cultural Icon "peeping out? Take a close look at my beach bucket - made in good sturdy tinware - no plastics then. (There was Bakelite - widely used in the ever more popular mantel radios, but it was brittle and far from suitable for any knockabout purposes.) On the bucket you will see the reproduction of the bow of R.M.S. Queen Mary whose image wrapped around the bucket - what more could a boy want! 

"The beach", for us almost invariably meant Manly -"7 Miles from Sydney and 1,000 miles from care!"as the signs inside the stately, steam powered ferries used to say. I loved the trip! The ferries themselves were impressive to me with beach names like "Barrenjoey", "Dee Why", "North Head"and the latest and greatest was "South Steyne"- stories of her sailing out from England ( where else!) were listened to in awe, including the tales of the seating having been burnt when fuel ran low!!These steam ferries had engine rooms that were visible from the passenger decks - looking down onto the tops of the cylinders with glimpses of the great piston rods and the cranks of the driveshaft. Scent of steam, oil, grease, sounds of the engineroom telegraph bell, the hiss of steam and the mechanical throb of the thrusting pistons and turning cranks were all come together most powerfully and enchantingly for this little boy.

As is still the case, nature being what it is, the matter of boarding the ferry was always a changing task as the tides at Circular Quay or at Manly ebbed and flowed. There were pairs of short , simple wooden planks with guard rails on one side only - for the lower or main deck, and very large and heavy steel framed ramps on wheels which the wharfhands moved into place for the Upper Deck.

The scent of the sea water at the Quay was complemented by the salt on the "Smiths Crisps" which were an inevitable complement to the journey.I can taste them now. Calls of "Stand Clear!"and the boarding ramps were withdrawn, the faces of disappointed late arrivers littered the wharf.The engineroom telegraph gave its double ring and gracefully we began to move away as the last of the mooring ropes were being coiled down. Generally we stayed on the Starboard or right side, the better to see the naval vessels at Garden Island Dockyard which is still the largest Naval Dockyard in the Southern Hemisphere, and had and still has, the largest heavy lift crane in the Southern Hemisphere.

As we turned out of Circular Quay and headed East down the Harbour we passed on our right the red brick pile of Fort Macquarie which, its name not withstanding, was a large tram depot.( Someone later had the idea that this would make a fine site for an Opera House....and you know the rest!)

For all my later and continuing interest in the Navy and Naval Vessels, it is a cruel truth that I have no memory at all of the many USN, RAN and even RN ships of all sizes that I must have seen there. However I have a very clear memory of the Hospital Ship "MANUNDA" beautifully white with a green band around her hull and emblazoned with the Red Cross on her sides, passing our ferry on her way back to the war. I can still recall the appalled reaction of my parents when, having heard that "MANUNDA"was her name I, very pleased with my rhyme announced "The "MANUNDA"went under"!.Perhaps it was this audience reaction that led to my disinterest in poetry for very many years.

S.S. SOUTH STEYNE Just past the Heads and running in to Manly Wharf

We swept past the homes of the rich and famous and the next point of interest was the Rose Bay Flying Boat Base - the Flying Boats themselves were sometimes to be seen at their moorings, and joy of joys, very occasionally taking off or landing - quite a show!

Some of the older ferries- still quite large, had internally an opening from the midships section of the Main Deck from which we could look down into the Engine Room and see and hear the  great steam piston engines driving the swiftly turning cranked propeller shafts! Sights , sounds and smells to win a young boy's heart! O how I loved it! And I was continually torn between this great drama and the colourful and varied scenes we were passing and the scent of the sea itself!


A gentle turn to Port (left) around Bradley's Head where I was taught to observe the masthead of HMAS SYDNEY ( I ) and reminded that "the SYDNEY sank the (German) EMDEN"in WW I. No-one mentioned the too-painful mystery of the loss of HMAS SYDNEY ( II ), still unexplained at that time.

Then , by degrees we began to feel the influence of the sea as we ran by the Heads. At times this was almost a non event - a mere tummy tickle, but, at other times the effect could be challenging - everyone looking for a handhold and the occasional person being ill. As the ferry headed some of the heavier waves, water would spray on board , what fun!Sometimes it was necessary to cancel the services due to rough seas. Later, as a teenager, I used to wait for days when the seas were reported rough at the Heads, and go into town (the City) with a friend to make the exciting crossing of the Heads - "exciting"- but safe otherwise the Ferries would be cancelled!

But "all good things must come to an end"and all too soon we were past the Heads and gliding into Manly wharf.Then we walked off down the Corso past the intriguing string of Milk Bars, Fish and Chip shops etc. etc. to the Promenade which gave onto the beach backed by the tall and pleasant Norfolk Island Pines. Looking up to the right we saw the imposing sandstone bulk of St.Patrick's Seminary. There are several points of departure from this point - but I shall take them up on later occasions.

AUSTRALIA DAY! The warm of heart, the stout of hand,

To-day I re-post with some minor amendment, some thoughts on AUSTRALIA DAY which I have posted in previous years. Since our readers come from many corners of the globe and many have joined the company in the last year, it seems appropriate that they should know something about the Country that has nurtured this Blogger, the product of Irish, German and English ancestry, and his feelings and beliefs about it. It was originally written for, and remains dedicated to, the benefit of a very dear friend from Africa

Right now, as the new President of the United States of America is leading his Country back to its core values and traditions, it is equally a good time to reflect on what I love and value about my Country.

"No shackled slave can breathe the air"

AUSTRALIA

"CORE OF MY HEART, MY COUNTRY"

Today is Australia Day! I thank God for bringing me to Conception and Birth in this remarkable Country.

Not the most beautiful country in the world, not the strongest country in the world, not the leading country in the world. You can have all that.

My Country is a place of real freedom, of real peace, of frank and trustworthy folk, whose friendship isn't feigned. An open, generally trusting people who are nevertheless not too easily fooled. They abhor pretension and if they have a fault it is a desire to ensure that no-one rises too high - it is called the "tall poppy syndrome" - tall poppies get cut down to size!

AUSTRALIANS GATHERED AT ANZAC COVE GALLIPOLI  -   LEST WE FORGET

Australians are a pragmatic people, no doubt a product of the sometimes harsh extremes of weather, and the lack of almost everything except land in early colonial days. As a result, public discourse is not big on principles, but more on what will work. Our political system and legal system are born out of our English colonial origins. Our independence was sought and given, rather than fought for and won. We remain a constitutional monarchy, with the British Monarch's Governor - General (appointed on the recommendation of our democratically elected Government) as our Head of State, but our pragmatic nature makes the majority of Australians see that we are really and factually independent, and advocates of a Republic have been unable to gain traction. The system works - we pragmatists don't need to fix it.

AUSTRALIAN ICONS

Politically, we are fairly evenly divided between political Conservatives and a Labor based group. Each has had a fragile balance of power in the Federal sphere for most of the past decades but has been frequently rolled out of office at the next election. There is an underlying small "c" conservatism in the Australian psyche, which, combined with pragmatism, kills off such ideas as a Republic, identity cards, or anything that excites modern radicals.

One of the best summaries of Australia, the land, is contained in Dorothea Mackellar's 1904 poem "My Country”. It is a fine piece of work, addressed to many of the British citizens of Australia who, at the time it was written, would still speak of "home" and mean England! So it begins:

"The love of field and coppice,

Of green and shaded lanes,

Of ordered woods and gardens,

Is running in your veins.......................

I know, but cannot share it,

My love is otherwise.

I love a sunburnt country,

A land of sweeping plains,

Of ragged mountain ranges,

Of droughts and flooding rains............

Her beauty and her terror,

The wide brown land for me!

AYERS ROCK

An opal-hearted country,

A willful lavish land -

All you who have not loved her,

You will not understand,

Though Earth holds many splendors,

Wherever I may die,

I know to what brown country

My homing thoughts will fly!

AMEN to that!

Yet another lady, this time English - born Caroline Carleton, wrote in 1859 the Song of Australia which was set to music by the German Carl Linger. It won a competition sponsored by the South Australian Gawler Institute, for a patriotic song. It also has things to say, which merit attention, despite some of the flourishes of its time. It begins:

"There is a land where summer skies

  Are gleaming with a thousand dyes,

  Blending in witching harmonies, in harmonies;

  And grassy knoll, and forest height,

  Are flushing in the rosy light,

  And all above in azure bright-

  Australia!

BOUNTEOUS CROP IN WAKE OF DROUGHT BREAKING RAIN

........

  On hill and plain the clust'ring vine

  Is gushing out with purple wine,

  And cups are quaffed to thee and thine-

  Australia!                

  .........

  There is a land, where floating free,

  From mountain top to girdling sea,

  A proud flag waves exultingly,

  And freedom’s sons the banner bear,

  No shackled slave can breathe the air,

  Fairest of Britain's daughters fair,

  Australia!

I love it!  - Australia, Yes - But the Song of Australia too! Oh, I know it's more than a little over the top! But it has the spirit of my country. And any lady who can write about "gushing out with purple wine and cups are quaffed to thee and thine" has got my vote!

There is another patriotic song by Father Maurice Reilly C.M. Which is more subtle and substantive, which I also love, and which I first heard in First Class at my Convent School in 1946:

AUSTRALIAN NATIONAL HYMN

God bless our lovely morning land!

God keep her with enfolding hand

Close to His side.

While booms the distant battle's roar

From out some rude, barbaric shore.

In blessed peace forever more,

There to abide.

............

Land of the dawning! Lo! At last,

The shadows of the night are past;

Across the sea,

Is spreading far the purple light,

The lonely mountain peaks are bright,

And visions crowd upon the sight,

Of days to be.

"THE WARM OF HEART AND STOUT OF HAND"
CREW OF HMAS PERTH - LOST IN THE BATTLE OF SUNDA STRAIT
DEFENDING AUSTRALIA FROM THE EMPIRE OF JAPAN

The future is thine own, loved land,

The warm of heart, the stout of hand,

The noble mind,

Shall build a Nation truly great,

With Christ for King; where love not hate,

Shall be the charter of the State

To all mankind.

There is much more, all warm with faith in God and belief in Australia's promise.

PATRONISING  ENGLISH VIEW AT THE TIME OF FEDERATION!
THE AUSTRALIAN COMMENTS MIGHT HAVE SURPRISED THE CARTOONIST AND EDITOR

In fact, at the time of Federation, there was a widespread confidence in Australia's unique character and mission to show the world a new way of true freedom and peace and justice for all. It was a heady idealism, which sadly seemed to be overwhelmed by the tragedy of the First World War, the Great Depression, and the crusade of the Second World War. It still survives in wisps of spirit which are caught here and there. But it is largely lost to the national consciousness.

Let's not get too analytical - it is a day for Fair Dinkum CELEBRATION. With a very great deal to celebrate! We can save the “cerebration" for another day!

And so ,in company with my dear wife - “AUSTRALIA!” as Caroline Carleton would have exclaimed. Hmmmmm perhaps a wee drop of the JAMESON! - To honour those Irish ancestors!

MY GRANDAD'S MEMOIR - DISCOVERY, REMEMBRANCE AND REFLECTION

This post first appeared on 28th April, 2011. Since then the Edward Beckmann Blog has been renovated in order to make the reading of Grandad's original text easy, and to enhance the presentation.

My Maternal Grandparents, Louisa and Edward Beckmann

In early March I received from my long" lost "cousin Faye Beckmann, Email copies of an 81 page Memoir typed by my Grandfather Edward Beckmann in the early to mid 1950s. It had lain among the family papers of a deceased employer/friend of my Grandfather for over forty years after it was given to this gentleman to read. My Grandfather then died, and his former employer /friend died also and there it rested. The gentleman's son started examining the family documents some three years ago . Reading this substantial typescript , he quickly realised how greatly it would  be valued by my Grandfather's descendants. He succeeded in tracking down my cousin.She, through the much - maligned FACEBOOK found me, and through my Blogs "CONRAD BECKMANN"and "CARL DOPMEYER" ( respectively my Great Grandfather , a famous artist and my Great Great Grandfather a renowned sculptor and carver in his day) she realised my keen interest in family history.The Memoir is full of interest covering Grandad's early years in Germany, his adventurous youth in Germany, Poland, Hungary and back to Germany, his migration to Australia , the voyage, his Australian initiation in Melbourne , his settling down in Sydney , his marriage to the fair Louisa, the Bride with Orange blossom in her hair a la Queen Victoria ( who also married a German), his commercial disasters, his long but event filled service as a Railway Signalman and his reflections on his life and times.

To-day , after nearly two months of living with the Memoir and reading and re-reading it and researching leads it contained, I have completed reviewing the 81 pages, page by page in my Blog "EDWARD BECKMANN" : http://edwardbeckmann.blogspot.com.au/2016/04/an-innocent-abroad-my-memoir_22.html

. It has been a labor of love, but no less demanding a task for all that. It has been even more demanding , because various family members , noting the passing of the years, have urged me to "do something similar regarding my own life". . And that is how this present Blog came to be.I am loving the task of preparing and publishing it.

I had always regretted not being able to ask Grandad many things about his life, particularly in Germany. His Memoir answers many of those questions but raises many more - he does not give a thorough background or analysis of the family structure in Germany, but is content to refer to "Grandmother", "my relatives"etc as if presuming the readers' familiarity with everyone, or perhaps their disinterest. He says little about his Father's fame, nothing about his maternal Grandfather's ( my Great Grandfather's) fame. The whole is very rich in other detail nevertheless, even making it clear why he chose to come to Australia when most Germans and others were heading for the United States.

He goes into some detail about his life here, filling out detail of stories my Mother had told me about their persecution as "Germans"during the First World War, even though he had already been an Australian and "a British Subject"for ten years before the War started.There is in the whole work a great deal for anyone to reflect upon - about life itself, our treatment of each other and God's working in our lives for our greater good.

There are still research trails to be followed up from the Memoir and a Summary to be written for the Blog .

For me, the exercise has been a rich experience, and doubly so because I am now just a few years short of the age  which Grandad had reached when he was writing. So, in a lifetime sense, we have a similar point for viewing and reviewing. I only hope that my writing in my own Blog here, which may in time find its final form in a E - Book, will find as enthusiastic reader or readers in my descendants, as Grandad Beckmann has found in my Cousin Faye, her younger Brother Michael and me.

EDWARD BECKMANN is well worth a read I commend it to you. It also provides a great tribute to fidelity, love and respect in Marriage. 

.

1943 - 1945 GOING TO THE "PICTURES"(Later "The Movies" - NEVER "The Cinema")

                  The ARCADIA "Picture Show" at Lidcombe N.S.W.

The nearest "Picture Show"to our home in Berala was the Arcadia Theatre in Lidcombe - a slow thirty, or brisk twenty minutes walk away. There was a regular bus service stopping at the corner of our street, running between Lidcombe and Regents Park. The trains of course went from Berala(on the Main Southern Line) just one stop to Lidcombe - but we did not use them for going to "the pictures". After the show, the bus waited across the way outside the paper shop ( newsagent) next to the Post Office and always left packed full.

Mum and Dad always dressed up to go to "the pictures"and, since it would be past my bedtime, I was in my pyjamas and dressing gown - quite snug in the winter! At Interval after the Newsreel , a cartoon or two, and either a documentary (Lowell Thomas'Travelogues were regulars ( "And so we say FAREWELL to......") or a C Grade movie , Dad(sometimes with me ) would go out to one of the three "Milk Bars"one on either side of the "Picture Show"  and another across the road - his favourite "The Black Cat". We would have a milk shake and /or an ice cream and take something nice back to Mum in the "Picture Show" . The Milk Bars were very heavily crush-packed at interval, and were no place for a lady!.On odd occasions my older brother Pat would accompany us. He was thirteen years older than me, and not much interested in this little kid. The age difference was so great that I looked up to him at all times, though I know I would have welcomed some greater recognition from him. 

The show always commenced with the National Anthem(this was of course War time but I believe it had always been so.) That was of course, "God Save the King"( George VI - Father of the present Queen) the film backing it presented the rolling sea - everyone knew that Britannia ruled the waves - or as some wag later said, waived the rules- then the Naval Ensign was superimposed on the waves and the King's profile brought the whole to a resounding conclusion. EVERYONE stood! I felt proud and justified -we were going to beat those baddies!

We usually sat in the left hand front section toward the back ( come to think of it we still do that to-day).The  second rear section sloped gently back to the entrance doors from the Foyer. Years later when I went to "the pictures"on Saturday Afternoons with my mate Brien Dryden ( who lived opposite us) we usually sat in this area on the right hand side facing the screen.Some kids took advantage of the slope to release an occasional bounty of "JAFFAS"(Chocolate Balls coated with lurid Orange coloured glaze) toward the occupants on the flat area below. Most of the films we saw when the War was on were what we would now so loftily and superiorly call wartime propaganda. Of course our blokes, or the Poms or even the yanks had a tough time , but they ALWAYS came out on top of those nasty Nazies and evil little guys from up North. What else were you going to show people at risk of invasion? The rush to the EXIT was bad enough to catch the Bus - Heaven knows what it might become if people were shown how real the threat was!

My memories of those evenings at "the pictures"with my dear Mum and Dad are all fond, safe and happy - the simple joy of the childhood of those days.

It was in this same "Picture Show"that young , diminutive and beautiful Elsie Georgina Beckmann had met smart, good-looking John (Jack) Joseph Dixon , and had been attracted to him because he had, as she said later, "kind eyes".