A LONG LIFE FOR AN ANCIENT ROMAN!

1905 -  Baby Elsie Georgina Beckmann - beautiful innocence and, perhaps, a tad apprehensive before the camera.

1927 - The demur and beautiful Bride to be.

1928 The recently married Mrs and Mrs Jack Dixon

 Around 1944 - hard times  - (Taken with a Kodak Box Brownie Camera)

Forty years was a good long lifetime for the average ancient  Roman. 

To-day , 30th August,2011 marks the 40th Anniversary of the death of ELSIE GEORGINA DIXON (nee BECKMANN). It had been a hard knock life for the eldest child of the large Beckmann family. The little child Elsie's parents faced severe financial hardship as the young German immigrant husband and father struggled to find work in an Australia which found it difficult to climb out of the 1890's depression. When Influenza struck every member of the family , it was the child Elsie who nursed them all, parents and children back to health as her Father fondly recalled in his Memoir.

Only a little more than a year after her marriage to John Joseph ( "Jack") Dixon, the Great Depression destroyed the economic life of much of Australian society. Jack could not find work , but Elsie was able to do so in Vicars Woollen Mills at North Parramatta . World War II saved the Australian economy , as well as its freedom. It also gave Jack Dixon a job in the building of the vital Garden Island  Graving Dock.

The enjoyment of the post-war peace was blighted for Elsie by the stress of looking after her own and her husband's parents and mother respectively, and by her own succession of debilitating illnesses. Through it all she never failed to help others, to be loving and kind and a selfless peacemaker.

Her death from a serious heart attack was entirely  unexpected. Her 66 years of life left her fondly enshrined  in the hearts of all who knew her, and certainly of me her younger son.

Late 1960's - a totally informal early morning snap.My dear Mum and Dad

Requiescant in Pace.

                                                                       Can it REALLY be 40 years?

HERE TO THERE......AND BACK AGAIN - " TAKING THE CARS" TO BRISBANE

16.8.11.          As we learn from reading the history of the American Civil War, in those early railroad days, Americans did not speak of "taking the train", but of"taking the cars".And that is what I am about to do.

A journey of a thousand kilometers begins with a single .....suburban train ride from Pymble to Hornsby  (well two train rides actually, but that's another story.)

Big Nanny looks down as the Pymble Indicator promises a train to Hornsby.

A set of "cars" bound for HORNSBY

At Hornsby, as the evening chill descended on the Platform, the XPT arrived exactly on time and left with the same promptness. These trains are 1960's English best practice . The contrast with to-day's Freccia Rossa , TGV and ICE is quite marked, not only as regards speed, but also ride and appointments.The train consists of seven cars and it is topped and tailed with diesel locomotives of the same styling as the 

cars, save for the sloping front and rear.

No Big Nanny cameras , but the Indicator Board on Hornsby's Platform 3 announces the imminent arrival of the Brisbane bound XPT.

THE XPT BOUND FOR BRISBANE,  ROLLS SMOOTHLY INTO HORNSBY STATION

The purpose of the trip is to finish off some business in Brisbane, and friends have very kindly invited me to stay with them on Wednesday evening. So you will see that the XPT takes quite some time to reach Brisbane. Leaving Hornsby at precisely 4.46 pm on Tuesday it is due to complete it's 1,000 Kms journey at 6.30 am(ugh!) on Wednesday.13 3/4hours to cover 1,000 Kms. The sort of journey the Freccia Rossa would toss off in about 4hours! But we don't have the population density or,as yet, the national debt that makes such things possible. So, having just crossed the beautiful Hawkesbury River as the evening light of this Winter's day starts to fade ,we begin the climb northward.

I have not travelled these tracks since my adventure as a teenager, riding the Footplate of a C38 class Steam Locomotive as far as Hamillton in the suburbs of Newcastle.It is a great opportunity to see something of the countryside without the preoccupations of driving, or from thousands of feet up in a jet. Now we enter one of the tunnels my Grandfather wrote about, when describing his honeymoon trip in 1904, noting theirRomantic possibilities! Speed is increasing markedly but still primitive by European standards.

It is often forgotten that in the 1890's ,in England, the railways running to the South of London were achieving average speeds of 75mph hauled by steam locomotives. Nothing was allowed to impede the trains speedy progress, water was picked up by a scoop attached to the tender, from a trough laid between the tracks (this became common in England and later in the United States. But wait, there's more as they say - Passengers had booked seats, and for certain destinations, the rear car was detached "on the fly", and brought to a stop at the appropriate Station by the careful judgement of a guard in the car applying the manual brakes!! Those were the days!

Darkness is settling in as we climb out of Gosford,after a brief stop. Time for a pause and some reflection.And a little night music courtesy of the I Pod.Not much sleep in my seated position, even though the Seniors Discount has made First Class possible!
Five minutes to Four am. We arrive in Casino. The night has been spent in fitful "sleep". The track beyond Hamilton in the Newcastle suburbs increasingly deteriorates as the XPT heads further north. Occasional very heavy shocks and sharp noises penetrate the carriage's interior and at one spot the unevenness of the track sets up a  gyration in the carriage that caused it to creak unpleasantly. The reflection of the other side of the carriage on the very large windows which cover the space of two seats, creates for long periods, the effect of a ghostly other train pacing beside us. Unfortunately I could not capyure it properly with the camera - the light was far too weak. 

A RATHER UNSUCCESSFUL EFFORT TO CAPTURE THE REFLECTED IMAGE  CREATING THE "GHOST TRAIN" - BY CLICKING ON THE IMAGE YOU MAY BEGIN TO GET SOME IDEA OF THE IMPRESSION CREATED.

This is pathetic! North ofCasino the track is so poor it is setting up regular vibrations through the carriage causing alternately regular squeaking from all the seating and fittings and then a heavy irritating vibration noise. Oh well only 1 hour and fifty seven minutes to go!( My son, still resident in Brisbane, was later to remind me of how badly flooding rains had affected these tracks in the last few months!)

Five forty five a.m, I was enjoying the gradually lightening sky, when suddenly the carriage lights were all turned on, the outside world was at once invisible. Ah well, so much for the reflections on the problems of a man I  know with his beloved and grown up son - how shockingly some sad turns of events affect some folk! The day is dawning with heavy cloud cover it seems - maybe the clouds will clear away - let's hope so, for it is Ekka  Holiday in Brisbane.

As the XPT enters the outskirts of my dearly  loved- Brisbane -  "Urbs  Beata"  - I have clearly in mind that it was necessity that led us to move back to Sydney -  and nothing else could have done it.

There is a lot to be said for rail travel, but above all, it seems conducive to clearer thinking, and provides a sense of order that is not obtained in air travel - or is this merely the musing of a sleep deprived brain!

We just passed through one of the new Rail/Bus interchange Stations called PARK ROAD -  very impressive .Now rolling through SouthBank and mere minutes from Roma Street Station and the end of our journey -about ten minutes early!




After an abortive attempt to hire a car from ABEL ( office closed &not answering phones) , Iater a good breakfast at Jimmy's on the Mall and then went to HERTZ and picked up a car and drove out to our former home and threw myself into the work of preparing a vast quantity of books for transport. By Lunch time (BTW , when I was a boy, present day "Lunch" was called "Dinner" and present day  "Dinner" was called"Tea" - interesting) I had gone as far as I could for the day. I received a most welcome phone call from my son, inviting me to dinner at their home in Flagstone in the outer South West. Unfortunately I could not make it due to commitments with my hosts who had gone to a lot of trouble. But I suggested that I come to him and his wife and children at Browns Plains Shopping Mall - a half way point. We had a good get together , though the two youngest children were still in day care.It was so good to see them again , and all looking well.




What a busy day and a bit I spent in Brisbane! Our dear friends in Toowong - we have known them for over 20 years - gave me a right Royal welcome and treated me to a truly grand Dinner. Sadly I cannot have been a great guest : firstly I was exhausted due to lack of sleep on the train, and busy work at our previous home all morning and thirdly due to the worst Sinus problems I have had in many years. 


I slept like a rock and was up at 5.30 a.m. and on my way shortly after 7.00a.m. in the neat little Hyundai Getz 5 Door Hatch. First call was to make a delivery to the Good Jesuit and then I began the first of a planned 5 trips to Bellbowrie and back, ferrying books to their temporary home. I had forgotten to factor in the peak hour traffic and so had to fit everything into 3 round trips only! The Getz did a great job - quite surprising really. I arrived back at Roma Street Station with 15 minutes to spare.


THE WAY BACK


I don't understand why! The overnight  XPT Sydney to Brisbane returns the morning of its arrival in Brisbane as the Daytime Brisbane to Sydney service. However, to travel overnight from Brisbane to Sydney, it is necessary to travel from Brisbane Roma Street Station to Casino in Northern NSW to catch the Southbound nightime XPT to Sydney!! This includes a 1 to 1 1/2 hour wait in Casino for the daytime XPT to arrive from Sydney!! It is a bizarre and primitive situation. Why can't the daytime XPT to Brisbane go back from Brisbane as the overnight service??  The mysteries of Religion have nothing on the Railway timetablers in N.S.W.

Casino N.S.W. Red signal blocks the line to Brisbane - as XPT has just arrived late from Sydney.

Turn to the Left and we see the greater part of the train as it is being quickly prepared for the Sydney bound night service.My seat proves to be at the rear of the third window from the right.

As it happened the XPT from Sydney was running late so the several hundred passengers waiting at Casino in the cold and dark of night were unimpressed. Fortunately, the Railway staff managed to speed up the turn around and we left Casino only a little late - most of the 1/2 hour delay having been made up. Having despatched the gourmet Mrs Mac's Sausage Roll and an Arnott's Wagon Wheel I settled in to read and doze. About 1.30 a.m. (I think) , I awoke to find the train STOPPED and silent, and noticed a couple of men walking to and fro with Torches. Something was amiss. after about 20 minutes the XPT slowly REVERSED onto another track before resuming its Southbound journey. It turned out that we had pulled into a loop to let another train pass on the mainline. But, when the time came for us to rejoin the main line, the set of points ( switch in US parlance) would not work. Our Driver had to walk back to the reverse end of the train and back us onto the mainline. This delay made us 28 minutes late in all. There were I found out, 40 passengers with major connections to make in Sydney. Our driver had the XPT going at a spanking pace for the rest of the journey, finally reaching Sydney ( well Hornsby anyway) only 5 minutes late! We flashed through some Newcastle area stations at almost alarming speeds.


I arrived at Hornsby thoroughly exhausted by the exertions of the three day adventure, which proved surprisingly successful thank God and my Guardian Angel!


My dear wife was waiting with the car to whisk me off tour new home. She is a real star, up at the crack of dawn - earlier actually- to meet our 6.15 a.m. arrival - love makes us do crazy things!

A VERY MOVING EXPERIENCE

A MOVING SCENE

Having decided that we should move to Sydney for the remainder of our lives, to be with the majority of our family and oldest friends, we had the task of making the decision become a physical reality. It was our intention to move from our normal family- sized home to a two bedroom apartment/home unit and, as a consequence,we had to shed many familiar and even cherished ( for the memories they called up) possessions.Several items, or groups of items posed particular problems - because though valuable in terms of cost, they had no, or almost no, market value but could not be fitted into a two bedroom unit. We tried E Bay with no result at all . Accordingly the Saturday Garage Sale was unavoidable. Now, we live in such a way as to greatly value our real privacy.(Blogs notwithstanding.) The very thought of strangers pawing our ( even surplus) possessions did not appeal at all. But needs must, and with ads in the Classified section of the Newspaper and its websites we had our first visitors on the Friday evening. One was a lovely old Scots gentleman "George"by name who bought the Lawnmower(which happily started at first attempt), then turned out to be a model railway enthusiast and bought a railway print for his son. He also had a strong interest in old clocks and bought an inoperative old American Mantle Clock. He was a delightful gent - a painter and an enthusiast for the willdlife that abounds in the area.The Saturday brought hordes of folk who bought all manner of things. My two favourites were "Aaron"a solidly built young Chinese fellow who, with his Mum, bought stacks of items to help fit out a house he is renovating. He also agreed to buy extensive Steelbuilt shelving from the Garage which had held our  book stocks from the failed business. He came back to dis-assemble and take this away that evening about 6.00p.m. Aaron was a delight. He had a great personality and friendly smile, boundless energy and a very sharp analytical mind.And he was as strong as an ox with a great sense of humor. Down came the shelving , with some clumsy help from me, but in the most economical way thanks to him Up it went onto the truck with no fuss , and packed in such a way that its footprint on the truck was tiny AND he had managed to pack 25 plastic  storage boxes he had bought from us inside that racking. Then, despite my very factual warnings about the limitations of the large XEROX Photocopier we no longer required, after some deliberation, he decided to take it - to my relief- and then he demonstrated further practical skills designing a rope sling to lift the XEROX without damaging it - using the truck's rear end loading crane . Brilliant!

READY FOR ACTION

My other favourite was a young English Jamaican migrant and her husband who were introduced by a neighbour and were happy to take a number of good quality items we were happy to see go at no cost. She was happy, appreciative and delightfully mannered.

The big day arrived. On Tuesday 26th July, 2011 the big day arrived - promptly at 7.30 a.m. the Removalists arrived. No Pantechnicon these days , but rather a muscle bound truck carrying a moderate sized Rail Freight Container, Our two young tattooed happy warriors set about the task with a will, and a humour so good that at times we thought they might be on something! But no - they were just nice, happy blokes and really hard workers

ONR OF OUR TATTOOED HAPPY WARRIORS AND A HEAVY CAPITAL

By about 1,00 p.m.they had catalogued and labelled everything and shifted it into the Container and with hearty waves ( encouraged by good tips) they had the heavy-laden brute of a truck on its way.Right on 1,00pm the Rubbish Removalist arrived to carry away all that had not been sold at Saturday's Garage Sale or that had been cast off in our rendering down, He was another good humour man and a barrel of energy. A large dead refrigerator was no trouble and seemed to rise onto his trailer with miraculous ease.Tons of unwanted magazines went the same way along with old lamps etc., etc., and so many other things that make you wonder why or how we all acquire so much in the way of unnecessary goods. It seems he specialises in trying to return many of these items to active service with the co-operation of the St Vincent de Paul Society.After being paid handsomely, only to be followed by the Carpet Cleaner. Using the "dry" method, he did a remarkably good job and the place came up like new, save for four small marks where the rubber feet of a computer sound system had somehow infused a stain..

Our faithful family car was very heavily laden with a variety of precious items including sewing equipment and computer equipment and other bits and pieces that came to notice as the house was emptied.By about 4.00 p.m. we were on the road to Sydney. As darkness fell we began the tortuous climb up toward Cunningham's Gap where the traffic is reduced to a single lane as repair work goes on to rectify the havoc caused by the torrential rains of our Summer of Disasters. At length we reached our intended overnight stay at provincial Warwick. We were thoroughly exhausted, but astounded at how well everything had gone and pleased at the number of fine people we had met in the complex process of arranging our departure.

We managed to get a worthwhile discount on a nice room in a good Motel, enjoyed a light dinner in our room and fell happily to sleep.

We rose early on the Wednesday morning and drove into Warwick for an early Breakfast At Macca's , refuelled at Woolies discount price settled the Motel account and headed out for Sydney some 750Kms South on the New England Highway. It was a crisp cold morning , but quite fine Queensland weather. The trip South was mercifully uneventful and we arrived at our daughter Justine's Pymble home tired and exhausted mentally, and physically. Stage One was ended. We fell happily into a loving , warm and generous welcome.

Stage Two would be the finding of  a new home. Stage Three would be tidying up loose ends in Brisbane ( my job) and bringing our new home to life.

With God's Grace we have so far achieved a great deal in a complex operation. We pray for His continuing support as we re-order our lives and begin trying to repay some little of the abundant and generous hospitality extended to us by friends and relations on our visits to Sydney over the last 20 years.

I'M NOT SO SELF- ASSURED

"When I was younger, so much younger than to-day,
I never needed anybody's help in any way...

" But now those days are gone, I'm not so self-assured..."

.Amazing what can be done with pictures and words - even from the Beatles and with music added...just as well the system doesn't facilitate that.

I certainly didn't feel so self-assured when after a few magnificent days in TUT City (Melbourne while the TUTANKHAMEN Exhibition lasts) I returned to find BLOGGER had changed everything behind the scenes. So far I have not found any thrilling changes but rather much confusion. Rather like when someone tidies up your work space and you can't find a thing!And as far as I can see there was no forewarning or introduction to the NEW ORDER.(I am prepared to be corrected on that - since I deliberately chose to leave the computer behind on the trip to the icy winds of TUT town.)

The TUTANKHAMEN Exhibition was a grand treat courtesy of my Brother - in -Law Tony for Robyn and me and also for Marianne and Nathan who were enjoying a longer stay in the South. We also took in the VIENNA Exhibition at the National Gallery of Victoria and then Marianne and Nathan treated Tony , Robyn and me to a Banquet Dinner at "Ginger Boy"Restaurant. It was a wonderful night, superb food and wines and even beer in a brown paper bag - go! - try it!. and don't miss the "Son in law eggs". What a sensation!

Now its back to the grind as we try to render our possessions down , so that they will fit into a two bedroom apartment ! And an Apartment in Sin City at that!  We remain totally unreconstructed QUEENSLANDERS at heart, but since most of our family and oldest friends live in Sydney - our city of origin, we have reluctantly decided we must return there. Strangely a number of our family and friends , on hearing our decision have said "I'm not surprised."or"I  thought you would."The decision was actually a surprise to US!

So, much confusion and packing and quotes for this and cancelling this and that. I long to be settled.

To ease the pain, the weather here has been freezing cold - the coldest Winter in Brisbane , as for much of the Continent in 30/40 years. Global Warming - the Empress has no clothes. Very taxing. 

*1950 - 1954 MARIST BROTHERS LIDCOMBE - BLUE AND GOLD

SCHOOL UNIFORMS -1950 A Rather Tubby me in the Hat and best mate Brien Dryden
who went to Marist Brothers Auburn.

1950 Modern Times - the War was behind us and the good times were upon us. There was that pesky War in Korea, but that was small beer and the Communist insurgency in Malaysia, but ...... and then the Mau Mau terrorists in Kenya.... but apart from that....things were pretty good!

Mum and Dad decided that I should move to Marist Brothers Lidcombe to commence 5th Class in Primary School. This was my elder brother Pat's old school where he had finished up during the War years, in the time when the diminutive but legendary Brother Loyola was Principal.

Lidcombe  Station is the junction of the Main Southern Line and the Main Western Line , the former heading off to Melbourne and the latter to Broken Hill and the South Australian Border. Lidcombe Station was about twenty minutes brisk walk from my home, or one could catch the bus - McVicars( lots of old Albions  with front mudguards and bonnets) from the end of the street, or walk for about 10 minutes to Berala Station and catch the City bound train the one stop to Lidcombe.
Despite the fact that it is an eminently plausible name, Lidcombe is probably unique worldwide, because the name was cobbled together by two local businessmen and I think Councillors , from their surnames LIDbury and Lar COMBE. Such distinction!

In my early years,1950/51 I used to travel by train to Lidcombe and back. In the Winter the unair-conditioned carriages' windows would fog up in the cold from exhaled air, and in the majority of carriages this was combined with smoke from cigarettes ( there being only two out of eight electric train  carriages designated "Non-Smoking") . The air was vile and I preferred to stand in the vestibule near the sliding doors where some fresh though cold air crept in.from around the doors.From Lidcombe's central double-sided platform it was a steep climb up the stairs to the overbridge which also housed the Ticket Office and a Newsagent and then a right turn to the North Side and off along John Street toward St. Joachim's Church ( then half -completed) and the School, just beyond the State School. The "publics"as we knew them, were not so much a factor here as they had been in our minds at Berala where their School was much further away.We studiously ignored them and they us.

The School and Parish site was a large one , occupying the Western end of a block bounded by John Street running North/South from the Station toward Parramatta Road ( or the Western Road as it had been known) and Keating Street on the North side and Mills Street on the South Side. The School was built at the Eastern end of the property facing North. It was built in cream brick, which was uncommon, and I believe it had won an architectural prize when built in the 1930's. It was an attractive building with a substantial Northside Verandah on both levels, the upper one bricked up to a boy's chest height and it was referred to as the parapet.There were stairs at either end of the Verandahs.On the Ground Floor, from the East end The Chemistry Room with tiered seating and lab benches, then 5th Class, then 6th Class then the Principal's Office at the rear and a Kit Room at the front. On the Upper level I can recall First Year, then Second Year and finally Third Year of the Secondary School at the West end.

Beyond the School at the East end, the Playground was on a lower level ( about three feet lower) . At the Keating Street side there was an old shelter from the sun then a Toilet Block and the Brick wall with a gate next to the drinking taps entering the grounds of the Brothers'Monastery a two- storeyed building in the same cream brick,  with its own small Chapel and a direct Frontage to Mills Street. I can recall going into the Monastery on only two or three occasions , to get something from, or deliver something to, the Brothers'Common Room,  which was often pressed into service to organise major events at the School.

As I remember it, my Teacher's were :

5th Class   Brother Verius whom I liked and admired a lot, he seemed a very large manly fellow, crew cut grey hair with dark complexion - now I think, maybe Lebanese? He was kind and made School interesting, with a good fund of stories.

6th Class   Brother Samuel whom I also liked very much and who liked me I believe , but I was in the second rank of "favourites" not being any good at sports at all. Our 6th Class was HUGE, I believe there were 62 Students - more than double present day norms,and Brother Samuel had his hands full. He was very tall and young with a largeish nose and he was very lanky. He had a good rapport with the kids whilst preserving firm discipline.

1st Year   Brother Albanus ( Now in the sad Post- Conciliar shambles Brother Peter Salta). He was my favourite Teacher of all time. He was also young and very athletic , with dark, Italian complexion and great energy. I can still recall him gathering up his Soutane and flying up the stairs in leaps and bounds at a great rate!He had a great Faith and devotion to Our Lord and Our Lady which I was very ready to warm to. He was very good to us boys in giving his great enthusiasm to the cause of our education both secular and religious.He was the very model of what a Religious should be, On occasions, he would announce a "Reign of Terror" when discipline would be strictly enforced - but I doubt anyone was done an injustice. I am glad to read that he is still loved by even more recent students , as lives out an active retirement.

2nd Year   As best I remember it , Brother Vincent Ferrer. Poor man - his Class control skills were not strong at the best of times , and 13 Yr Old boys can be a handful! I think they sensed a weakness in him , and instinctively moved to take advantage of it.

3rd Year   Brother Loman, the School Principal. He was a nice man, a very earnest, undemonstrative personality, but a dedicated serious teacher. 3rd Year was of course difficult and some boys had no intention of going further in their schooling and were already scenting the heady air of "freedom"- which made them fractious.
I recall that in that Year, we had a boy expelled for Shoplifting which was a shock for the School. I can recall his name, but it would seem unfair to mention it. It is a difficult and surprising age at which personalities are really beginning to achieve some degree of maturity and alliances begin to be formed and broken as some move ahead and others remain in their relatively childlike state.

Our uniform was a light grey suit, blue shirt, blue tie with pairs of gold diagonal stripes and a grey hat. The hat I wore as little as possible. I have never been a "hat person" . I think my large hat size had something to do with it.

We had several colour defined in- school sporting teams - they were not named "Houses"- but the Reds, Blues, Golds and Greens got us by.I have in mind that I was most often in the "Blues", but whether it was Athletics,or swimming ( which I could not and still cannot do) ,football or Cricket  -I was a disaster - none of it interested me, I lacked physical aptitude and condition - and as much as I could I spent the time day- dreaming and wishing it was over.

An institution in the School was the Tuck Shop which was at the Western end of the building but back from it toward Mills Street and beside the Presbytery Garages. It was run by "Ma"as everyone called her and featured such exotic dishes as, in winter, hot Mince meat Bread Rolls and those ubiquitous commercially made Blackberry Jam Tarts  about 4"Inches in Diameter in short crust pastry with 1/2"high edges and a ring of cream inside it - Bliss and black teeth!

St Joachim's Church and the large Presbytery behind it was always a joy to me. It was half finished, TThe Sanctuary, Sacristy and two side altars completed and about 20 feet of the Nave  - then it was walled -up in Fibro I think. But by keeping one's eyes on the High Altar and Tabernacle, it was possible to concentrate on Our Lord present in the Blessed Sacrament. I loved to pay visits there on arrival at School and on the way home. and sometimes at Lunchtime. The Parish Priest retired but still living in the Presbytery was Father Lloyd. Other Priests I knew of  there were Father John Gallagher and young crew cut athletic Father Barry Nobbs whom I admired very much - he was extremely devout. I was shocked to hear in later years that "he had left the Priesthood" - I can't think who it was told me - but I would like to bust them on their stupid gossiping nose! BECAUSE HE HAD NOT DONE SO! Rather , with the Archbishop of  Sydney's approval he had gone to work in the Missions in Papua New Guinea and was still there a few years ago and probably still is.So much for idle gossip!

I enjoyed my years at Lidcombe and always did well academically there without great effort. I was not one dedicated to homework or exceptional study, I just found it very easy to learn and get along. In truth I never did seriously apply myself to any intellectual effort until my time in the Commonwealth Bank years later as a Lender, developing lending proposals,assessing diverse business situations, analysing facts and marshalling them and arguing and defending a case. The skills I learned there were brought to a very high level of development later still in the Banque Nationale de Paris in relation to major corporations, private and Public, and I was able to diversify them and apply them much more widely later still as Canonical Financial Administrator of the Archdiocese of Brisbane, in areas as diverse as Finance, Law, General Management and Ecclesiastical Affairs.

By the time I was in Secondary School , I was attending daily Mass at St.Joachim's usually at 7.00 a.m. So I was always early at School and got to know more and more fellows better just yarning before School. I always followed the practice of not "running with the mob"but choosing who I wanted to speak to or was interested in speaking to. It served me well over the years.

As the years went by , I came to be regarded as one of the trusty and reliable students and on several occasions I was sent on messages for the School into the City and over to the Brother's' North Sydney Monastery.On one occasion this led to a painful but ridiculous experience. I had been sent to a Religious Goods Supplier, "Christopher & Co."in York Street Sydney. The name and address had been carefully impressed on me. But by the time I reached York Street, I was looking for "Columbus & Co." ( I had then, and have always, enjoyed playing with names!) Up and down York Street, several times , trying various combinations of the street number - but no "Columbus & Co."- oddly there was a "Christopher & Co."but I was having nothing of that distraction. Finally in great anguish I phoned the School and was set straight!! But my ingrown toe nail was in the meantime giving me Hell!

 I greatly admired some of the fellows at "Liddie"as we called it - Frank Orioles son of an Italian Greengrocer who wanted to become a Priest but was not allowed by his family. He later became a Doctor and died just a few years back - a lovely , gentlemanly man. Alan Pooley a wiry, good athlete and very bright scholar, Peter Cassidy who seemed to be able to wring larrikin fun out of life and whom I kept bumping into on trains to and from the City as the years went by. He worked as Qantas Flight Crew I think.Wallace Simpson was a good friend and Ray Hall also. They were good years - if one had to go to School it was hard to beat MBHS Lidcombe I reckon.

*1963 MY FIRST CAR DEUTSCHLAND UBER ALLES!

1961 VOLKSWAGEN - MY PRIDE & JOY - WHEELS AT LAST!

In 1963 at age 23 I finally was in a position to buy a car. Already the fascination with things German had ensured that it HAD to be a VDub. In any case, the mighty VWs were enjoying cult status at the time, and why not? They had several times won the epic Round Australia Car Rallies, knocking the Peugeot 203s off their perch. And if we didn't know it before , full page ads. in the daily press told us that our VDubs were so well built they would float!Which they did. 

Driving around in a VDub made one a member of an instant fraternity, exchanging discreet waves of the hand or nods of the head as we drove along . That was a bit demanding as there were so many of us. The Fuhrer would have been pleased!(Joke - in case any of the humourless PC police are reading!)

The car was bought from a VW dealer in the heart of Double Bay. It had had one owner - a Commercial Traveller- who used it on regular trips Sydney to Melbourne. It was in superb condition and had done only 23,000 miles and went like a VDub dream! At that stage they still had orange lighted turning indicator arms which came up out of the door posts and dropped back with a good Germanic clunk when cancelled. In addition, there was no fuel gauge! Instead, there was a floor mounted small lever which when turned as the engine began to splutter, gave access to a Reserve level of fuel which was good for about 40 miles I think.I was so absorbed in the joy of mobility that I did not think much about the practicalities surrounding this device.Until one day......heading West on Parramatta Road, just at the junction with City Road, the car started jerking about , the engine sputtered, and in great confusion, to the sounds of derisive following cars ( and horrors, possibly trams!-I dare'nt look) hanging onto the Steering Wheel with my right hand, I reached down with my left hand to turn the Reserve lever...but couldn't contact it!!!In desperation I took a quick look down and kicked at it with my foot and all was well as the Reserve came on stream. As I drove off looking resolutely ahead I realised it could only work properly foot activated. The worst times are when you realise you have been stupid!

I have very happy memories of the VDub, the comforting reliability of the chaff-cutter sound from the great hearted flat four rear engine and the dream to use Gear Box. Oh! That brings to mind one special feature( I nearly said "deficiency"!)- no synchro on First! It seems incredible now , and even then the Car Reviewers were hypercritical. But we loyal VDubbers would not publicly acknowledge it as a problem when speaking to drivers of "ordinary" cars".

I have had one occasion to sit in the front seat of a Beetle as they were also known, in recent years and found it hard to escape the idea that the windscreen was "in my face"and that a fuel tank "bomb"was immediately in front of me! We change after long years of conditioning,this time for the better. But it isn't always so.

A very poor photo of the 23yrs old Banker and his German wheels -
I guess these days it would have to be a Beamer !

IT WAS A WEDNESDAY TOO.

My Grandfather Edward Beckmann

To-day Wednesday, 29th June, 2011 is the 49th Anniversary of the death at 84 Years of age of my Mum's German born Father Edward Beckmann. Ever the gentleman, he lived a remarkably full life. God Love him! And May he rest in peace.

And it was a Wednesday also on that day, 29th June, 1962.

You will enjoy his Blog :http://edwardbeckmann.blogspot.com/