Mapping it out: Heather’s map of 1930s streets. Who lived where?
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Firstly, I must say thank you for your warm response to last week’s story about our mayor. Shane Sali also received a number of calls and was kind enough to ring me about them.
I did, though, have just a little bit of fun with one of our readers. Let’s call him Rob because that’s not his name. He emailed me as follows: “You didn’t mention the type of retail business the mayor has — that spoilt the article.” He signed off with his name, “Go Magpies”.
I replied that, in the first paragraph, I mentioned three fashion stores and that those stores were, in fact, Traffik, Shop 221 and Arcade Fashions (which I hadn’t mentioned). Then, I sent him a “Go Tigers” message. He apologised — and included his “Go Magpies” logo. I then told him that he had nothing to apologise for — except being a Collingwood supporter. I do hope he has a sense of humour. It amused me!
Dangerous to assume
However, I am at fault here because I made an assumption that ‘everyone’ knew that the Sali family has had fashion stores for decades — and which ones they were. I’m not sure what year Traffik was ‘born’ — but just because I remember it in the 1980s does not mean that everyone else does, too. Bad communication, Marnie — learn from it.
You know what people say about assume — or am I assuming again?
Recollection of a Shepparton girl
A couple of weeks ago, I mentioned a book written by Heather McNeill Gribben — and recommended to me by the McNeill family. There is so much in this book of interest that I would like to publish a snippet or two from time to time. Heather’s daughter, Maralyn, is quite happy for this to happen.
I should tell you something about Heather and give you some background.
She was born at the Shepparton Guildford Hospital in 1930. Her father, John, had migrated to Shepparton from Glasgow 20 years earlier. Their family, which included an older brother, George Stuart, lived in McCracken St. Their neighbours were Fred Clauson, Jack Pick (son of John Pick, Nixon St) and Bill Maher. These four blocks of land were all purchased on the same day — according to Heather’s father.
Heather has written that, in their neighbourhood, everyone knew everyone else, although Margaret Clauson was her best friend.
She started school at Fryers St in 1936 and has written extensively about this. Her memory of this early stage in her life was fantastic. She even lists around 50 people she remembers being at the school at the same time — and there are well-known Shepparton names among them.
Heather has written:“Opposite the school in Fryers St were two shops where we could go and buy a bag of lollies for a penny. These shops were called Mrs Mackie’s and Mr Thompson’s.
“Albert’s Bakery was next to the Star Theatre across Corio St and past the Scots Church, three pence for a pie and four pence for a pastie.”
I started at the same school 13 years later. Pies were then four pence. I don’t know about pasties; I didn’t eat them because they had vegetables in them. (The rate of inflation, averaged over 13 years, equalled 1.9 per cent)
Heather continues:
“We marched into school to the beat of the kettle drum, and no-one dared drag their feet. The schoolyard had a wire fence with a wooden rail on top. The old pepper trees around the inside of the fence were quite smooth in some spots, where countless children would climb them during lunchtime and recess. We had competitions to see who could run the fastest — and Margaret Clausen always won.”
Heather doesn’t mention the bars on which I used to turn somersaults and pretend I was in a circus. I frequently got into trouble for being late — because I always had to do five more somersaults after the bell. (This was the rebel in me.) Perhaps the bars weren’t installed in 1936.
That is all of Heather’s work for this week. I hope it rings a bell or two with some of you.
Two books
This isn’t a local story but a rather surprising one.
Since Christmas, I have read two interesting books — about strong, imperfect women around the turn of the century (the previous century, the 1900s). Both novels were based in London, and the writing style was unique. They drew me to the point that, towards the end of the first book, I was so engaged by the words and the situation the author had created that I didn’t know I was crying until the book got wet. There were vivid descriptions of World War I — in Belgium and France — and Australians actually got several mentions. The author’s name is Pip Williams.
I read what I could find about the author, but all I learned was that she was born in London, raised in Sydney, and now lives in the Adelaide Hills. So, she’s an Aussie, beating the Brits at something they do well — writing British history. She is also a New York Times best-selling author.
So, I sent her an email, telling her I would like to mention her books in my column. Here is a part of her reply, which was immediate.
Hello Marnie,
What an intriguing email. Thank you for reading my books and finding them worthy of a line or two in your local paper. Shepparton is a great regional city — years ago, my family stopped there on our way to the snow. We had dinner at a local Thai restaurant, and all agreed it was the best Thai food we’d ever had (outside Thailand), and we’d had a lot.
To answer your questions — the surf brought my family to Australia. My dad was a keen surfer, and so he and mum applied for the assisted passage scheme, and we ended up being the last of the 10-pound Poms. We arrived in 1972. I stayed a year in Maroochydore, then settled in Manly. I moved with my family to the Adelaide Hills when my kids were preschoolers. We wanted to live on a little bit of land and grow our own food (impossible in Manly).
While the progressive politics of South Australia’s past were not the reason we moved, I am very admiring of them nonetheless. It feels good to live in a place that was the first place in the world to give women full and equal suffrage in 1894 (always remembering that women in New Zealand could vote a year earlier, but they could not run for parliament until 30 years later), it also gave Aboriginal people the right to vote at that time, and it was the first place in Australia to decriminalise homosexuality.
I hope that satisfies your curiosity,
All the best,
Pip Williams
I notice that, although Pip’s first book was printed in China, the second states “proudly printed in Australia” (Victoria, actually).
Now you know more about the author than the books, and that’s where I’m going to leave it — except for the titles and this comment. Both are a little slow in the beginning, but you will soon find yourselves turning the pages quickly and, as one reader has just told me, “until 1.30 am”. I know at least six people who have read both, and I am about to lend mine (two friends are waiting).
The Dictionary of Lost Words and The Bookbinder of Jericho. Note: read ‘Lost Words’ first. ‘Jericho’ is a companion novel.
Ten-pound Poms
This is not the first time ‘10-pound Poms’ have turned up in Town Talk. A few went home, I remember, complaining about the place, and there was a derisive term doing the rounds at the time. But I wonder if anyone has ever totalled their contribution to this country. Perhaps Jeanette Powell could work on that small task — in her spare time.
That’s it for this week. In an hour or two, I’m going to visit one of our readers — one I’ve never met but have been communicating with for three years. We have been repeatedly saying, “We must have a coffee,” but, with one thing and another, it has taken this long.
I am looking forward to it immensely.
As to the rest of you, how are you doing? There is a television advertisement saying, “The days are long and the years are short.” Is this what you are feeling? For me, at this time, everything is short — days, weeks, months and years. For those of you who have been asking about my husband, thank you. He has finally recovered, but his short-term memory is shot.
15°C