Port Augusta - Moving on and around
Without Prejudice
It's all a blur to me after Jamie died. I know there was Baroque style hotel, in Adelaide with shining silver cutlery and and rich red velvet everywhere, curtains pulled back with gold swags and a kindly Hotel Manager that just adored Mum and Dad.
We seemed to be there a lot. I remember being there for Christmas and unpacking boxes of goodies from Granny Wilsher in Yorkshire.
Pontefract tea cakes, wine gums, Jubes in boxes and tubes of smarties, Bassetts licorice all-sorts and annuals of Beano and Girls Crystal. We loved our Granny Wilsher, and Aunty Pat and Aunty Betty, my Mothers sisters. (Never ever say to a Mother who has lost her child that she has many more and should class herself as lucky. Mum told us that what was Aunty Betty had said to her and they didn't talk for many years. )
So we were in Adelaide, we went on Popeye the ferry and to the movies a lot. There was one a bout a Time Clock, a little boy was locked in a bank vault and there was 24 hours to get him out--Gave me nightmares, lets not even talk about the Ten Commandments,
I just used to duck under the seat and slide on the floor and refuse to watch any more after I saw them whip the slaves. My parents loved the movies and I guess it was a cool place to be with so many little kids.
Once when I was in Port Augusta Dad's name was flashed up on the screen, printed, our car was on fire. I remember Mum dropping a cigarette in the car before we had gone in and hadn't been able to find it. I realise how young I was, now, to be able to read my Dad's name on the screen.
I know we stayed in caravan parks after we left Adelaide, we had a cat, a white Tom with no name (the no name cat from Breakfast At Tiffany) a gnarly Face and a savage temper.
He was :"Moody" and acted like he hated us all, which I am sure he did. But we loved him anyway.
We would have had to as he had a habit of disappearing into the bush for hours when we let him out of the car to pee. We would be there shouting in to the dark. Puss, Puss and nearly wetting our pants in agitation that Dad would take off before we found him.
Dad would never take off and that damn cat would saunter back at his leisure. sometimes hours later. But we would wait. And wait, because he was our constant, our link to our home and Jamie.
It must have been so hard for my parents to leave Port Augusta where their son was buried. I can never venture far from Lauren. That takes courage.
But we took him forward with us, our champion boy, in our hearts and minds and memories. We never forgot him even though we didn't talk of him.
Nowadays people are encouraged to talk about dead loved ones. And I say why not? we loved them, they mattered. But in those days it was expected for us, especially us British, to keep a stiff upper lip.
And children were still quiet at the table in those days, except for Jamie, he was irreverent. Once telling us his favourite joke.
"how many kinds of beans are there?"
And when we said we didn't know, back shot the punchline
"Green beans, baked beans and human beans"
Mum and Dad occasionally allowed us to talk but "Little children were to be seen and not heard" Dad and Mum expected that from us and we were well behaved little children that did as they were told. So we learned to hide secrets and not talk of certain matters, in case we upset Mum and Dad.
And we were to go on not talking of him, for many years.
We were funny little kids when I think back to that time. I know we weren't encouraged to bring kids home. Mum thought a lot of them were scruffy, which is a laugh, as we were scruffy.
I look back to those times and we were so dirt poor after Mum and Dad left Port Augusta. Bone rocking, stone motherless cold poor. And there is no worse kind when you also have intelligence beyond your years. You're poor and proud.
We'd go home to our parents from various schools after being bullied or picked on. They would both lecture us, especially Mum, that we were Scottish and British and the Scots were warriors and never surrendered, and neither did the British.
So we would march back in to the school, heads held high, stiff upper lip little soldiers and we won them over, usually always.
Or we got beaten the crap out of.
George and David copped it a fair bit and Jackie would step in and wait for the bullies and then we would all set on them. Jackie sat on one once, a big fat kid and made him cry, we were in shock.
That day we learned about bullies and how they caved in if you stood up to them Ian was always at high school as far as I can remember and that would be right as he's seven years older than me.
Ian was a Dux at Cowra High School and I was a child that won a lot of the Exams and tests as I was such a little nerd. Head always in a book and i could speed read. I read everything and still do,
We were kids of the late 50's and early sixties and it was great time to be a kid. We had radio, then TV, we watched I love Lucy and The Eddy Cantor Show, we listened to The Lone Ranger and we played outside.
I can't recall a pervert until I was 12. Even the mention of one. We swam, joined Squad for swimming, ran, made bonfires, hung out in an old water tank, rolling it and using it as a cubby.
School holidays were spent outdoors, usually with a jam sandwich and water from a neighbours tap. Groceries were brought on a back of a truck in a wooden box and was magic to unpack.
We had an ice man that came once a week with a giant block of ice in a pair of huge claw like nippers, dripping in the heat on the boiling hot paths.
We had a great big Dictionary that was the size of a breadbox and had little steps that indicated the letters. We had encyclopedias which we devoured, a massive bible with colour plates and lots of other religious books.
Mum turned atheist after Jamie died and we no longer went to Sunday School, Jackie and I with our matching outfits, our fuzzy wuzzy angora boleros and our pretty dresses with our little hats and white gloves.
When we were in Port Augusta and Dad had the business we had our own maid, an aboriginal lady called Morag and we went to a dressmaker to have our outfits made. Obviously we were a lot better off, financially there.
But Dad was a dreamer and it was always on to places new, sometimes as soon as 3 months, or whenever the bills started getting too big.
And trust me they were not going to get paid. we ended up in Sydney. We towed a green caravan, and somewhere was a moving van coming along behind. I don't know how we all packed in the car. Kids, cat, Mum and Dad and our luggage.
Dad was an expert at packing a car, he took to it like a logistical problem with rulers and paper and pen. Mum was an expert at lunches and food. We always had devon and tomato sauce sandwiches on fresh white bread.
Sliced bread had come into being and was the kind that you left your fingerprints in. We drank warm lemonade until we realised it made us thirstier and played endless games of hang man and sang ditties and did songs "in the round".
We were an endless supply of delight to our parents, a big responsibility, but we had them and we had each other and that was the way it was.
I often longed for a long time friend, but that doesn't happen when you move so much. The first place we went to in Sydney was Lansdowne Caravan Park. A big caravan park near Liverpool. Sydney was a massive city to us country bumpkins. The stores were unbelievable, the clothes, shoes, toys. Mum and Dad bought me the first Cindy doll. I think we were there a while and then we went to Avalon, to a house.
Love Janette
It's all a blur to me after Jamie died. I know there was Baroque style hotel, in Adelaide with shining silver cutlery and and rich red velvet everywhere, curtains pulled back with gold swags and a kindly Hotel Manager that just adored Mum and Dad.
We seemed to be there a lot. I remember being there for Christmas and unpacking boxes of goodies from Granny Wilsher in Yorkshire.
Pontefract tea cakes, wine gums, Jubes in boxes and tubes of smarties, Bassetts licorice all-sorts and annuals of Beano and Girls Crystal. We loved our Granny Wilsher, and Aunty Pat and Aunty Betty, my Mothers sisters. (Never ever say to a Mother who has lost her child that she has many more and should class herself as lucky. Mum told us that what was Aunty Betty had said to her and they didn't talk for many years. )
So we were in Adelaide, we went on Popeye the ferry and to the movies a lot. There was one a bout a Time Clock, a little boy was locked in a bank vault and there was 24 hours to get him out--Gave me nightmares, lets not even talk about the Ten Commandments,
I just used to duck under the seat and slide on the floor and refuse to watch any more after I saw them whip the slaves. My parents loved the movies and I guess it was a cool place to be with so many little kids.
Once when I was in Port Augusta Dad's name was flashed up on the screen, printed, our car was on fire. I remember Mum dropping a cigarette in the car before we had gone in and hadn't been able to find it. I realise how young I was, now, to be able to read my Dad's name on the screen.
I know we stayed in caravan parks after we left Adelaide, we had a cat, a white Tom with no name (the no name cat from Breakfast At Tiffany) a gnarly Face and a savage temper.
He was :"Moody" and acted like he hated us all, which I am sure he did. But we loved him anyway.
We would have had to as he had a habit of disappearing into the bush for hours when we let him out of the car to pee. We would be there shouting in to the dark. Puss, Puss and nearly wetting our pants in agitation that Dad would take off before we found him.
Dad would never take off and that damn cat would saunter back at his leisure. sometimes hours later. But we would wait. And wait, because he was our constant, our link to our home and Jamie.
It must have been so hard for my parents to leave Port Augusta where their son was buried. I can never venture far from Lauren. That takes courage.
But we took him forward with us, our champion boy, in our hearts and minds and memories. We never forgot him even though we didn't talk of him.
Nowadays people are encouraged to talk about dead loved ones. And I say why not? we loved them, they mattered. But in those days it was expected for us, especially us British, to keep a stiff upper lip.
And children were still quiet at the table in those days, except for Jamie, he was irreverent. Once telling us his favourite joke.
"how many kinds of beans are there?"
And when we said we didn't know, back shot the punchline
"Green beans, baked beans and human beans"
Mum and Dad occasionally allowed us to talk but "Little children were to be seen and not heard" Dad and Mum expected that from us and we were well behaved little children that did as they were told. So we learned to hide secrets and not talk of certain matters, in case we upset Mum and Dad.
And we were to go on not talking of him, for many years.
We were funny little kids when I think back to that time. I know we weren't encouraged to bring kids home. Mum thought a lot of them were scruffy, which is a laugh, as we were scruffy.
I look back to those times and we were so dirt poor after Mum and Dad left Port Augusta. Bone rocking, stone motherless cold poor. And there is no worse kind when you also have intelligence beyond your years. You're poor and proud.
We'd go home to our parents from various schools after being bullied or picked on. They would both lecture us, especially Mum, that we were Scottish and British and the Scots were warriors and never surrendered, and neither did the British.
So we would march back in to the school, heads held high, stiff upper lip little soldiers and we won them over, usually always.
Or we got beaten the crap out of.
George and David copped it a fair bit and Jackie would step in and wait for the bullies and then we would all set on them. Jackie sat on one once, a big fat kid and made him cry, we were in shock.
That day we learned about bullies and how they caved in if you stood up to them Ian was always at high school as far as I can remember and that would be right as he's seven years older than me.
Ian was a Dux at Cowra High School and I was a child that won a lot of the Exams and tests as I was such a little nerd. Head always in a book and i could speed read. I read everything and still do,
We were kids of the late 50's and early sixties and it was great time to be a kid. We had radio, then TV, we watched I love Lucy and The Eddy Cantor Show, we listened to The Lone Ranger and we played outside.
I can't recall a pervert until I was 12. Even the mention of one. We swam, joined Squad for swimming, ran, made bonfires, hung out in an old water tank, rolling it and using it as a cubby.
School holidays were spent outdoors, usually with a jam sandwich and water from a neighbours tap. Groceries were brought on a back of a truck in a wooden box and was magic to unpack.
We had an ice man that came once a week with a giant block of ice in a pair of huge claw like nippers, dripping in the heat on the boiling hot paths.
We had a great big Dictionary that was the size of a breadbox and had little steps that indicated the letters. We had encyclopedias which we devoured, a massive bible with colour plates and lots of other religious books.
Mum turned atheist after Jamie died and we no longer went to Sunday School, Jackie and I with our matching outfits, our fuzzy wuzzy angora boleros and our pretty dresses with our little hats and white gloves.
When we were in Port Augusta and Dad had the business we had our own maid, an aboriginal lady called Morag and we went to a dressmaker to have our outfits made. Obviously we were a lot better off, financially there.
But Dad was a dreamer and it was always on to places new, sometimes as soon as 3 months, or whenever the bills started getting too big.
And trust me they were not going to get paid. we ended up in Sydney. We towed a green caravan, and somewhere was a moving van coming along behind. I don't know how we all packed in the car. Kids, cat, Mum and Dad and our luggage.
Dad was an expert at packing a car, he took to it like a logistical problem with rulers and paper and pen. Mum was an expert at lunches and food. We always had devon and tomato sauce sandwiches on fresh white bread.
Sliced bread had come into being and was the kind that you left your fingerprints in. We drank warm lemonade until we realised it made us thirstier and played endless games of hang man and sang ditties and did songs "in the round".
We were an endless supply of delight to our parents, a big responsibility, but we had them and we had each other and that was the way it was.
I often longed for a long time friend, but that doesn't happen when you move so much. The first place we went to in Sydney was Lansdowne Caravan Park. A big caravan park near Liverpool. Sydney was a massive city to us country bumpkins. The stores were unbelievable, the clothes, shoes, toys. Mum and Dad bought me the first Cindy doll. I think we were there a while and then we went to Avalon, to a house.
Love Janette
