Things that we had and didnt have in Penrith (2): appliances and gadgets

August 11, 2023 John1 Comment

Life was simpler when I was growing up in Penrith but our parents and other adults did it harder in many ways because many of the things that we possess today were not around and that made life harder for them. I have written about the ancient modes of communication but there are others that I will write about here. On the other hand, we did have products delivered to the home that now necessitate a trip to the shop, like milk and fruit and bread, so I suppose there is a balance.

Washing clothes and dishes

Washing machines did not arrive in Australia until 1950 and they were expensive, meaning that many women, and in those days they were the ones burdened with the chores of washing the family clothes, had to resort to more laborious methods. Most families had a specified washing day, probably more manageable than today because not all that many women had outside jobs.

Typical laundry with copper and sink (State Library of Victoria)

These were the days of the copper – electric or heated by burning wood chips. A copper was a large cauldron of hot to boiling water in which clothes were put to soak, with something like Lux Flakes added to help the cleaning along. The water needed to be continually stirred by the washer person, usually with a large wooden pole called a Dolley. It was hard work. Sometimes, with white clothes, a knob or two of Reckitts Blue was added to help the whitening process. Reckitts Blue was also used as a salve for insect bites and other minor hurts but, apart from giving you a blue tinge, I don’t know if it had any true medical qualities. I am also reliably informed that it was used as a dyeing agent on heads of greying hair.

The size of the copper varied, depending upon the washing needs. When I lived above my father’s shop, the Nepean Cafe, we had a really big copper because it had to serve the laundry needs of both the family and the business.

If colours in the clothes being washed were likely to run, they had to be washed separately, usually by rubbing against a washing board. Water and Sunlight soap were the washing tools along with plenty of elbow grease.

After immersion for the appropriate time, they were taken out of the copper and rinsed, either under the tap or in a bucket of clean water that had to be continually changed. Once this was done, the clothes had to be wrung out, either by hand – hard work – or with the aid of a wringer or mangle, a device that squeezed the item of clothing between two rollers. These were turned by hand until electric wringers became available.

In the days before Hills Hoist, the drying apparatus was a clothesline, a piece of rope or wire strung tightly between two endpoints – a wall a fence, a tree. To prevent the line from sagging and trailing clothes onto the ground, a wooden stick or pole, sometimes two if the line was long, was used to prop the line up. It was a good idea to wash the line before hanging clothes on it to stop the dirt from getting on the clothes. Wooden pegs were the go. Peddlars would often come by houses selling clothesline props.

Another use for clotheslines was in the cleaning of rugs. The rug was stretched out on the line and thrashed with a carpet beater or a broom to get out the accumulated dust and dirt. Mr Miller, who lived next door to us when we lived in High Street, also made good use of the clothesline. He would hang blankets on their clothesline and practice his golf shots by driving golf balls into the blanket.

As far as dishwashing was concerned, it was a hands-on job. A common feature in homes was the old Dux Heater in place over the kitchen sink.

I don’t know when electric dishwashers became a staple in Australian households, but I never had one in any home I lived in until 1978.

Stoves

Cooking was done on electric stoves, gas stoves or wood-fired stoves. I don’t know the exact timing of the advent of different stoves into the home because, until 1953, I lived above my father’s business, the Nepean Cafe, and we had a huge wood-fired stove downstairs on which our meals were cooked. When we moved into our Evan Steet house, we had an electric one.

My Aunty Alma lived in Castlereagh Street and she had a wood stove for many years and that is my limited experience of them. Her stove was on most of the day in the cooler months because it also provided good warmth. I do remember that on hot Penrith days, the temperature in her kitchen would approximate that of Venus. The sensible thing of course would have been to prepare salads and other cold collations but working men expected their hot meals and Sunday roasts were the custom. So there’s that.

Kooka stove on display in Powerhouse Museum

Electric stoves were fairly basic, as I remember. An oven, two or three rings and that was about it. Popular brands included the Kooka. almost always in a nauseating green hue, and Hotpoint. Still, they were a big step up from the fuel stove and kept the temperature in the kitchen down, which was good because nobody had air conditioners. Cooling was either leaving the doors and windows open in the hope of getting a breeze or by way of rudimentary electric fans. People had no fear of leaving their doors open because there was little risk of thieves or home invaders.

Of course, leaving doors and windows open was a welcome invitation for flies and mozzies, and the Penrith blowfly was a gross creature. Again, it was the 1950s before the first aerosol fly sprays came to Australia. Before that, we used flypaper – ghastly staff that attracted flies to its sticky surface, fly swatters and fly sprayers. The fly sprayer was a pump action device in which you poured some chemical like Mortein and sprayed the room by working the pump back and forth.

Heating and cooling

The multiple modern ways of heating a home were not then available. Schools and other institutions had coke burners, close to toxic if the windows were closed. Some people still had open fires – a lovely but very inefficient pollutive method of heating – and there were electric radiators, mostly of the bar type, oil-burning boilers (not common), and gas heaters if you had gas. If the house still had a fuel stove, you could always keep the stove going and hope that the heat went through the whole house. It often did because houses were a lot smaller then.

And there were the ever-popular and homicidal kerosene heaters (paraffin burners), such as the Fyreside. These eaters consisted of a console that contained a fuel tank and a burning element, fired by a wick. The flame, when lit, bounced heat onto a metal screen which then radiated the heat outwards. They weren’t all that efficient and you had to stay reasonably close to them to get any warmth. This meant that, unless a house had multiple heaters, it was often moved from room to room, raising the possibility of it overturning or being positioned to throw flame upon a flammable surface. They gave out unpleasant noxious fumes and you really needed to use them in a ventilated space to both lessen the smell and avoid asphyxiation. People would sometimes hang washed clothes near them to aid the drying process and this presented other dangers.

Such potential dangers meant that you had to be careful and there were frequent accidents, fires and deaths caused by lack of care. For example, a newspaper recorded two deaths on 6 September 1954 arising from the use of kerosene heaters. A man tripped over his heater in his shop and it caused a fire in which he was trapped and a woman in Kempsey died when her heater exploded and showered her with burning fuel.

I do wax on about how great it was to be a kid back then but there are many things now that make life more pleasant.

Ironing

I don’t remember when electric irons came in. I recall that we always had one but others may have different experiences. Clothes had to be ironed because drip-dry clothes were infrequently sold. At one stage, my mother bought a gadget known, I think, as a clothes press. It had a levered lid on top of an ironing board surface and you would put the garment (or garments depending upon their size) on the board part and close the lid. It gave off a loud steam noise and some steam and you then opened the lid and the clothes were pressed. Magic. It didn’t work all that well and after a few uses it was put away and never seen again.

Mowers

The standard mower was the old push mower. The Victa mower came out in, I think, 1953 and other models followed the Victa. They were too expensive at first for most families but gradually, as their prices came down and real wage growth took off, they became standard equipment. I never knew anyone with a ride-on mower in the time I lived in Penrith.

Other things that were not around

1 – The huge range of kitchen gadgets that we have now. There was the toaster, the jug and, if you were lucky, the Sunbeam Mixmaster.

2 – Diverse home entertainment devices. We had the wireless, the TV, increasingly from the late 1950s, and good conversation, which in our household, most likely ended up in arguments.

The Nepean Cafe (part 1)

June 28, 2023June 29, 2023 John10 Comments

Cafe’s back then

My father owned and ran the Nepean Café at 391 High Street when I was a child. It was not a café in the sense of cafes as we know them today: places primarily open for breakfasts and sometimes for lunches that serve what many see as modern café food and which tend to be places for friends and families to meet and talk.

The Nepean Café would also not fit into the category of eating places that we recognise today as restaurants with menus that offer three courses, often of dishes that would not have been recognised in Australia in earlier days and where alcohol is taken, either offered by the restaurant or brought in by the customers. No, my father’s café was of a kind that has now disappeared from this country (with just a couple of survivors like the Niagara Café in Gundagai. They were known as Greek cafes and they abounded in both the city and in most country towns. They were called Greek cafes not because they served Greek food – they generally didn’t- but because their owners were Greek who had migrated to Australia.

Not the Nepean Cafe but a typical; Greek cafe in Australia in the 1950s

My father did not come from Greece but from the Greek-speaking part of Cyprus but he was proudly Australian in his ways and in the manner in which he and my mother, who was Australian-born, raised their children. He battled prejudice in his early days in Penrith and became, in addition to his business and providing for his family, a tireless worker for the community and in civic affairs, becoming Deputy Mayor, Chairman of the Board of Nepean Hospital for over 20 years, and taking part in other sporting and community organisations. He was, along with Frank Miller (Millers Menswear, the shop next door to ours) and, I think, Dave Fitzgerald, one of the original three trustees of the Penrith Leagues Club in Station Street in the days before it became the mammoth that we know now as the Panthers.

Unfortunately, I have no photos of the Nepean Café, at least from the front, and have been unable to track any down. If any reader has one, I would dearly love a copy. I do however remember it as if it were yesterday.

My father, Jack Carvan: proprietor of the Nepean Cafe

Physical layout

The café was directly opposite the Nepean Theatre and was one of two identical buildings built and owned by a Mr Brell. I don’t think he was a Penrith man, more of an absentee landlord I suppose. The other shop, at 393 High Street, was Millers Menswear, owned and run by Frank Miller, a well-known sportsman and contributor to community life in Penrith. Both our family, at least until I was 12, and the Miller family lived in apartments above our respective shops. From reading an account of High Street in the 1920s by Clyde Mitchell, the site had previously been occupied by a wooden building that had at times been a dressmaker’s shop (owned successively by a Mrs Stafford and a Mrs Hood), a fruit and pie shop (a Mr Wacka Clark) and a shop that sold gramophones and records.

As you entered the café from the street, there were two glass windows on either side of the tiled entrance. Along the right-hand side were a glass showcase and a long wooden and laminated counter. On the rear wall was a huge glass mirror and spaces above the mirror allowed for advertising signs put up by representatives of the various suppliers of confectionery, cigarettes and other products that we sold.

The showcase featured chocolates, lollies and other confectionery and the long counter comprised the milk bar side of things with milkshake machines and shelves of glassware, taps for making sodas and various inbuilt receptacles for storage of bulk milk, ice cream and the ever-popular fruit drinks that Dad used to make up from concentrated orange, lemon, passionfruit and pineapple essence and added water. I believe an unhealthy amount of sugar went into the drinks too.

The eating area consisted of eight cubicles along the left-hand wall, seating four (or five if you dragged a chair across) and five stand-alone tables seating up to six diners. There were no stools at the counter. At the back of the café, a door led out to the kitchen allowing the waitresses (I don’t remember any male waiters) to pass from the dining area into the kitchen and vice versa. The waitresses were very accomplished and I was always amazed how they could carry four large plates at once, with one plate in each hand and two others wedged in between the forearms and the chest.

Condiments were on each table, nothing exotic – just salt, pepper and strangely Worcestershire Sauce which seemed to be a favourite to add to steak. Sugar bowls were also on the tables.

The milk bar and Interval at the pictures

The café would open at about 9 o’clock in the morning and would close sometime after Interval (more formally called but never used as Intermission) at the Nepean Theatre which was directly opposite. Interval was a big thing at the pictures and was a big thing in the Café. The theatre would generally show a main feature which came on after Interval and a minor feature, cartoons and a newsreel that would be shown before Interval. I recollect that the show began at 7.30 pm and Interval was generally in the 9 pm range. There was also a session on Saturday afternoon mainly for the kids and on selected afternoons during school holidays. Nothing on Sundays.

Cinema-goers would use the 20-minute interval to attend to the needs of nature; have a smoke (most men and plenty of women were smokers) and buy refreshments – soft drinks, milkshakes, ice creams, snacks and confectionery. They were all available from us or the mixed business next door (which Dad eventually bought and ran) and within the cinema itself. On Wednesday and Saturday nights, the shop would be full of customers attending to their sugar needs and it did really good business. Some customers would duck out of the picture show a few minutes before Interval to avoid the crowd.

The Nepean Theatre or, as we called it the Picture show, (Cinema Treasures). The Nepean Cafe was directly opposite.

Sometimes there were 10 or 12 of us behind the counter to cater for the demand – lots of customers and only a limited time for them to get something. The whole family would be pressed into service, Dad, Mum and me and my younger brother, together with a couple of employees and whatever friends Dad could conscript into helping out – he had a regular crowd of cronies who would come in well before Interval and have a coffee and a chat with him.

At other times, the milk bar side of the business was consistently busy. The sale of cigarettes and other tobacco products was a big part of the business as were Bex and Vincent’s APC powders, a mixture of aspirin, phenacetin and caffeine.They were later proved to be harmful if taken habitually which many did as they were also addictive. Another one of the things we never realised were dangerous at the time.

The milk bar, at Intervals, and during the day, sold milkshakes, fruit juices, and confectionery and a limited range of soft drinks. Soft drinks were neither as popular or as varied as they are today; the age of Coca-Cola and its cousins had not yet arrived and most people preferred milkshakes or the made-up fruit juices. I know that at one stage, we use to sell sodas because the taps were still on the long counter but they must have been discontinued because I have no memory of them being sold.

We used to sell ice cream in three sizes – a single cone was threepence, a double cone was sixpence, and you could get a smaller single serve for a penny a pop. At Intervals, chocolate-coated ice creams were the go. I used to love, as a kid, sitting at a counter in the big back kitchen, preparing these treats by dipping ice cream cones – single or double – into a bowl of melted chocolate.

Also popular were what were called Penny Lollies because they cost a penny a pop. The best sellers were sherbet suckers, gum drops, rainbow balls which as they were sucked melted into different colours, liquorice sticks and the always foul-looking and foul-tasting musk sticks. Threepence and sixpence bought you a mixed bag of lollies which we pre-prepared and were stacked under the counter. They represented good value but it was a bit of a lottery as to what was in the bag.

Chewing gum was also popular. It came originally in some sugary enamel capsule form in various flavours – Juicy Fruit, Spearmint and PK (whatever that stood for) and later in stick form, presumably in a meaningless gesture to those who advocated less sugar for kids. Unlike our American counterparts, bubble gum, when introduced, was never as popular.

Part 2 coming

That is surely enough for one post but I have more of the story to tell. So, there will be a Part 2 on the Nepean Cafe.

The dangerous things we did

May 29, 2023 John1 Comment

I have written about some of these activities before but it is worth remembering how many things we did as kids that were either inherently dangerous or that are considered dangerous now but were less so then because of different conditions or because none of us knew any better.

Bikes

Most of us had bikes and we would ride distances that kids today would probably seek motorised transport to do. Doubling on bikes was common – the passenger would perch on a carrier rack if the bike had one, or ride on the bar between the rider and the handlebars, or even on the seat with the rider pedalling in a standing position. Three on a bike was not uncommon. And if you had back pedal brakes, it was good fun to slam them on suddenly and do a wheelie, even more dramatic if you were on a dirt road.

Hanging onto the back of a car or a lorry to assist the ride was also frequent and borderline insanity.

Safety helmets? Never heard of them.

All this sounds stupid and dangerous and it probably was but there were nowhere as many cars on the road in those less affluent times and I suspect this fact alone saved many injuries and even lives.

Cars

Cars were inherently less safe then but again fewer cars on the roads. Most of us either did silly things without much opposition from our parents. Riding on the running boards while the car was moving, sitting on the bonnet while the car was moving, and mucking about in the back seat when we were on a trip (no seat belts available or required). Cars were frequently packed with more passengers than good sense would consider safe and some cars, like one or two we had, even had what was called a rumble or dicky seat – an upholstered exterior seat which folded into the back of the car. Insane! Had our parents never heard of a rear-end collision?

And if the kid was small enough, having a sleep on the back shelf of the car was fairly common.

Storm water drains

Playing in the various stormwater drains was good fun, especially during or after rain. Goodness knows what diseases abounded in these drains, let alone the risk of drowning through sudden onrushes of water.

Most of the drains were open, rather than covered so there was always the risk, too, of falling in, if you were running across a paddock or yard that contained a drain.

Cracker night

I have written before about cracker night. Every year some kid got injured, sometimes seriously, by handling fireworks or standing too close when they were performing their magic. Insane practices included:

Trying to see who could hold a lit bunger the longest before it went off;
Putting skyrockets in something like a metal watering can and firing it at other bonfire celebrants;
Throwing jumping jacks at other kids
Failing to keep your eye on a younger sibling holding a lit sparkler
Storing the fireworks reserve too close to where fireworks were going off.

As a result of annual injuries to kids and others, fireworks have been banned for private use in some States, including New South Wales.

Lethal weapons

All the boys had catapults or slingshots as they were sometimes called. Even if we didn’t use stones as projectiles, the theoretically safer rolled-tight wad of paper would have been enough to put out somebody’s eye or wreak a painful blow.

Then there were air rifles or B-B guns that a lot of us had, loaded with leaden slugs. Or you could make do with a pea shooter; you would find something that was shaped like a blowpipe, put a dried pea in it, and blow hard to turn the pea into a projectile.

Other nut-case activities

Playing in things that you shouldn’t be playing in – like old fridges and cupboards
Drinking direct from the hose which may or may not have had poisonous lead or brass nozzles
Putting a sheet of plastic film over your face and breathing in to make a funny face
Playing games on the road, just moving slightly when a car came along.

And all that is not counting the things our parents did to us. Physical punishment, smoking in confined spaces and while pregnant, never bothering about sunscreen, and giving us patent medicines containing all sorts of harmful substances like mercury. Of course, having regard to the state of knowledge, they didn’t know that these things were dangerous, at least by modern standards.

Child molesters

I don’t know if child molestation and kiddy fiddlers are a modern phenomenon. I suspect not and that there were some around when we were young, but we did walk to school on our own, go to places unsupervised, and wander around the town on our own, all things that we would be reluctant to allow our children and grandchildren to do today.

And we, and our parents, trusted other adults. I cannot recollect anyone I knew being the subject of predatory behaviour. Maybe, we were just lucky, or maybe, if it happened it was hidden or not talked about. I don’t know.

Going to the beach

February 14, 2023 John4 Comments

Introduction

It’s a long time since I have posted on this site, for various reasons. First, there was the Covid year, and then I had other projects. Hopefully, I can get back into the swing of this and finish this journey to the past that I have embarked upon.

Go east or south for the surf

We didn’t have a beach in Penrith. We only had the river but there was an area of patchy sand there you could pretend was a beach. It was known as Little Manly but it was a long way from the real thing, literally and figuratively. And of course, nobody had a swimming pool in their backyard.

So, if we wanted the beach we had to travel. And your choice of beach was going into the city or down the South Coast to the Wollongong beaches.

For those whose families had cars, it was a long drive in whichever direction you took and the only air conditioning in cars back then came from opening the window to the cold or the hot air depending on the day. If you didn’t have a car, then your only travel alternative to Sydney beaches was the train and then a bus or sometimes two, although if you were going to Manly you caught a ferry. The good thing about going to Manly instead of the more famous Eastern suburbs beaches was the Manly Fun Pier which was a truncated version of Luna Park. Although smaller, it had the usual fun park attractions – dodgems, ghost rain, Ferris wheel – a good way to end your day at the beach.

Whatever mode of transport, you were hot going to the beach and hot coming home, so it often seemed like not worth the effort.

Trains were not comfortable in those days. They were steam trains so if you opened the small apertures that passed as windows, you left yourself exposed to hot puffs of carbon-filled smoke that were not friendly to clothes. There was no air conditioning and on busy days carriages became crowded and oppressive with people standing or sitting in corridors, making egress from the train at your stop or visits to the tiny and often fetid toilets difficult. Still, for kids venturing into the big smoke for a day, it was an exciting journey.

The joys of car sickness

Car travel too had its challenges. The construction of cars was aimed more at moving them from one place to another rather than on passenger comfort. The less-than-efficient shock absorbers and awkward steering, coupled with rudimentary road surfaces and poor camber design led to a lot of us getting car sick on other than short journeys.

Not all of us suffered from car sickness but you could bet that in any family there would be at least one sufferer on any trip, making the inclusion of a sickness receptacle mandatory in cars. We had an old Smiths Chips container as a vomit tin and I have to say that the sight of a packet of Smiths Chips even today brings back memories of car journeys as a child.

My father had several cars during my childhood. The two that I remember best were a Reo, whatever that was, and a Ford Pilot, both of which were guaranteed to make one of us sick on the journey..

Surfoplanes and sun tan spray

My memory of those Sydney beaches is the smell of the suntan lotion that you could get sprayed on by the lifesavers. The lotion was not as chemically advanced as those you get today with their various depths of protection. Rather they were more like a cooking oil that ensured that you got sunburnt more efficiently. The dangers of excess sun exposure were not well known and it was more important to become a sun-bronzed Aussie with the long-term consequence of skin cancers that are so prevalent in older Australians today. And of course, nobody needed a hat or those clothes that can now shield you from the sun.

There were some weird remedies around then for treating sunburn such as rubbing raw tomato into the burned areas and, particularly insane, having a boiling hot shower. How crazy was that?

The other thing I remember most about the Sydney beaches was the surfo-planes, long rubber floats that you could hire at an hourly rate. Nobody owned their own boogie boards.

Wollongong beaches

The beaches in the Illawarra area were actually closer than the Sydney beaches in travel time for those who had cars – just over an hour away. Turn right at Parker Street, drive through Luddenham and Bringelly, then to Narellan, past the monastery where they held the Stations of the Cross every Easter with thousands in attendance, on to Appin where you tried to be the first in your family to say ‘Nothing ever appens at Appin’, then down Bulli Pass. Turn left at the bottom of the Pass for Thirroul and Austinmer, or right for Bulli Beach. Travelling back at night over Fisher’s Ghost Creek near Campbelltown always involved a contest as to who could tell the best ghost stories.

Our preference was for Austinmer where Dad eventually bought a weekender on the cliff overlooking the beach and which my mother turned into her permanent home after Dad died. Austinmer was popular with many Penrith residents and on weekends and school holidays you would always be bumping into other kids from home.

After my parents died, I inherited the old house and did it up and it became my permanent home for many years, where my children and grandchildren could enjoy the same delights that I did as a kid from Penrith going to the beach – the rocks, the sea pools, the beautiful beach lined with pine trees and the sensation of the Pacific Ocean, a refuge from Penrith on a boiling hot day.

And, if you couldn’t make it to a beach, there was always the river.

Penrith characters – Father Fitz

March 28, 2021 JohnLeave a comment

John Fitzpatrick was the Catholic Priest at St Nicholas of Myra in High Street from 1948 to 1964. He was well loved by his parishioners and a man respected in the wider Penrith community amongst people of all religions. This was no mean achievement as there was a sectarian divide in those days, not only in Penrith but country-wide, certainly more than there is now. It was mixed up with class – Catholics generally were more likely to be in the lower socio-economic strata – and issues such as government funding of religious schools, that are no longer burning issues.

A son of Ireland

Father Fitz as everyone knew him, was born in Ireland and migrated to Australian to begin his mission. His first posting was as a curate in Leichardt and when he came to Penrith in 1948 as parish priest he had previously served at Burragorang. Incidentally the Penrith parish is one of the oldest Catholic parishes in Australia.

While serving in Penrith, Father Fitz was the moving force behind the construction of the Catholic primary school which opened in Tindale Street in 1954, being heavily involved in fund raising, seeking government grants and securing banking finance to complete the work. This new school improved the educational opportunities for those who sought a religious context for the education of their children. Previously, Catholic education was conducted at St Josephs Convent in High Street.

The politico-religious schism

It was Father Fitz’s misfortune but his parish’s good luck to be in charge of the parish at the time of the great split in the 50s in the Australian Labor Party of which at that time many Catholics were members. Members of the ALP, predominantly Catholics, had split from Labor to form a new political party, others remained. The conflict between Catholic Labor members was exacerbated by conflict within the church hierarchy itself; some priests and bishops advocated for the new party while others advised their parishioners to remain with the old. The bitterness of the political and religious schism caused rifts between friends and even within families.

Father Fitz’s gentle ways and moderating approach, and his appeals to his flock to maintain their principles while remaining tolerant of the views of others helped to stem the bitter disputes and even physical fights that took place in other communities where parish priests took more aggressive stances.

Popularity

Father Fitz’s standing and popularity in the community was seen at the large function held in February 1955 to farewell him on a nostalgic return holiday to Ireland. The function was attended not only by parishioners but by community leaders of every political and religious persuasion. Our mayor, Bill Chapman, described Father as a perfect gentleman and commended him for what he had done for the town.

Although not myself Catholic, I knew Father Fitz well because he and my father were great friends. Every morning, except Sundays or when he was on church business, Father would come down to my father’s shop and they would drink coffee, talk and laugh. He was always happy and his rosy cheeks shone and he somehow reminded me of Bing Crosby who played a priest in a film called Going My Way which was around at the time. He did not look like the crooner and to my knowledge did not sing like him but their manner and demeanour and the Irish lilt were similar, although Father’s was genuine rather than made up.

When Father Fitzpatrick died from cancer in 1964, the town mourned.

Things we had and didn’t have in Penrith (3): maladies and vaccines

January 28, 2021 JohnLeave a comment

Diseases and the vaccines that prevent them are a topical subject and this causes me to cast my mind back to what was happening when I was growing up in Penrith. I must confess I don’t know if we were better off then or now.

To start with, there were a lot more diseases that could cause death or severe illness and I have mentioned them briefly in past posts. There were diseases that are still around but controlled by mass vaccination, and there are diseases that just seem to have disappeared.

Diseases that have faded away

There are several medical ailments that were a big threat to us when we were kids but rarely rate a mention today. There was rheumatic fever, which started with a sore throat and eventually affected other organs, leaving many of those who survived with life long heart weaknesses; scarlet fever, another malady that started in the throat and caused bad rashes and organ damage; something called pink disease which apparently came about because of too much mercury in teething powders given to babies; nephritis, a disease of the kidneys which I contracted and put me in hospital for five months. And others.

There was also an ailment called quinsy, another throat thing, which really hurt, and there was rickets, which we now know as being caused by malnutrition or vitamin D deficiency. I am not sure how kids in that era were deficient in vitamin D because it primarily comes from sunshine and we were outside a lot more than kids of today. And the foods containing vitamin D – eggs, red meat, cereals – were in most diets. Maybe, we didn’t eat enough fish.

What caused these diseases to be prevalent and why have they all but disappeared? Perhaps it was a combination of factors – sanitary conditions not being as good as they are today like outside toilets and iceboxes instead of fridges; more relaxed government health regulations; build-up of immunity over the generations; changes in diets. And perhaps, with the advent of antibiotics, early treatment of things like septic throat, prevented things from getting worse.

Diseases that are still around

Just about every child that I knew contracted either measles, mumps or whooping cough or all of them at one stage of their childhood. There were no vaccines but we got sick, missed some school and recovered. Generally, if one kid in the family got the disease, so did all the others, and their friends who failed to get away before the infection jumped to them.

More serious was tuberculosis (TB), a life-threatening disease and which was, in many cases, untreatable and could result in long stays in sanatoriums. The authorities were so concerned about TB that they would set up mobile x-ray stations in town to facilitate checkups and would send them to schools annuallyfor compulsory testing of students.

Diptheria was another killer and so was tetanus, always a risk in outdoor activities. Climbing through a barb wire fence could be risky. And of course, there was polio, which is the subject of a previous post.

Schoolchildren lining up for a jab (State Library of Queensland)

Anyhow, these ailments are mainly preventable today with vaccines and, even if contracted are treatable with antibiotics. On the subject of antibiotics, they were generally not available until the late 1940s but sulphur drugs held the fort until penicillin and its offshoots came along.

Diet and exercise

I suppose that our diet then was both good and bad. On the good side, we ate lots of protein and the food was mainly fresh. Processed foods were rare – there was no Macdonalds, KFC, Pizza Hut or the like, although we might occasionally have the treat of chips from the fish and chips shop, or a hamburger. However meat pies, then as now, were always popular.

On the other hand, we ate a lot of starchy foods, and although meals always featured vegetables, any goodness in them disappeared because they were literally boiled to death. Frozen foods were sparse but tinned foodstuffs were available.

Our teeth were awful because the water was not fluorised and visits to the dentist were a necessity. The government organised dentists to visit schools to provide dental care for children whose parents could not afford regular visits.

All set for an afternoon’s play in the yard: snappy dressers too, weren’t we?

We definitely had more exercise and time outside in the sun and fresh air than kids do today. It is not just because they have more indoor entertainment options than we had but there are just more indoor activities today, and that’s a good thing. Apart from the wireless, and later television (which anyhow in its early days did not really get going until late afternoon), the only real alternative for children to get together after school, and indeed before it, and on weekends, was to play outside. I think that we can all agree that that lifestyle was healthier.

Today’s maladies

There are conditions and syndromes around today that I do not remember as being around as much back then. First, there is asthma which seems a lot more prevalent. Sure, some kids had respiratory problems but not nearly as high a proportion as today. Perhaps it was because Penrith was semi-rural with little industry and surface and air pollution, perhaps it was because of more time spent outside – I do not know.

Then there are things like autism, ADHD and the like. Definitely, some children had difficulties keeping their attention span for long periods but they were never diagnosed as having any sort of illness or syndrome. The system shuffled them off into lower learning classes and never really attended to their difficulties, leaving them with life long learning gaps.

It was the same, I would imagine, with children who had dyslexia and other similar types of learning difficulties. They received little understanding and certainly no extra help. The attitude in the schools was treat them as dumb, put them in classes that served mainly to keep them off the street until they turned 14 or so, and then let them loose without any assistance. We are fortunate to now live in more enlightened times.

Autism is a difficult one. I do not recollect any child of my acquaintance, and I knew most of the kids in Penrith, who showed those signs of behaviour that today we recognise as the autism spectrum. Was this because autism is a recent development, or were children who had this difficulty, just kept out of sight?

So, as I wrote at the start of this post, in some ways we were better off back then, in other ways we were not. I do consider myself fortunate in that nobody in my family, and none of my childhood friends, died of a childhood disease. Many got sick, some severely, but we all made it.

Christmas in Penrith

December 17, 2020 JohnLeave a comment

As Christmas 2020 approaches, my mind wanders back to what Christmas was like in Penrith in the forties and fifties, and one word comes to mind – Hot!

The heat

My memory, not just of Christmas time but of summer days generally, is day after day of temperatures over or close to 100 degrees Fahrenheit (37.7 on the Celsius scale), exacerbated by hot winds; no relief even at night; and with the tar melting on the roads causing the possible loss of a shoe as you crossed over. You wouldn’t be game to cross the road in bare feet.

I remember too almost daily storms that seemed to start just as one was walking home from school.

I really doubt that it was any hotter then than it has been in the last few years but it certainly felt hotter, one possible reason being the almost total absence of air conditioning. Houses and shops were not air-conditioned and at best had fans that really only circulated the already hot air. As for cars, air conditioning consisted of opening windows and letting the wind roar between them. Again, only hot air, but it at least gave the impression of cooling things down.

If you were walking down the street at night, you would frequently pass houses with mum and dad sitting outside on the front step or porch desperate to get the slightest breeze while the kids played under the sprinkler.

Nobody had swimming pools in their homes. the public pool had not yet opened, and the only body of water to throw the body into for some cooling relief was the river.

The heat was aggravated, at least until the fifties, by the use of fuel stoves. Some households had still not made the move to electric ranges and had retained the old fuel stoves, guaranteed to raise the temperature in the house by a good ten or fifteen degrees.

Bushfire haze over Emu Plains c 1950 (Penrith City Library collection)

If there were bushfires around, that only made matters worse. There were bad bushfires in the area in 1944-45, 1951-52, and 1957-58, and the curtain of smoke hanging over the area trapped the heat, making life all the more uncomfortable.

There was a myth at Penrith High School that if the temperature reached 105 degrees, school would close down for the day and students could go home. In my time there, the temperature often reached that level but I do not recollect that there was ever a go home release. Nothing like sitting in a stinking hot, uncooled classroom, working on a Latin grammar or hearing about the glories of the British Empire.

Before Christmas Day

The approach of Christmas not only meant presents and festivities coming up; it also meant that school was over until the end of January and we could relax from the hard grind of daily attendance, good behaviour on pain of punishment, and no homework. As we used to recite:

No more pencils, no more books

No more teachers’ dirty looks

Santa in the park (Penrith City Library collection)

Another sign that Christmas was on its way was the arrival of Santa Claus in Memory Park. For some reason, this died out in the fifties and the only Santa Claus was, to my recollection, at Fletchers. Clubs and other organisations generally had a Santa impersonator at their Christmas functions for the children of members.

Father Christmas at Grace Bros (State Library)

One of the big things to do in the days before Christmas was to go to Sydney and see one or more of the Christmas displays put up by the big department stores. They not only dressed their windows in appropriate Yuletiude fashion, and provided a Santa Claus (also equally known as Father Christmas by our generation) for the younger and more credulous children, they set aside a big section on one of their floors for Christmas scenes.

Christmas display at Anthony Hordern’s (State Library)

Anthony Hordern’s and Grace Bros were the best. The latter had a series of caves in each of which there was some sort of Christmas scene. As you came out, there was a stall that handed out fairy floss wrapped around a stick of sugar cane.

This was often combined with a visit to a Christmas Pantomine, a fading theatrical tradition. We usually went to the one at the Tivoli Theatre.

The core of Pantomine was a musical play with a story based usually around a fairy tale which provided farce, slapstick and lots of laughs. There was always one particularly evil character at whose approach kids could boo and hiss. Another main character was the Pantomine Dame, generally a male actor dressed as a woman, who provided most of the farcical element.

There was always at least a couple of scenes where the evil character would sneak up upon some unsuspecting victim and this enabled the kids in the audience to scream out a warning. Sounds a bit tame but, hey, we didn’t have Superheroes movies playing continually on Netflix to amuse us.

Many of the churches, clubs and service associations in Penrith also had an annual Christmas tree with presents for the children of members put around the tree. Church Sunday Schools had their best and most regular attendance in the weeks prior to Christmas.

We did have Christmas trees, but the expensive decorations and the modern convention of energy blowing displays of Christmas lights around houses was non-existent.

Christmas presents and other things

The first thing that we did as kids on Christmas Day was to open our presents. Even though the Santa Claus myth died at an early age (but probably not as early as it does with today’s more with-it kids), the Christmas swag of presents was still there ready in the morning. We never had the traditional Christmas stockings but had pillow slips instead. I don’t know if this was a common occurrence.

The range of Christmas presents varied with the age of the child and the income of the parents.

Dolls and the things that go with them would certainly have been popular for girls but, as there were only boys in my family, I don’t know what else girls would have been given.

For younger boys, anything associated with Cowboys and Indians -outfits, cap guns, Indian headdresses -, carts and other things on wheels and model cars – Matchbox and Dinky were popular brands. Sports equipment whether serious – cricket bats, footballs etc – or less so -shuttlecock sets, indoor bowling sets – would also have been frequent presents. Everybody wanted a Hornby electric train set but they were expensive. If you were really lucky, you got a bike.

Meccano, the child construction toolset, was ubiquitous and add ons to the standard set were available. Board games too were popular – Monopoly and Cluedo for the older children, Snakes and Ladders, Ludo and Chinese Checkers for the younger ones.

All told, we had a lot of fun with not so much, but it is safe to say that today’s children would probably consider our loot of presents not all that great. The toys, however, would almost certainly have had longer lives – they were more durable, there was a lot less plastic construction, and, as we never had the range and variety that there is today, we would have looked after them better, passing them down at the appropriate time to our younger siblings.

Christmas Lunch (Dinner)

Firstly, we, or most of us, had different terms for the three daily meals. Breakfast was always breakfast, today’s lunch was often called dinner, and today’s dinner referred to as tea. Many people of my generation still favour these terms.

Generally, the preparation of the Christmas meal was done by the mother in the family, helped sometimes by any daughters of sufficient age. Men did not do that sort of thing then. The women had a hard time of it. On a really hot day, the temperature in the kitchen would approximate the summer temperature on Mercury.

The standard Christmas Lunch was always a hot one and was inevitably a baked dinner. Few people engaged in a cold festive meal and nobody had the sumptuous seafood repasts that we enjoy today – prawns, lobster, oysters, bugs, crabs. For a start, fresh seafood outlets were few and far between in country towns, bottled oysters really being the only ones available.

The most common baked meal was lamb, followed by beef and occasionally pork. Some people had chicken and for many that was one of the rare times during the year that they had poultry. Chicken was expensive as battery farming had not yet become popular in Australia. Nobody had turkey. Though there was the occasional baked ham, ham was more likely to pop up in the form of slices bought from the ham and beef shop in High Street.

Many families enjoyed the traditional Christmas pudding boiled in a cloth weeks before Christmas Day and allowed to hang out to dry in preparation for the big day, hopefully escaping from the mould, the grubs and the flies. Coins were placed in the pudding and the lucky diner, having escaped either swallowing a coin or losing a filling, got to keep the coin. The pre-decimal coinage – threepences, sixpences, shillings, florins, even pennies and halfpennies, were ideal for this, but decimal coinage when it came in in 1966 did not work as well. Crackers, as bonbons were more usually known, contained real and useful trinkets, unlike the present-day plastic rubbish.

Christmas in Penrith was great when I was a kid – hot, but great. We had good and happy times and because the gatherings were smaller – it was not as easy for other relatives to travel and assemble in the one home – there were probably fewer family flareups. Although my brothers and I were always happy to engage in a Christmas sibling dispute.

High Street in the 50s (11)- North side: beyond Station Street

November 28, 2020November 28, 2020 John4 Comments

Although there were some traditional type shops once you passed Bamford’s Corner and crossed Station Street heading towards the river, most of the businesses that you encountered were different both in category and size. Because of their nature, many of them required larger sites than were available further up High Street and I assume that the square foot rental was lower as well.

I cannot remember all the businesses here – they changed a lot – nor the exact order that they were in, so this story just highlights some of those that I can remember.

Station Street Corner

There was a garage on the corner- the Penrith Garage – run by people named McLeary, (although an ad in the Nepean Times in 1946 suggests that it was owned by a Mr Smith) and the depot and office for Penrith Taxis were behind this.

Next door, Tony Skipton at various times had different businesses. At one time, he had a cafe further up High Street, a milk bar cum coffee and pastry shop opposite Bussell Brothers, then at various times, in shops down from Station Street, he had a milk bar, the Imperial Cafe, and I think at one time some sort of fabric shop. He then went on to build Skipton’s Arcade.

There was a War Surplus Disposals store around here too. In those days, this type of store sold genuine military disposals rather than the faux-army clothing and equipment and camping goods that they sell today.

Duval Studios and street photographs

The camera man is a Mr De Boer (Penrith City Library collection)

Duval Studios sold photographic supplies but its main function was professional photography. Many photos taken by Duval of events in Penrith have helped preserve the town’s history. It was either owned by, or employed, a man named De Boer.

The Nepean River in flood 1948, taken by Mr De Boer (Penrith City Library collection)

Family photos were a big thing back then as few people owned cameras and those that were around were, by modern standards, not all that good. Street photographers were plentiful too, not so much in Penrith but in the big cities. Martin Place in Sydney was a favourite snapping spot. Professional photographers would snap a photo of people walking down the street and then talk them into ordering a copy.

The photographers generally dressed in a suit and tie so as to appear both respectable and professional and mostly they were. They must surely have taken hundreds of photographs on a normal day in the hope and expectation of selling a few.

My mother, aunt and grandmother. A typical Sydney street photo.

As I understand it, the photographer would take the photo unsolicited and then hand a card or ticket to the potential buyer. The photos would, of course, have to be developed and when they were, you would go to a central kiosk and produce your ticket and would be given a large sheet of photographs and a magnifying glass to find and identify your photo. If you decided to buy, you handed over the money and would receive the finished product in the mail a few days.

There was another tyre place nearby Duval Studios.

George Howell

Mr Howell was a man of many parts. At various times he had been a farm agent and an estate agent, and had run trucks, but he was primarily a seller and repairer of agricultural equipment, catering for the district’s farms and orchards which at that time played a prominent part in Penrith’s industry and employment but which have now mainly been lost to the developers.

Emu Plains from the river – citrus trees in the background

Those of my generation can remember, for example, when Emu Plains was filled with citrus trees – the Hunter family had large orchards. As well as providing revenue for the town, and employment for its people, the orchards were great parking spots for young couples seeking a solitary spot away from prying eyes.

Mr Howell c 1952 (Penrith City Library collection)

Sometime in the late 1950s, Mr Howell suffered some business reverses and the business that he had run for so long was closed. He was, however, a genius at repairing and restoring fruit sorting machines and I would often see him in the garage of his house in Ladbury Avenue, working on some old machine that he had picked up cheaply.

Hungerford’s, the vets

The biggest veterinary practice in Penrith was Hungerfords owned by Mr T G Hungerford. Mr Hungerford, apart from his veterinary skills with small animals, was an expert on stock animals, and was the author of a standard textbook on cattle diseases and treatments.

The Humgerfords were prominent in local religious activities and were behind the formation in Penrith of the Inter-School Christian Fellowship, a group that brought together young religious people, and they often hosted meetings in their home attached to the veterinary practice.

Like most of the businesses in this area, they were subsumed by the construction of the Penrith Plaza.

Hickey’s Tank Works c 1950 (Penrith City Library collection)

Close by was Gregg’s electrical business and Plunkett’s Grage. There was also another produce store run by a man called Charly Dean, Hickey’s Tanks, a timber yard and then Ron Barrett’s house.

The RAAF or Police College?

In this area, there was also a large government installation which I am fairly sure operated as a training centre for New South Wales Police Officers. I am comforted in this belief by the fact that the Sunday Sun published an article in November 1948 stating that 1438 police officers had been trained there since it opened in 1945 and it published the photo reproduced above.

People have told me however that this building was occupied by the Royal Australian Air Force as a barracks. If this is the case, it must have been before it was taken over by the Police Department. Or is there some confusion and there were two separate sites? If any reader can clear this up for me, I would appreciate it.

The saddlery

Mr Tornaros had a saddlery shop down this end of town but whether it was on this side of the street or the other. I cannot remember. The saddlery was owned by Mr Atty Tornaros, who was a migrant and who was also prominent in community affairs. He served on Council for many years and was elected mayor on at least one occasion. This suggests, as I have mentioned before, that although some old-time residents and influential business men were reluctant to accord migrants the same respect as those who were Australian born, prejudice was not widely apparent in the larger community.

Mayor Tornaros (4th from right) and others welcoming the Governor 1949 (Penrith City Library collection)

There may also have been another saddlery in the town owned by a man named Ainsley, an indication that, even though Penrith was moving towards having a suburban character by the late 1950s, there was still a large part of the town that had a rural base.

I always liked the smell of leather in saddlery shops. Same with bootmakers.

Previous High Street post

North side – the Federal to Station Street

Another big day for Penrith: the electrification of the railway line

November 11, 2020 John1 Comment

Penrith had another big day on October 8 1955. Electric trains came to the town.

It may not seem a big deal now but it was back in 1955. We had a good existing railway service – Penrith to Central (limited stops) took about 70 minutes, multi-stop trains took about 15 minutes longer.

The perceived problem was that Penrith was not part of the electric railway system, so our trains were primarily steam trains and they had to terminate at Central with no direct access to other lines or to the inner city train system. So if you worked in the city, you had to get off at Central and change trains to Wynyard or St James or intermediate stops.

In those days too, there were two classes on board the trains. You could travel first class or second class; obviously first class was more expensive but, apart from the fact that you were less likely to miss out on a seat, there seemed little difference between the standard of fittings between first and second. There was perhaps some snob value in riding first class – I don’t know. I was happy enough travelling with the plebs.

Like many people, I was happy with the existing system because I liked steam trains. Sure they were noisy and the soot got onto your clothes and on a hot day it was unwise to open a window because of the dirt and the noise but they were comfortable, fun and historic.

And we had our favourite trains – the Chips and the Heron for commuters, and the ten o’clock Mudgee Mail for those who had to work or study late or, more likely, for those who liked to drink late. The paper train leaving Central in the early hours of the morning was the fate for those who missed the Mail.

The new railway system was supposed to knock ten minutes off the travelling time but, if that did happen, it was not for long as the city rail network got busier and busier with the increase in population during the sixties and the inevitable stops and slowdowns as the trains got closer to the city.

Photos. Some of the photographs in this post are somewhat indistinct. I apologise for that but they come from the Nepean Times archives and have nor reproduced well digitally.

The celebrations committee

So, the community decided to make the official arrival of the first electric train a big deal and a committee, to represent the community, was appointed to plan the festivities. There were big things planned.

The photo above is that of the Electrification Celebration Committee and I recognise some faces. If any reader can identify others, I would be happy to acknowledge them.

Back row:

2nd from left Mr Arthur Street, teacher and local historian
3rd from left – Mr Joe Sheehan

Middle row

2nd from left – Mr Dave Fitzgerald Leagues Club
3rd from left – Mr Mel Roberts?

Front Row

3rd from left Mr Les Mitchell
4th from left Mr Jack Carvan
6th from left Mrs Essie Price
7th from left Mrs Parkes?

I have an idea that the man leaning on the piano was from the Penrith Press and could the man first on the left in the back row be a young Ron Mulock?

The first train – official

The first train was not really the first one, but the first official one, because there had been numerous trial runs. It left Central that day at 9.03, carrying the official party, and arrived at Penrith Station at 10.30 after stopping at St Marys for a few minutes while that suburb had its own celebration. There was an official ribbon-cutting ceremony at St Marys, after which the train went on its way. St Marys had its own celebratory procession later on the day.

My uncle, Harry Sternbeck, was the driver of the train, and Bill Glasscock was the guard. Harry’s wife, my Aunty Alma, the greatest cook of scones that there absolutely ever was, was supposed to be an official guest. Unfortunately, she had had an argument with Harry a couple of nights before the event and kicked the wall in anger, breaking her ankle. There must be a lesson here.

The official party consisted of, amongst others, the Premier, Mr Joe Cahill, the Mayor of Penrith, Bill Chapman, the Railway Commissioner and other dignitaries.

Penrith Railway Station (State Archives)

A passenger with a close connection in history was also a passenger, William Badcock, aged 90. His mother had been a passenger on the first steam train from Sydney to Penrith, a nice coincidence.

Railway Square

In preparation for the big day, local shopkeepers decorated their windows with appropriate themes. There were prizes given out fr the best-dressed windows. The winner was Dorraine, owned by a Mrs Graham, a business I do not recall, and high commendations were given to other businesses including Neales, Fletchers and Millers Men’s Wear.

The area surrounding the station, which is apparently named Railway Square but I have no memory of anyone calling it that when I was a child, was decked with streamers, balloons, bunting, plants and flags.

Bands played the usual kinds of tunes while large crowds waited for the train’s arrival and the official ceremonies.

A dais was set up near the entrance and it was there that the opening ceremony took place. The Premier cut the ribbon with a pair of golden scissors (gold plated, I would imagine, rather than pure gold) and there were speeches by every dignitary who was able to successfully grab the microphone. What happened to the official party after this is not known but presumably they were fed and watered and went back to their respective locations, probably by car. It is hard to imagine them choosing to ride the train again.

The procession

Penrith loved a procession back then and let’s face it there wasn’t all that much around in the way of entertainment. There were bands, and there were floats in various categories entered by local merchants and community organisations.

First prize in the historical section went to Count O’Meagher for his famous 1912 Renault – you couldn’t keep the Count out of a Penrith celebration. For some reason best known to the Count, he had labelled the car as a 1755 model. Was 1912 not old enough for the Count?

Neales won the commercial section with Ken Wood, the Holden dealer, as runner up. The Wood float had a blue Holden atop a Chevrolet truck all surrounded with chains and a sign saying ‘Holden, a link in the chain of Penrith’s Progress’. Corny, I suppose, but that was local advertising back then. And the CWA and the Orchard Hills Primary Producers took out the prizes in the Original category. There was also a Comical section.

After the procession

The floats and bands proceeded to the Showground where members of the public could have a closer look at the floats and other exhibits.

There was a series of events and stalls at the showground for spectators to look at and participate in, including athletics and other sports, and a few more speeches. At night there was a gymkhana with appropriately named events.

High Street too was closed at night between Woodriffe and Station Streets to allow dancing by those who wanted to get their feet moving. There were several bands and people enjoyed themselves.

The changing town

As I said, it doesn’t sound such a big deal now but it was. Penrith had become that much closer to Sydney and more reachable. The town and its suburbs, mostly undeveloped with the exception of St Marys, became attractive to developers and to their customers – young families who worked in areas closer to Sydney but who wanted a place to live that they could afford to buy. The farms and the acreages were subdivided and new houses built. More and more people moved in and this was really the start of Penrith’s change from a semi-rural township to what it has become – just another suburb of Sydney.

Some people see this as a change for the better. Penrith people who grew up when I did probably have a different view but progress has its benefits and its losses. Old Penrith dies but new Penrith lives.

Things we had and didn’t have in Penrith (2): the wireless, television and gadgets galore

October 12, 2020October 12, 2020 John3 Comments

I can start with a long list of things that we didn’t have, either as kids or adults:

The internet and all the entertainment options that go with it – smartphones, tablets, gaming consoles;
The information sources that come with the internet – search engines, smartwatches, fitbits, search engines;
Today’s multiple ways in which to listen to music;
television and the ways in which we can view content – free to air programming, streaming, the already obsolete DVDs and video cassettes.

What we had was the radio (or wireless as it was more commonly called), the picture show, record players, comics, games, and our own resources and imagination.

I will talk about the wireless in this post and look at other activities later.

Our entertainment

Somehow, night time entertainment was not as important to us as it is now. We played outside a lot, often until dark or until our mothers called us in either do our homework or to get ready for dinner. By the time that was all over, we only had to be entertained until we went to bed.

I suspect that our bedtimes were, on the average, earlier than they are for modern kids and probably our homework took longer as well. For example, if one was doing a project, there would be the visit to the library, copying words and pictures from an encyclopedia or other reference book, and then incorporating all this onto a physical page.

It must be much easier now to just Google what you want, cut and paste, and slap it all onto a computer file and then either to print it or deliver it electronically. And of course, with word processing programs, mistakes and revisions can be taken care of in a jiffy, instead of having to erase the problem, or, if that was not possible, to start all over again.

Wireless stations

After play and homework, we had the wireless. It was either a shelf top unit or a console, sometimes with a record player attached. If you were lucky there were two; the small one in the kitchen and the big one in the lounge room. Not many kids had one in their bedroom.

There were eight metropolitan stations, all AM, and the local station 2KA, which few of us listened to. The ABC had two of these stations. Running down the dial the stations were 2FC, 2BL (both owned by the ABC), 2GB, 2UE, 2KY, 2UW, 2CH, AND 2SM. All stations broadcast a mixture of programs but they focussed heavily on entertainment in the way of dramas and comedies (both in serial form and one-offs), quizzes and special programming. News and music were not nearly as prevalent as today.

The serials

There were serials for adults and serials for kids. 2UW, as I remember, had the bulk of adult serials, or at least serials of a type that the programmers imagined, with their minds founded in stereotypes, would appeal to women as they went about the housework because that was the primary task allocated to women in those unenlightened days.

Popular 2UW serials were Courtship and Marriage, Dr Paul, Martins Corner. Portia faces Life, When a Girl Marries, Mary Livingstone MD, Dr Mac (‘aye it’s me, Doctor Mac’)and Mrs Iggs and Mrs ‘Arris. You can see what programmers imagined women to be interested in from the titles. I don’t know whether poor Portia had medical problems or marriage problems, or maybe both.

2GB seemed to have a monopoly on serials for kids which were broadcast mainly in the afternoon and early evening. I particularly remember Superman (of course), Biggles, The Lone Ranger and The Shadow. There was also a classic children’s’ serial called The Serach for the Golden Boomerang, which almost uniquely had an Australian setting. Its theme was Waltz of the Flowers by Tchaikovsky and whenever I hear that piece I am reminded of my childhood.

The ABC also had an Argonauts Club for children, not a serial but a mixed program for younger children.

2UE had the night time serials carefully chosen to appeal to both children and adults. There was Inner Sanctum Mysteries, Dossier on Demetrios, I Hate Crime with Larry Kent and Night Beat (my name’s Randy Stone (‘I work the night beat for the daily’).

My particular favourite was one called Hagen’s Circus about ‘romance, excitement and mystery set against the colourful background of the big top’ (National Film and Radio Archive) with its hero Grant Andrews played by Guy Doleman who went on to have a successful film career.

There were the comedy serials too like Life with Dexter, Ada and Elsie, Mrs ‘Obbs, all on 2GB, and Yes What on 2CH. I would be willing to bet that if we heard these shows today, we would not think them all that funny with the possible exception of Yes What, a show about a school class of kids, presided over by a teacher played by Rex ‘Wacka’ Dawe. The kids – Greenbottle, a garrulous fool, Bottomley a cheeky rascal, a posh boy whose name I do not remember, and Stamford, who was a bit slow – always seemed to get the better of the teacher who gave them frequent canings, probably inspiring the teachers at Penrith High to do the same.

For any reader who remembers these shows and wants to feel nostalgic, I have included some Web links to sample episodes at the end of this post.

Quiz shows

Quiz shows were very popular on the wireless and there was friendly or contrived competition between the two main hosts on rival stations. Jack Davey was a New Zealander with a ready wit and self-destructive social habits that got the constant attention of the daily rags, particularly the Daily Mirror, a sensation filled tabloid that has thankfully passed into history. Bob Dyer was originally a hillbilly guitar strummer who transformed into a successful quiz show host assisted by his ever simpering wife Dolly.

These two personalities over the years swapped radio stations, changed quiz formats, dabbled occasionally in variety shows, and traded friendly banter. The most successful of the quiz shows was Pick a Box.

When television came, both hoists made the jump from radio. Bob was a success, Jack Davey was not.

Amateur hours

Another popular wireless format was the talent quest where amateur performers hopeful of making the big time or just impressing their friends would strut their wares on stage before a live audience. Again there were competing programs on rival stations such as The Amateur Hour and Australia’s Amateur Hour and rival hosts including Terry Dear, Dick Fair and Harry Dearth. These hosts generally spoke with a posh British accent, real or pretended, and were smooth, at times bordering on the unctuous.

As radio does not have visuals, the performers were mainly singers, musicians and the occasionally desperate stand up comic. If you have seen the quality shown on such current programs as The Voice and Australian Idol, you would see little resemblance to these talent quests of the 40s and 50s where the standard was probably inferior to that which you would see at a school musical performance these days.

Winners were determined by popular vote, phoned in by listeners.

Hit parades and teen shows

Various stations had their hit parades featuring the best selling records of the week usually ranging down from seven or eight to number one. There was certainly no top 40 or best 100 in those days and I have to say that music was pretty awful in the early 1950s until rock and roll began with Elvis Presley’s Heartbreak Hotel and Rock around the Clock in 1956. Two execrable songs that stick in my memory that made the hot parades back then were Shrimp Boats is A-coming by warbler Jo Stafford and Band of Gold by a second rate crooner called Don Cherry. Awful stuff.

There were two major radio shows aimed at teenagers. Rumpus Room was on 2UE and was compared by the incredibly smooth Howard Craven while Teen Time was broadcast on 2GB and presided over by an ex-vaudevillian named Keith Walsh. I cannot remember the format of these shows, so they obviously were not all that memorable.

Comedy and other programs

Comedy and variety programs were a staple of wireless fare. Variety shows contained a mixture of musical items, thankfully better than those on the amateur hour, and comedy sketches. Comedy shows were mostly just comedy sketches and a lot of advertising. Among the most listened to shows were Calling the Stars, the Cashmere-Bouquet Show, and Bonnington’s Bunkhouse Show. These shows presented new employment chances for ex-vaudeville performers.

The most famous comedian of them all was Roy Rene who had several shows in his alternate persona as Mo McKackie, a stereotyped Australian Jew with a host of offsiders such as Young Harry (‘Young Harry, cop this) and Spencer the Garbage Man. The humour was crude with lots of sly double entendre and by modern standards both racist and sexist. Mo would not be tolerated in today’s media.

Other shows

There were other shows too, most of them forgettable but not The Quiz Kids where a team of really smart kids were asked different questions by quizmaster John Dease and tried to answer them. One’s own cleverness was calculated by how many we could answer as compared to the smart kids.

Among the quiz kids who subsequently went on to better things were Prime Mimister John Howard, NSW Premier Neville Wran, and Barry Jones who won fame by scooping the pool on Pick A Box before going into politics. Smarties!

And then came television

Television came to Australia in 1956 and although at first only the more prosperous families had a set, they became cheaper over the next few years and soon most families had one.

Programs in the first years began at 3.30 pm and ended at 11 pm with the playing of God Save the Queen against a patriotic backdrop. But the viewing day gradually increased and that spelled the end of the wireless as we then knew it. The serials, variety shows and quizzes transported to the new medium with some old shows making a successful transformation but others falling by the wayside and being replaced by newer and better ones.

I think the thing that suffered most from television coming on stream was playing outside and even more so today where there are so many other electronic opportunities for children. And that’s a pity.

But we were lucky as kids in Penrith in the forties and fifties. Sure, we didn’t have many of the material things that children of today have but we had big backyards to play in, a safe environment for most of us, strong family ties, and pastimes that may have been simple but which gave us lots of pleasure. I am glad that I grew up where I did.

Web site references for some of the programs mentioned in this post

There are some sample episodes here which may jog your memory, sweep you in a wave of noistalgia or start you laughing.

Dr Mac: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ajei9OESMDI

Australia’s Amateur Hour: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yrQ0zMLF1TE

The Search for the Golden Boomerang: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FIxyK9BGNLc

Night Beat: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=800Jw3AT66s

Hagen’s Circus: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hZq8Hoaa4lI

Yes What: https://www.dailymotion.com/video/xbcido

Bonningtons Bunkhouse Show: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zb7cOaW__Es

Mo McCackie: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C0rhAhtX1hg

The Quiz Kids: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O9zpRW6O2nc

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