Snippet 14 - Memories of Brunswick
Snippet of Family History - "We are born with a History, and we live to tell another Story" (Warren Maloney)
Snippet 14 - Memories of Brunswick
WHEN YOU ARE A STEP UP FROM THE "HOI POLLOI" IN BRUNSWICK
Blyth Street was very much the "significant"
address in Brunswick from the 1920s to the 1960s. Doctors, Quarry Managers,
Commercial Landlords, and Accountants distinguished their family needs with one
of the fine houses in a fine wide street.
Flats and too many cars took care of that status by the 70s.The
Doctors are long since gone. The Quarries are closed. The Landlords are largely
Corporations, and the Accountants have amalgamated several times over. Such is the passing of time
in Brunny.
Blyth is still a fine street with
the iconic view to Sydney Road at one end and the links to North Fitzroy and
Carlton at the other end.
ANOTHER ICONIC BUILDING IN BRUNNY
Clifton Brickworks in Dawson Street and the large quarry behind
were integral to Brunswick - jobs for digging up the clay, making the bricks,
building the quarry workers' cottages and the Building Societies' two storey
terraces ....
PUTTING YOUR DAUGHTER ON THE STAGE IN BRUNSWICK
During the '40s & '50s, Eileen O'Leary ran her dance classes at
the West Brunswick Progress Association Hall in Victoria Street - Ballet, Tap,
Jazz, and even Jive.
Endless Mothers & Daughters trooped up those bluestone steps
and aspired to be the new Cyd Charisse or Debbie Reynolds. Of course, not all
had that extra bit of talent. But some did and were put in individual acts
(rather than the chorus line) at the Annual Eileen O'Leary Show.
My sister, Denise, aged 6, brought them to their feet with her
"Abba Dabba Dabba, said the Monkey to the Chimp..."
"Denise has talent", Mrs O'Leary told Mum.
"She should keep dancing!" And she did!
Sometime between the 40s and the 60s, most Brunswick families
moved their top priority to getting the FAMILY CAR. It was a big deal - a time
to show off to neighbours/friends that you were "going alright"
- that "you had your act together".
Carports & garages came later - You parked your FAMILY CAR
in the street outside your house - the kids spent the first day in it (even
skipping school), then you planned your first "driving family holiday",
and you just had to drive somewhere on a
Sunday for the family picnic.
Ron's Car - passengers Gary & Jo-Anne Testro & Warren Maloney with Ray Maloney admiring - 1951.
WEST BRUNSWICK AND RELIGION AND THE '50s
Mum was a Pressie and Dad was a Mick, which meant family angst
on many occasions such as baptisms and weddings with Aunts not talking and
Mortal Sins for attending Proddy churches.
Typically, Mum pushed us along to Mass on a Sunday and St Joey's
Primary School during the week, even though she was "never going to
follow their nonsense".
So, despite a "mixed marriage of the parents", in 1956 I was dressed in white satin and gloves and got to carry the Crown at the Feast of the Crowning of the Blessed Virgin. St Joey Nuns loved the rituals, and they and Fr. Mac made sure the Church was overflowing on those big days. I guess a bit of "Look how many we've got!"
PARTIES AT HOME IN THE BRUNSWICK OF THE '50s
Neighbours and Friends walked there bearing plates of goodies.
The Blokes stood laughing around the beer keg - the Women folk
kept the aprons on, prepared the food (lots of cut meats & cheeses &
spuds) in the impossibly crowded kitchen - then had a Shandy and a Ciggy whilst
laughing.
The trestle table (borrowed from the church hall) was covered in
the best tablecloths.
Few sat - someone usually had the right voice to sing
"Danny Boy" - the kids were herded for sleeping in the bungalow out
the back.
And sometime around midnight all walked home after "a
good night".
MY OLD MAN WAS "A SOFT TOUCH"
Thinking about my Dad today reminded me of his love to help any
kid with a problem.
The theory behind buying the local Milk Bar in 1960 was good.
Mum would leave the Factory and work the Milk Bar during the day. Dad would
stay at the Factory and work the Milk Bar on the weekends. They could afford
then to put Denise and me through School.
And the jam and cream in this Milk Bar takings would be the 100
school lunches for the kids at St Joseph’s Primary School up the road.
But the theory disintegrated from Day 1 when Dad excitedly took
the day off from the Factory to help in the shop.
He listened to the hard luck story from a snotty nosed 8 yr. old
who apparently hadn’t eaten that Century and had no money from his Mum. Dad fed
the kid play lunch and was amazed to find the shop filled at lunchtime by an
endless stream of kids who also had never eaten and had equally heartless Mums.
Dad would always argue that the Milk Bar was a good business but
that by 1969 the Supermarkets beat us.
Maybe they contributed, but at least no one went hungry in Hope
St West Brunswick.
WICKED PRINCES & GREAT DAMES &
THE AUDIENCE SHOUTING ENCOURAGEMENT
From the 30s to the 60s, Pantomimes packed the Theatres and the
Town Hall in Brunswick.
You sat enthralled as you booed the Baddies, sang along with the
Funny Men, at the same time as you pushed your wooden spoon into the softening
Dixie Ice cream or sneaked that extra Fantail from your Mum's packet.
It was fun in the simplest form. "Oh No I'm
NOT"..."Oh Yes you ARE". "Oh No I'm ......."
You were unaware that the performers were largely once famous
vaudevillians scratching out a living before the Movies finally took over every
night at the Padua, the Western or the Liberty. They were just great fun!
I do miss those Saturdays in Brunswick!
BRUNSWICK - A TAD EXCITED FOR OUR NEW HER MAJ.
June 1953 and Hiltons Hosiery in Albion Street put on a
"beaut spread" for Management and Factory Staff to welcome
Elizabeth's Coronation.
Definitely Sunday Best to be worn. An ample
number of kegs for the Chaps. Sherries and Pimms for the Ladies (who also got 2
pairs of stockings the day before to help with their frock-ups).
A fine speech by the MD - a souvenir programme
to take home - all in all, a good start to her Reign. Hiltons did her Proud!
THE WORLD CUP 1982
1982 when I was playing Mayor at Brunswick, one of the Councillors, Greg Incantalupo, asked me if he could use the Mayoral Chambers for his "kids and family and a couple of friends" to watch the World Cup Final. I said - "No worries. Enjoy", and gave him a bottle of Champers in anticipation of Italy winning.
That night as Karen & I returned down Sydney Road after attending a local Community function we saw the largest ever Italian flag draped over the Mayoral balcony, scores (if not many more) of happy Italians pouring into the Council offices, and a sky rocket emerging from my mayoral office window. It appeared that Italy had won and that I should have asked "How many Friends?" It was a night to remember in Sydney Road. And the Mayoral Cupboard was drunk dry.
PS. 4 days later a very large unmarked truck delivered several dozen cases of Chiani to replenish the Mayoral supplies. The Italian Flag did a tour of duty on balconies up and down Sydney Road that week. Fortunately, we had very few West German voters in the municipality at the time.
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