Short Story 9: 1958 - "A Start - From Brunswick to Sherwood Forest"
Short Story 9- 1958: ANOTHER
THEATRICAL MALONEY
Some kids forge the Way! Others follow in the
Family Tradition. Here I was, aged 10, ready to do the Latter!
“A START – FROM
BRUNSWICK TO SHERWOOD FOREST”
Well actually it wasn’t a
START at all! In so many ways it could easily have been an END!
Mrs Box[1] taught Grade V at St Bernard’s College. Well, TAUGHT does not really explain her role as she sought to inspire us with wider life training, far wider than required or imagined. Hence, we learnt the words to Irish traditional poverty songs such as “Molly Malone”
In Dublin's fair city, where the girls are so
pretty
I first set my eyes on sweet Molly Malone
As she wheeled her wheelbarrow through streets broad and narrow
Crying cockles and mussels alive a-live O!
We learnt how to blow our nose in public, and how to stand when a Woman walks into a room. We, the next generation of Catholic lads, were being groomed for roles others just imagined.
We were the youngest class at the school, aged 9 to 11 – chosen by our parents to be there as aspirations of the basic working-class families of Western Melbourne.
The school itself was a post WWII creation of the Irish Christian Brothers and the dynamism of Melbourne’s Catholic Archbishop, Danny Mannix[2]. We were the hope of the Western Suburbs’ Catholics, with no government support, and no financial barriers to being there. We had so much in common – gender male, religion Catholic, Baby Boomers – and so much different with family backgrounds varying from Post-War refugees to great- grandchildren of Convicts. Aldo met Tony. Joe met Stefan. George met Mick.
The width, the breadth, the height of the aspirations and practices were being honed not by planning but by doing. Indeed, the school motto was “Discere et Agere” (“To Learn and To Do”).
Mrs. Box was therefore a perfect fit for a school that had no walls. As Catholic aspirations, all of us were accommodated – space was found. We had not been chosen by intellect or sports skills, although we didn’t lack much in either. We were the hope!
 The 1958 Grade 5
School Photo
|
The Brunswick boys knew
each other because of the red and green buses we caught to School, not because
we grew up together. Our suburb was the home of 60+ family languages and 5
distinctly different Catholic Parishes.
For Mrs Box, the highlight of the year was the College Speech Night – not for the Awards, not for the meeting of Parents, not for Br. Murphy’s political speeches, but because the Youngest of the School, her Class, were going to steal the show. She would and did create the six minutes of the night that would be remembered forever.
And in 1958, she decided that our six minutes would be “Robin Hood and his merry band of Men” – the legendary (and TV influenced) criminals/heroes who robbed the Rich to give to the Poor. I have often mused over the choice, and am quite sure that Archbishop Danny Mannix would have approved the theatrical metaphor at that time when no Australian Government wanted to finance any part of Catholic Education.
Of course, we Grade Fivers saw not the bigger picture, but were excited by visions of playing our roles as led by Richard Greene every Sunday on the telly. Australian Television was only two years old at the time and whilst most families did not own a set, I can assure you the 50+ of us had found ways to watch television somewhere down their street as often as possible and all of us knew the song –
Robin Hood, Robin Hood, riding through the glen
Robin Hood, Robin Hood, with his band of men
Feared by the bad, loved by the good
Robin Hood, Robin Hood, Robin Hood
He called the greatest archers to a tavern on the green
They vowed to help the people of the king
They handled all the troubles on the English country scene
And still found plenty of time to sing…………….
Mrs Box was on a winner as far as we were concerned when she made the Class announcement. We were sworn to secrecy in the two months preparation. Our Mums were to know but not our brothers or sisters, or, worst still, other students at school. The chances of secrecy at school or at home were negligible but we didn’t care – we were going to swing from trees upon the unsuspecting Sherriff’s men – sword fights, bows and arrows, long sticks, so much to learn in our dreams.
Mrs Box, in her dogmatic vision, discouraged the quest for fighting skills and encouraged us to focus on the song as the core piece of the Speech Night Presentation. So, there was lots of classroom rehearsal of the song (so much for keeping it a secret – this was a song to be sung out loudly, even if a bit out of tune).
Then there was the need to get us arranged in order of size – Bill Hardwick, Tommy Farrell[8], and John Distefano[9] of course at the back, and the vertically-challenged like the two Micks (Gleeson[10] and Griffiths[11]) and myself in the front.
I was not complaining. Although this would be my debut on stage, I came from a strong line of short, but talented, vaudeville jugglers and acrobats – I was at long last to show the World the next generation of theatrical Maloneys.
Well actually, I had been beaten to this moment by my older sister, Denise, who, aged 5, had stopped the show at the West Brunswick Progress Hall with her solo song and dance “Aba Dabba Honeymoon (the Monkey and the Chimp)”.
But she was a girl and
that didn’t count at an all-boys School Speech Night. I was in the front row –
bring it on!
I cannot remember the exact moment it dawned on me that the Robin Hood segment would not just be Chorus (with me in the front row) but would require some individual assignments. Maybe Mrs Box alluded to it! Maybe it just came with that classroom buzz that is often wrong but in this case it was right.
I started to dream about this next level – red, green, a hat with a very large feather ……… I was prepared to step up.
But Mrs Box was not on my wavelength. Instead, she chose Tony Prendergast[12] as Robin Hood! Alright, he was taller, blonde hair, good looking, Class Captain, and could excel at cricket and football, but really he had no family stage history.
We all stared at the floor when she then announced Adrian Ryan would be Maid Marian. The emotion was a collective sigh of relief but, strangely in our minds then, Adrian liked the idea and was keen to get home to tell his Mum.
Then Mrs Box looked directly at me and just said: “Friar Tuck”. I don’t know how long the class giggling went on, but it seemed days.
Friar Tuck – OK, one of
the main roles – but why me?
It took me several days to tell my Mum who no doubt composed her face and began to think of costuming. I did not tell my tap-dancing sister – it was really none of her business.
My heart was certainly not in the rehearsals, as I had now gone from front row of the Chorus to entering Stage Right at the 3rd verse.
With Friar Tuck and Little John, they had a roguish look,
They did the deed the others wouldn't dare.
He captured all the money that the evil sheriff took,
And rescued many a lady fair
I was to walk on stage
and stand to the right of Tony Prendergast, whilst big Tom Farrell (“Little
John”) would replicate the choreography with a Stage Left entrance. How
demoralising! Well, I guess it was better than being Adrian Ryan and not
getting an entrance until the 5th (and last) verse –
He rode up to the palace and was cheered by everyone
His Lady Marian threw him a rose
The King of England knighted him the Earl of Huntingdon
And that's the way that the legend goes
By Speech night, I had
rationalised my role away from early typecasting into “an important cameo
moment”! Perhaps I could even ham it up a bit with a long staff twirl.
Costuming hadn’t quite gone to plan as Mum had no money for hiring something, so she safety-pinned the length and closing of Dad’s woollen brown check dressing gown.
To this we added a skull cap (borrowed from a neighbour, Mr. Zantuck), my sister’s old ballet shoes, and I carried a reconfigured mop handle as a long staff. Mum also tied a small cushion to my waist to enhance the vital physical presence.
I practised my “long staff twirling” but Mrs Box discouraged this as I might hit Tony – the thought had never occurred to me!
Yes, the 1958 St Bernard’s College Speech Night audience was brought to yells of “Encore” and “More” as the Grade Fivers in the final item stole the Show. We had to do our six minutes twice before the applause and laughter settled down. What a success!
It was later that I learnt that my “entrance stage right” greatly helped the mirth, as the slowly comprehending audience at first thought I had inadvertently wandered onto stage whilst dressed for bed. I’m sure with reflection they worked it out!
P.S.
Mrs Box, despite her unfortunate casting choices in this production, went
on to further wonderful applause with
her creations of McNamara’s Band (let’s forget Tom Farrell’s mishap in the back
row) and the Pyjama Boys exercising backwards. Aaah, those were the days!
P.P.S.
Some grades later at St Bernard’s College, I followed Mrs Box’s example and
helped to form the College’s first Drama group. But that’s another story – one
in which I at last got the say on Casting
[1] Ann Irene (Mrs. Box) Comer (m. Box) 1903-2001
[2] Daniel Patrick Mannix (1864-1963)
[3] William John (Billy) Hardwick (1947-)
[4] Sean Damien (Seany) Franklin (1948-1970)
[5] Brian Vincent (Kav) Kavanagh (1948-)
[6] Alan Joseph (Triggy) Trigg (1948-)
[7] John Kieran Alphonsus (Br. Cregan) Cregan (1900-1965)
[8] Thomas Patrick (Tom or Tommy) Farrell (1949-2007)
[9] John Anthony (Stef) Di Stefano (1948-)
[10] Michael (Goggles) Gleeson (1948-)
[11] Michael John Griffiths (1948-1970)
[12]
Anthony Norman (Tony or
Spider) Prendergast (1948-)
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