Chapter 7.1 – All about Olive – The story of Olive Dangerfield

My great grandfather, Joseph Dangerfield 2 (1855-1939) had an older brother called, Henry (Harry) Dangerfield (1851-1919). Harry was the eldest of the Dangerfield family. He had twelve children and his youngest child was a girl named Olive Evelyn Riley (Johnson, Dangerfield). Olive was born in 1899 and lived to be 108 years old and died in 2008.

Olive Evelyn Riley (Johnson, Dangerfield) as a young girl.

A film-maker, Michael Rubbo, met Olive in the nursing home where she lived at Woy Woy, NSW. He was quite taken with Olive and decided to make a documentary film of Olive’s life. I have a copy of that documentary, I was fascinated by the film and once again, using my imagination, I went back in time to meet and talk with my kinswoman Olive Riley (Johnson, nee Dangerfield).

My great-great grandfather, Joseph Dangerfield #1, had 12 children. My great-grandfather, Joseph 2, was Joseph 1’s second son. Joseph’s older brother was Henry Dangerfield born in 1851. He also had a large family of 12 children. His youngest daughter was Olive Evelyn Riley (Dangerfield) and she was born in 1899 and lived to be 108 years old and died only 4 years ago, in 2008. I had never even heard of her until earlier this year. I was searching on the internet for names of relatives and found her name and her amazing story. Olive is my first cousin twice removed.

Olive was “discovered” by a gentleman by the name of Michael Rubbo who is a documentary filmmaker. Michael was doing some work with people who have lived to be 100 years and older. He was taken with Olive’s cheery nature and storytelling ability and he and his film crew took Olive back to her home town of Broken Hill and made a documentary film of her life. He also set up a blog for her on the internet and for some time she was known as “the world’s oldest blogger” and her blog was read by people all over the world.

To learn more about Olive and her life, I am going back  in my imagination to the year 2006 where I have arranged to meet Michael Rubbo at the senior citizen’s home at Woy Woy NSW where Olive lives. He will take me to meet Olive and to hear her story.

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“Hello. It is Fay isn’t it?” the tall bearded man smiled at me as he shook my hand.

“Yes it is,” I replied “and you’re Michael Rubbo. How do you do?”

“Good to see you Fay. I’m sure Olive is going to enjoy meeting you. Her room is on the other side of this courtyard, and… Oh there she is, she is not in her room today, she’s sitting out in the garden.”

It is the year 2006 and I am visiting the Woy Woy senior citizen’s home in Sydney, NSW, where Olive Riley (Dangerfield), my first cousin twice removed is living. Olive is an amazing 106 years of age and still going strong.

The resident’s rooms all open out onto a long veranda beside a large lawn area which is edged with fragrant beds of roses and lush greenery. A tiny lady in a flowered dress and a floppy sun hat is sitting under a gazebo which is the centerpiece of the lawn.

“Hello, Olive,” greets Michael. ‘How are you today? I’ve brought someone to see you.” Michael led me up to where Olive was sitting and pulled up two chairs for us to sit on.

“My name is Fay O’Connor, Olive, and I’ve come all the way from Adelaide to see you.”

“Have you dear? That’s a long way to come just to see me.”

“Fay has come to hear your story, Olive,’ said Michael. “Fay is your first cousin twice removed and she is writing a book about the Dangerfield’s and she’d like you to tell her your story.”

“Is she now? My first cousin, twice….? Well fancy that. It is very nice to meet you dear and I’d love to tell you my story. I’ll sing you some songs too if you like?’ said Olive. Olive looks like a Dangerfield to me. She has the long face with reddish hair, but a softer shade than the vivid color it once would have been.

“Thank you Olive. Olive, do you remember what year you were born?”

” ‘Course I do. I was born in Broken Hill way back in 1899 on the 20th July. That’s when NSW was still a colony and Queen Victoria was on the throne of England. That’s long before your time.

I was the youngest of 12 children. My Mum was Lilian Sarah Dangerfield (Thoday, Evans) and it was her second marriage; first she married one of the Thoday boys, but when he died, then she married my Dad, Henry Dangerfield. I was the youngest of her 12 children and Mum never liked me much; in fact I don’t know whether she liked any of us kids very much; but she certainly didn’t like me. I was too feisty and used to stand up to her. Or maybe she just had too many children.

I had a sister Emma who loved me and I loved her. Aw, she was lovely, she was, but she died when I was only 6.”

“That’s so sad, Olive,’ I said, “you must have missed her dreadfully if she was the only one who loved you?”

“Oh, I got over it. I had a good life really, a good life for them days anyway. There wasn’t much money around in them days.”

“Where did you go to school, Olive?”

“I went to the Broken Hill Primary School and for a while to the secondary school.”

“And were you a good student?”

“Heavens, no! I was no good at school. I was no good at dressmaking either and I was always in trouble. I remember once I flicked ink onto my teacher’s skirt when her back was turned. I thought it was funny but she did not!

So many scrapes I got myself into. I had red hair in those days and red-haired kids always got teased. That’s why redheads all have quick tempers, I’m sure. I was coming home from school one day and this girl Katie Raven sang out,

“Red for danger! Danger in the field!

She did it all the time but this time I got angry.

“I’ll show you danger,” I said, winding up my arm. “I gave her a beautiful punch, right in the jaw.” Olive smacked her fist into her hand, savoring the memory.

“Oh, jeez, she fell and never got up – I’d knocked her out!”

“What happened then, Olive?”

“Well the police came to Mum, who’s never been on my side and they said if it ever happened again they’d send me off to reform school!”

“My goodness, that would have given you a fright.”

“It would have been about 1911 when that happened, because I was 12 at the time. You can’t deal with bullies that way these days, can you?” Olive smiled at me with a cheeky little girl look.

“No you can’t, Olive,” I laughed. “There were lots of things you could do and get away with in those days that you can’t now. These days bullies seem to go largely unpunished.”

“Well, they didn’t when I was a kid.”

“Olive, tell Fay about Billy,” interjected Michael.

“That was a scandal if ever there was one,” said Olive. “Broken Hill was a mining town, but for all that it was a pretty prim and proper place for women, if not for men.

There was a child born ‘out of wedlock’ to a woman that we knew and our family used to help this woman. Anyway the officials came to collect Billy; that was his name. They came twice but each time I wasn’t going to let them take him away, so I took him out in the bush.

I was only seven years old at the time but they weren’t going to touch our Billy if I had a say in it! Billy and I stayed out in the bush until it was dark and then I brought him back home and weren’t we hungry when we got there.

Billy stayed with us after that and when he grew up he took care of my Mum for the rest of her life. Mum loved Billy like she never loved any of us.” Olive sat staring at her hands, deep in thought.

“Olive, how old were you when you left school?”

“I was about 12 years old when I left school. I was only 15 years old when I worked in my first Pub and I worked in Pubs for much of my life. That’s where I built up all my stories. You had to talk to the patrons when they came in, and you always had to be cheerful and chatty and so that’s what I did. I served behind a bar for the final time in Arncliffe when I was 79 years old. Not a bad run for an old biddy like me, ‘ey?”

“It was a good run, Olive” Michael joined in, “but you did other kinds of work too didn’t you?”

“Yes, I did a bit of everything I guess. I married Bernard Johnson when I was 19 years old. He was a miner in the mines and they used to call him ‘Barnie’ and I was ‘Bonnie.’

I’ve worked as a station cook in rural Queensland, and as an egg sorter and as an hotel cleaner and I’ve worked in hotels all over the country.

In Adelaide I even met Rupert Murdoch once when he was only a young fella. I was never fond of him much because I was a staunch trade unionist and he wouldn’t like that, but he was very polite to me, mind you.”

“Tell me about your husband, Olive.”

“I was 19 when I married Barnie and I had three small children when I found out he’d been unfaithful to me. You see I was a skinny little thing, I was only 6 ½ stone, with no bosoms to speak of, and she was some pretty young thing.

He was an abusive and unfaithful b…. and I wasn’t going to put up with that malarkey, so one day I just packed up and left. I took everything that I was allowed to. In those days you had to leave ‘em with a plate and a knife and fork, a bed and a table and chair and that’s what I did. I took everything else. I caught a train to Adelaide to stay with me Mum.”

“And what did Barnie do after that Olive?” Michael asked.

“Barnie got mad and followed me to Adelaide to fight for custody of the children. The judge asked me why I wouldn’t go back and reconcile with him and I said,

“I’ve lived with him, you ‘aven’t!”

The judge thought I was just a cheeky young barmaid who’d split up the marriage, and so she gave him custody of the children.”

“How did you feel about that, Olive?’ I asked. Olive laughed and slapped her hand on her knee.

“I didn’t worry at all! I told the Judge that Barnie wouldn’t know how to look after the kids so I’d have them back within a week.”

“And did you?” I asked.

“That I did,” crowed Olive, obviously enjoying the memory.

“He came back with the kids in tow and said he comanage them and I could have them back. They told me that they had played up specially so he would have to bring them back. Them kids were as resourceful as me, they were!”

“You married twice, didn’t you Olive? Tell Fay about your second husband,” Michael interjected.

“My second marriage was to ‘Bing’ Riley, but he died 20 years ago. Bing was a friend of my son, Barnie, and was 10 years younger than me. I met him when he and my son Barnie returned from World War II. He was a nice man. I liked him a whole lot better than my first husband. Well that’s my story.”

“Michael, when did you meet Olive,” I asked.

“Well, I was a film maker and I was researching a documentary about centenarians. I met Olive over four years ago when I began asking her about her life. I found she hadn’t used a telephone until she was 20, knew nothing about computers, but had a memory like a computer hard drive. I began capturing her memories which resulted in the production of a documentary film, ‘All About Olive,’ which included her first trip back to Broken Hill in decades to see the scenes of her childhood. This led to Olive’s now famous ‘blob’ as she called it where she narrated her stories which were uploaded to her blog. Olive was amazed when she received feedback from readers around the world. Olive loves to talk about the past, but she doesn’t live in it. Olive is the happiest most forward looking lady I have ever known. A visit to see her family in Queensland was for Olive a chance to indulge in shandies in the swimming pool more than a journey into the past.”

“I did so enjoy meself in Queensland,” Olive smiled.

“You certainly did, Olive. One of the most noteworthy things about Olive is that even when confined to a wheelchair here at Woy Woy, she embraces the internet and anything else that is offered by life. We traveled together to Broken hill to create the documentary and when it was completed I gave Olive a co-directing credit because I felt she deserved it because of her extraordinary input in recreating her life.”

“Well, it was my life, when all is said and done, and I knew more about it than you lot did!” exclaimed Olive.

“So you did, Olive, and you were able to relive so many of the events that happened in your younger life in Broken Hill, like the death of your beloved elder sister, Emma. This still profoundly affects her Fay, even after 100 years. She was very moved when we were able to locate her sister Emma’s long-lost grave. I think it brought a sense of healing to an old wound. And one thing is for sure, ‘All About Olive’ was one of the most successful documentaries on ABC TV that we have seen in recent times.”

Olive was looking tired by now and so we said our goodbyes. Both Michael and I gave her a kiss and a hug and left together. Michael and I chatted for a little and then went our separate ways, both back to the same year, 2012, but Michael to New South Wales, and I to Adelaide, SA.