The Blacksmith’s Daughter by Fay Berry 2013 © – Chapter 29 – 19570128

My first job was as the Personal Assistant to the Assistant Advertising Manager of News Limited –   1957

 

In 1956, Pride’s Business College were approached by Mr Barrow, the Advertising Manager of News Limited, to supply them with a girl who would be suitable for the position of Secretary to the Assistant Advertising Manager of The News. Mrs Pride chose me to fill the position and I was absolutely delighted, particularly after my bad experience with Schuman Lighting.

Mr Jack Riseley was the Assistant Advertising Manager at that time and so he became my first boss at News Limited. Jack died not long after I began working at The News. His position was taken over by Mr Bill Briton-Jones, a lovely rolly-poly man with a balding head, a mustache and a cheerful happy nature. Prior to Jack Riseley’s death, Bill and Bob Briton-Jones, who were twins, both worked as salesmen in the Advertising Department. Mr Barrow promoted Bill to be his Assistant Manager, and so Bill became my second boss at The News. I loved Bill BJ. I had such good times with him as my Boss.

Mr Barrow turned out to be a close friend of Dudley Hicks, Ron Hicks’ father from the Adelaide ecclesia. Mr Barrow’s secretary was Joan Schumacher. She came from a lovely family who lived on Osmond Terrace, Norwood. I visited her home only once when Joan invited me to her birthday party at her home. Her family home was one of those gracious older style “mansions” that can be found all along Osmond Terrace to this day. Joan was a sweet-natured girl, very conservative and the best secretary Mr Barrow could have hoped for. She was patient and kind and helpful to me while I worked at The News, and I adored her.

Mr Barrow was a different “kettle of fish.” He bore the whole weight of the Advertising Department on his shoulders, including the “rabble” of office and messenger boys and all the salesmen in the department. He suffered badly from gout and his mood each day was dictated by the big toe on his right foot. He liked me but patronized me. When he was in a good mood he teased me mercilessly (and you know how much I liked being teased!!) When he was in a bad mood he became irritable, critical and suspicious. That is why Joan was the perfect secretary for Mr Barrow. She was beautiful to look at, gracious in her manner and very, very efficient. Joan was the “go-between” between Mr Barrow and all his staff when his big toe gave him grief.

A few years after I left the News, things did not go well for Mr Barrow at The News.  In an article which you can find in this link, it talks of Mr Barrows demise from The News, at the hand of Rupert Murdoch and in fact resulted in his actual death.

In the article was written the following:

“Keith Barrow was a long-serving Adelaide employee who came to me in tears one day. The man in question was a highly respected advertising manager, who had come to Melbourne from his sick bed in Adelaide to help set up an advertising sales staff for The Australian when it was established in 1964. His name was Keith Barrow. He was in his late fifties. He was a good and honorable man.

“But one day Rupert found him walking very slowly up the stairs of an old office building The Australian was temporarily occupying. There was no elevator — just four flights of stairs to the top floor office. He needed to stop to rest several times before he reached the top.

“Rupert bounded past him and flew up the steps to the office before Keith was even halfway. He saw Keith’s deputy and told him:

“Keith is too ….. old for this job. Sack him. You take over!”  

“An hour later, Keith came to see me in my office across the road. “I’ve been sacked,” he said and burst into tears.

“Like most of the people who had worked for The News in Adelaide, Keith revered the Murdoch name — father and son. He had started as an office boy and, in 30 years, he had worked his way up to become a highly respected advertising manager, known and respected throughout the industry.

“Now he sat before me and wept.

“I gave him a cup of tea and we talked quietly. I tried to explain that Rupert was anxious about the new paper and that he would surely relent. Then I took Keith to the airport and put him on a plane.

“A week later, his wife phoned me: Keith was dead from a heart attack.”

I didn’t find this out until years after I left The News, and I felt so sorry for Keith, he  had been a pretty good boss and he was a good man.

My job at The News was the best and most enjoyable job that I ever had in all the years that followed. I look back over time at the News and feel just a little bit guilty when I think of certain “liberties” I took during the time I was working at The News. The News enjoyed a culture of freedom and a relaxed work environment, possibly because it was such a prosperous period financially in Adelaide at the time. The work that I had to do at The News was very specific. There was either a flood of work and at such times I was required to work overtime, or there was little or no work to do at all.

I soon got into the habit of  “doing my own work,” work “for the Truth” during the slack periods. I used to type up notes from the various Bible classes or type up my diary because I couldn’t bear to sit and do nothing. No one, not even Mr Barrow had a real problem with this, because it was considered that it was better for me to “look busy” in slack times than to sit and read a book which would make people think that our department was “slack.” It only became a problem when Mr Barrow’s big toe was swollen and inflamed. At such times Mr Barrow would be irritable and “tetchy” and looking for something or someone to take his irritability out on. At such times, I was always available. He couldn’t be irritable with Joan because she was “perfection personified” and she would not have coped with being treated in any other than a dignified manner. I, however, had many flaws and on his bad days he would have a field day with me.

Once he told me not to wear jumpers to work because they were a distraction to the men in the office!!! He really did! He called me into his office to tell me that. I was very upset for days afterwards and didn’t know what to do because jumpers were what I wore in winter and I couldn’t afford to change my clothing simply because Mr Barrow suffered from gout. Joan was very unhappy with Mr Barrow over this incident and she spoke to him about it and said that she thought his comment completely inappropriate. It was also on his bad days that he would notice and complain about me “doing my own work in work hours,” but when I would ask him what he suggested I do instead, to occupy the time when he was unable to find work for me to do. I asked him “Would you like me to read a book?” No, he was not happy for me to read a book, so it was a “catch-22 situation,” which only emerged as a problem when his gout was playing up.

I am sure the problem only existed because there were more people hired to work than were actually needed in the office. I am sure that Joan Schumacher could really have managed the work for both Mr Barrow and Mr Bill Briton Jones, but there would have been times when the workload would have been too much for her and so they hired me, an inexpensive junior, to make sure that valuable Joan was never overworked and could take holidays when she desired. In the 1950s, work was comparatively easy to get. An employee could leave a job today and generally be back in work within a week and there was not the job insecurity in the workplace that exists today. Work was plentiful and easy to get. Even without training, there were plenty of jobs. The 2nd World War was over and the whole of Australia was a hive of activity.

1957 proved to be for me, “the best of times and the worst of times. ” It was a year of temptation for me. I was young, I was friendly and on the whole I had a cheerful and happy nature. I had been baptized, probably way too soon. The “world” was opening up to me, and my “human nature’ wanted to go in one direction whilst my growing love of God and the Truth was pulling me in another. It was a “year of conflict.”

I had fallen “head over heels in love” with Bob Wiltshire, one of the advertising salesmen, and he with me, but because I would not accept his invitations to go to the movies with him (movies were not on the menu for newly baptized CDs) he assumed I did not care for him sufficiently to go on dates with him at all. I didn’t have the “nouse” to tell him my problem and suggest an alternative activity, such as going for a drive or maybe to a young folk’s activity. (Years later I met up with Bob again.

By this time he was Advertising Manager of Channel Seven.  He invited me to meet him at this work, so I went to Channel Seven and we had lunch together in their canteen. He asked me what had happened all those years ago and when I told him what my problem had been then, he was dumbfounded. He said, “If you had told me then that you wouldn’t go to movies but would go for a drive, or wanted me to go to your Church, I would have gone anywhere with you because I really liked you!  ” How young and naive I was in those days.) One day Bob turned up at work and announced that over the weekend he had got engaged to his long-time girlfriend. I was distraught and utterly bereft. That news was bad enough, but to make things even more difficult for me , Bob’s engagement didn’t seem to stop him from paying me attention and I did not seem able to resist, so I soon found myself  “in trouble big.”

I think God, and the Southport Youth Conference, and the wise counsel of two of the hosts at the Conference, Stan and Sheila Bailey, “saved” me, by their wide counsel,  from the fate I was inexorably heading towards, a relationship with a man who was soon to be married to someone else. . For months I had been saving up to go to the Southport Youth Conference, and so when the tension and temptation of seeing Bob every day at work was getting too much for me, I was soon in the air and flying to Coolangatta airport to attend the 1957 Youth Conference.

At the conference, I poured out my heart and all my confusion to the hosts, Stan and Sheila Bailey and they told me that there has always and ever been only one way out of the dilemma I found myself in. “Flee temptation” they advised me, “it saved Joseph, and it will save you.” When I returned to Adelaide I abruptly and firmly severed my ties with Bob, but even that was too hard for me. The only solution I soon found that worked was to resign from my job and get right away from daily contact with Bob, even though it meant leaving my cushy job and my long-suffering bosses, and my beautiful Joan Shumacker.

 

 

 

 

DIARY ENTRIES

19570114 – Received a letter from Barrie Spencer. He spent the Sunday in Inverell swimming in the river there. He is going home on 26th January for the long week end. Allan Hawkins visited Barrie’s cousin Allan Spencer wo is brother of Marion Spencer.

19570128 – I received a card from Nancy King.

19570204 – Received a letter from Merrita Spencer.

19570216 – My brother Maynard and Roma Dawn Wilson were married at the Temple in Adelaide.

19570221 – I wrote a letter to Bob at Campsie one week after Maynard and Roma’s wedding. Only Graham is left and he is going very strongly with Barbara Etherington. Uncle Perce gave one of the talks at the wedding and dug up numerous family skeletons. As he spoke I thought about him, how that I believed that without the truth he would be an insignificant little man, but although small in stature, he’s anything but insignificant. I have just washed my hair because I went swimming in the Torrens last night and mud and weeds are not the best things for hair. YMIC class is being held at our place tonight. I will have to help with the supper. Daniel Class started on Tuesday night. About 60 Young Folk were there. I had to do the resume. Phyllis Matthews also asked me to do a magazine article for the Adelaide Young Folk class.

19570222 – Wrote a letter to Barry Spencer and received a letter from Merrita. We are getting a new floor and new carpets for the office because of white ants. The office is a mess and Mr Barrow is a stickler for neatness. Joan Schumacher is trying to take shorthand from Mr Barrow in the middle of all the mess. An important visitor from Sydney walked in to see Mr Barrow and tripped over two volumes of the Oxford dictionary. I laughed and so did Mr Briton Jones. Mr Barrow was not amused! I don’t think he has a sense of humor.

A boy from one of the agencies came in today with a list of Bible questions for me to answer. Woe, I met up with this boy in rather a strange way. There is a lad who comes around to our department from one of the Adelaide advertising agencies who is a real gossip and he asked me one day if I knew a boy by the name of Roger Griggs. That was the name of a school friend of mine, so I said “Yes .” Next visit this lad told me that Roger Griggs was going through the courts as a Conscientious Objector. Naturally, this got me interested. I decided to ring him up as we had been good friends and arrange to see him. I rang him that afternoon.

19570227  – Received a letter from Anthony Deverson from Sydney.

19570302 – Received a letter from Bruce Smith.

19570305 – Dad received a letter from Anthony Deverson. The letter was to Dad but with mentions of me throughout. They live at 142 Loftus Avenue, Loftus. He wanted me to send photos. Bruce Philp came to their house and said he had a letter from a sister in America who had a letter from Fay O’Connor. They thought that I must be quite a big corresponder for my letters to go that far.

19570312 – Received a letter from Bob from Campsie thanking me for notes I sent him, to 55 Moore Street, Campsie.

19570318 – Letter to Anthony Deversen. Anthony has been baptised. I asked him whether he was looking forward to the Conference. He has taken up photography. Perce Mansfield gave me the address of Allan Eyre for me to write to him and also the address of a girl called Rowena Rickets who lives in Jamaica. I go to Woodville Sunday School where Perce is teaching us “The events connected with Christ’s second coming. We studied Galatians last year.

19570320 – I received a card from Roma O’Connor thanking me for the statue of a horse I gave them for their wedding.

19570322 – Today was the day I was to meet Bob W. In my lunch hour. Well, it didn’t come off. I told him yesterday that if I hadn’t made that promise (in a moment of “weakness”) I wouldn’t be agreeing to the drive. Today, he must have had an attack of conscience too, because he asked me if I wanted to be freed from my promise. I told him that was for him to decide. He decided to call it off for now, though he might still hold me to my promise at some future date if he should meet me in a less planned way.

I went around for the rest of the afternoon feeling much happier because my conscience didn’t feel quite so heavy. Don’t know whether that made him change his mind or whether he just wanted to get me out of his system, the sooner the better, but he asked me to ride along North Terrace and he would pick me up and take me for a ride. I agreed. That also did not come off. At 5.00 Mr Briton Jones asked me to go up the street to the nearest bookshop and get a game of “Housy Housy.”

I couldn’t get it at the corner shop, so I tried Sands and Macs, then Rigbys. By that time it was a quarter past five and still, I hadn’t got a set. I came back to work. Bob wasn’t there. I started to pack up and Bob came back on some pretense or other and as I passed him, I whispered that I’d be ready as soon as possible. He told me to leave it for this time. I agreed. I felt a bit let down in a way because Bob is in my system too and the sooner I get this “promise “ out of the way, the sooner I can settle down to forgetting him and doing the right thing, namely, interesting myself in the Truth only, and if Id must have boyfriends, then only boys in the Truth. The trouble is, I’m so attracted to Bob.

This evening Lewis Osborne rang me and reminded me of the pamphlet distribution and also asked me if he could pick me up. Although I had intended to say “No,” I ended up saying “Yes,” because he sounded so miserable. Another boy would take the hint, but when I say, “I’d rather not,” to Lew, instead of saying, “All right, see you later” as most other boys would, he would always just say nothing and look miserable. Out of guilt and pity for him, I would say, “Yes.” So when I heard myself say “Yes, I could have kicked myself.

At 7.20 he picked me up and drove me into town. There was quite a crowd there, including Jeff Berry and Keith Noble. From that moment on I did all the things any self-respecting girl should not do. I asked Dawn Lawrie if she was interested in Lew, and tried to palm him off on her, she didn’t mind, but unfortunately Lew did. When Lew asked me to partner him for the distribution, I said, “Not tonight, if you don’t mind, Lew.” He looked as if I had dropped a ton of bricks on him. I hurried on to explain that I liked him a lot but also liked other people too.

Keith Noble came up to our group later and asked if we were all fixed up and was anyone coming in John Knowles’ car. Again I was forward and said that I would like to go in John’s car which was a surprise to them because they had assumed I was going with Lew since I had arrived with him. So we started off in John’s car. Those in the car were Jeff and Gnari Strudwick and Wendy Jolly and Keith Noble and John Knowles and me.

I really don’t know what got into me this evening but I must have gone mad. I decided I wanted to go with Keith Noble and did everything in my power to partner him, but he ended up going with Wendy Jolly. Usually, I’d be too proud to behave as I did. In the end I just wished I had stayed home. I ended up being John Knowles’s partner for the distribution. We discussed quite a few things on the way in a kind of stilted way, but when we had finished delivering our pamphlets we chatted a bit more easily. When Keith Noble and Wendy Jolly arrived back, we talked about everything that had happened on their part of the distribution and we joked about Jeff Berry and his “harem of girls.” John has a wry sense of humor and so has Keith. At one stage I said to Keith, “Keith, what is Jeff Berry really like?” and Keith answered, “What’s Jeff Berry like? Oh, he’s absolutely terrific. You ask him!” I laughed so much.

When Jeff Berry and Gnari Strudwick arrived back, I thought Ngari looked a bit “up in the air.” “Another conquest for Jeff,” I thought.

Then it was time to go home. John drove Keith home first, then Gnari, and then Jeff and then instead of taking me home next, because my house was closer than Wendy’s, John drove Wendy home first. After he dropped Wendy off I got into the front next to him and we started for my home. He stopped in front of my place and turned off the engine. I was surprised that he had stopped because I knew that his car engine took some starting. I hoped he didn’t stop just to be polite.

Anyway, we started to chat, but all the time I was worrying about whether he wanted to stay and talk or whether he was just being polite. John is the type of lad who however much he wants to do a thing or not do a thing, he will do what the other person wants, rather than hurt their feelings and I was not sure whether he wanted to be sitting talking to me or not. We ended up talking for about half an hour and then he said he had better go as it was late. I felt terrible then because I had the feeling that he had wanted to go ages ago, but hadn’t out of politeness to me or some such. I helped him start the engine then went inside, hating myself completely and not feeling happy either about the things we had talked about. I had told him about Lew and our “ups and downs” and questioned him quite extensively about Jeff Berry and Keith Noble.

I took five aspirins, went to bed, and endeavoured to say my prayers. I didn’t make a very good job of it.

It’s funny but while I do the “right thing” at work, do my readings each evening, do the work in the Truth everything is fine. As soon as I slip up at work, behave as a Christadelphian should not do, then things start to go wrong. The more I learn about the Truth, the more things I find are banned for me. “The Spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak.”

19570323 Saturday –  I woke up this morning in a foul mood. Mum asked me how I got on last night. I ignored the question. I got ready for work and started out, late as usual. Every time I thought about last night, I shuddered and when Mum asked me if I was coming home for dinner, on the spur of the moment I decided not to. I had intended to go to tennis but as Keith, John, and Jeff would be there and I didn’t want to see any of them at the moment, I decided against it.

There was hardly any work to do at work this morning, so I started this diary, hoping that if I write things down, they might become clearer in my mind and help me to make decisions. I went over to the other building at 12 o’clock to take over some things for the bag and got into a conversation with Roger Thompson, “Candles” Thomson’s brother. He asked me if I’d seen anything of Merve Schiaparelli lately. He said it with a bit of a quirk to his mouth, which made me answer airily that I hadn’t seen him for months, and I hadn’t, not since I stopped going to the beach with Stan Dixon.

I spent the afternoon typing in my Diary in between talking to one of the lads from Editorial who kept coming over every now and then to chat. He asked me to go out with him this evening, but I said, “No.” He promised to bring his tape recorder to work on Saturday week so that we can muck around with it for a bit.

Lenny made himself a nuisance as usual. He got onto my typewriter and I couldn’t get him off of it. I would have lost “dignity” if I had tried to force him away. I managed to remove him finally with the help of one of the men from Commercial. Lenny’s such a delinquent. I caught him walking off with my bike this morning. “Going for a ride” he said. If Mr Waters finds out, he will be out on his neck for sure, because he has already had his “last warning.”

I left The News at about 5.00 and rode to the tennis courts where I talked with Beth Kennett and Ray Frankham for a while. Ray wants a job for Saturdays and asked me what it would be like at The News. I advised him to go to The Advertiser because they pay better. Beth is thinking of buying a bike and I did my best to persuade her to buy one. I told her how much money it saved me because I not only saved on fares but there was also no temptation to buy a drink or anything on the way home. Naturally, just as I had said this, Elaine Luke had to comment that she had seen me going into a shop after work on Friday and coming out carrying a bottle of drink. You can’t win! It seemed to strike Beth as very funny because she laughed until she cried.

Lewis came up then and queried something in the notes I had typed for him and I spent time explaining things to him. He walked with me to my bike and we talked for a while. He asked me what I had been saying to Dawn Lawrie the other night, to which I replied, ever so sweetly, “That’s none of your business, Lew.” From there we both began to discuss what had happened that evening and I explained in nicer terms the reasons for what I had said to him and he thanked me for telling him why I didn’t want to go on the distribution with him. He said that he understood and had taken it in the way that I had intended it. I told him that although I liked him a lot, I also liked being with other young people as well. He agreed that’s how it should be and told me that he realised that he had been “gluttonising” my company (what a word!).

Evidently he had not intended asking me to partner him for the distribution last night, but when he saw Jeff Berry with his arm around me and me laughing up at him he was terribly jealous and that was why he changed his mind. When we left in John’s car he thought I was sitting with Jeff which made him more jealous than ever.

I told him that Dawn was very interested in him and that even if he was not interested in her as a girlfriend, it wouldn’t do him any harm if he took her home from time to time as well as taking me home now and then if he still wanted to. I said that whatever he chose to do, the fact remained that I did not want to spend ALL my time in his company. Ruth Eakins pulled up in her car at about this time and she gave Lew a lift and I rode home. It was getting rather late when I arrived home and after I had dressed for Young Folks, I decided not to be bothered with buses and trams, but rather to ride my bike.

It was a wonderful ride, a tailwind all the way, and a lovely evening to top it off. I arrived on time (wonder of wonders). I was a bit hot though. I washed my face and plastered some “Gemey” on so that I didn’t smell too much as though I had ridden halfway around the world. I walked in first with the other girls coming after, and there was Lew sitting in the seat next to the one I usually sit on, with his file of my notes on his lap and showing them to Ron Hicks. Nancy King and I got talking after the meeting about our memories of “Shipton,” Cobbitty, Camden, in other words, the Josephs. Nancy still feels rather strongly about the Joseph family, because it brought tears to her eyes just thinking about them.

Dean Pitt came up while we were talking and he joined in our conversation. He’s a nice lad, bit shy, though. Robin Mansfield is nice too. In fact the whole crowd of the Woodville contingent are awfully nice. Judith Mansfield is getting excited about the Youth Conference and it even made me feel a bit excited too.

It was so pleasant riding home, though there was no tailwind. As I went, I thought about “The Affairs in the Middle of the Woodville YF Class,” or “Signs of the Woodville Times.” Lew followed my advice and took Dawn Lawrie home. She was thrilled to bits. Ron Hicks took Glennis Lawrie home and Don McColl took Nancy King home. All of them are girls who have complained that the boys took no notice of them. Just goes to show that things will turn out all right in the end. Nice boys will always be attracted to nice girls.

19570324 Sunday –   I woke up to Mum, and breakfast in bed. Yum. When eventually I managed to crawl out of bed, I decided to wash my hair. Did I rush? As usual at the last minute, Beth and I were still asking each other’s advice about what we should wear whether to dress to suit the season or the temperature. We eventually dressed to suit the season. The reason? Well, we didn’t have anything else to wear anyway.

Bro Malcolm Wauchope exhorted this morning using Luke 16 as the basis for his talk. I sat next to Dad and Mum as usual but this time Ron Hicks was on the other side of me and also Keith Noble and Jeff Berry. Ron reminded me that I had some typing to do for him (which I had forgotten). I promised to get it to him in time for Sunday School. Brother Eagleton gave me an Essay to typewritten by the late Sister Cooper. I am going to be busy.

Charles is developing into quite a reckless driver. He is so impatient. He simply can’t wait for anything.That must sound strange coming from me. If I drive a car like I ride a bike, he wouldn’t have anything on me. We left for Sunday School at a quarter to three and consequently, we were going like mad. We stopped outside the Temple and I was out of the car almost before it stopped. I shoved the papers into Lew’s hands and asked him to give them to Ron and then tore back to the car before poor Lew knew what was happening.

We arrived at Woodvllle, late as usual and so did Deane Pitt. Deane and I sat together under Fay Wigzell’s watchful eye (she was playing the piano). The class is getting bigger and bigger and since I left Adelaide to go to Woodville, there have been an awful lot of Adelaidites who have transferred. There’s Jeff Berry and Keith Noble, Rosalie Foster, Dean Pitt, Judy and Robin Mansfield, Barbara Foulis etc. Halfway through the lesson, Uncle Perce told Rosalie Foster that he had finished the subject that she was doing the resume for and that someone else would have to continue from there.

I suggested that it was about time a boy did the resume and was going to suggest Jeff Berry and as he said afterward, he could “feel my thoughts boring into him.” However, Uncle Perce looked straight at Robin and though he tried to shrink out of sight he didn’t have a chance. So Robin’s doing the resume. Afterward, as I passed Robin I said sweetly, ”Dobbed you in, didn’t I Robin?” “Yes,” he grunted, “I ought to make you do it.” Uncle Perce told me that while he was searching around for a typewriter for himself he came across an Olivetti portable going for 25 pounds and in good condition. He told the owner that I might like it. Charles took me around to see it after Sunday Schol, but the man wasn’t home. I’ll have to ring him tomorrow.

We arrived early for the night meeting which was a change and out the front of the Temple there were two boys standing looking sort of lost, and I guessed they could be intending to go into the meeting. Jan Randell asked Jeff Berry to go across and speak to them and for a while, Jeff was surrounded by girls all trying to persuade him to do his good deed for the day. I decided to “steal his thunder” and while they were still debating about it I went over and spoke to the two boys. They said they came from Clare and were down on holiday. When Jeff saw me talking to the boys, he came over and stood beside me. The two boys were really hard to talk to, they just stood there and looked dumb. They told us that if they were to come into the meeting they would need to go back to their hotel and change into some decent clothes. It was pretty plain that they would leave and not return, and they didn’t.

After the meeting, Mum came up to me and said that one of my cousins, Len Dangerfield had been shot in a shooting accident. I didn’t even know that I had a cousin called Len Dangerfield, but it seems that Sister Dangerfield of Woodville is his mother. He was baptised but drifted away. He was sports-mad, like all of the Dangerfields. All the Dangerfield clan were talking about it after the meeting. Evidently, they all knew him. I really don’t know any of the Dangerfields that well.

I talked to Lew Osborne for a while. He says he still likes me. I do wish he would get over it. Why is it so very difficult to have boy “friends?” I talked to Rosalie Foster and then Jeff came up and cast one of his famous “looks” at Rosalie. I think he is a bit “struck” on her, though you never can tell with Jeff. He has a habit of looking that way at a girl just to make the others jealous. Half the girls are crazy over him. He teased me a bit about going over to the two boys and talking to them. Jeff has such an ego, but he’s doing a good job in the Truth.

I moved off after a while and went over to Nancy King and Lew Osborn, Dean Pitt, Brian Wigzell etc. Then Nancy told me that I was invited to go to an evening at Marge Wigzells place to see her trousseau. Then Dean piped up that I had to take a boy. This evidently took Nancy by surprise because she hadn’t told any of the girls she had invited that they had to bring boys and consequently, she was a bit worried that she’d have to go and invite each of the girls again and tell them to bring a boy.

I could see Lew looking at me hopefully. I’ll have to be careful not to give him any fresh hopes, though he would have been the easiest one for me to invite. I thought about asking Des Manser, but he was surrounded by all his girlfriends. I was still trying to decide who to ask by the time Dad came to take me home. Mum had got sick of waiting for me to decide on someone to go with and had decided that Des would do as my partner, so she went up to Des and told him that he would be taking me to the evening at Marge’s place. Des said, “Okay, I’ll go quietly without Bro O’Connor having to hit me over the head and drag me there.”

19570325 –  Late again this morning! It’s a wonder Mr Barrow doesn’t say something. I must be on time in future. I think I might have been on time only the bag on the back of my bike burst and my Bible, letter file, and diary were spread all over the road. Did I feel foolish!

Bob Wiltshire stopped me as I passed through the office this morning and said, “Hey did anyone tell you it was my birthday Saturday?” Then he asked me what I was going to do about his birthday. “Remember you promised me that on my birthday you would give me a kiss?” Seems he is going to hold me to my promise. He asked me if next Friday would do. I said, “Yes.”

Des Manser rang me this morning and we made arrangements for him to pick me up at 7.30 this evening to go to Marge Wigzell’s trousseau evening. He told me that his boss had been killed in a car accident. He crashed into a stationary PMG truck which was parked six feet from the curb. Poor Des, he liked his boss very much. When the first edition came out there on the front page was a write-up about Len Dangerfield’s death and also Des’ boss’ death.

Nancy King rang me up at about 6 o’clock and told me that she wouldn’t be going to Marge’s place because she had to work back. She was a bit upset about it. Of the eleven girls, Nancy had asked only three agreed to come. It is not too nice of them, I don’t think. I think they should have made an effort. My brother Graham said he would come to make up the numbers but I didn’t think he should since he hadn’t been invited. Des arrived about then and he talked to Mum and Dad for a while.

We were the first to arrive but they soon started rolling up. There were 18 young folk altogether so it turned out all right. Elaine Luke and Ray Frankham, Fay Wigzell and Dean Pitt, Des Manser and me, Malcolm and Betty Pitt, Bob and Maralyn Wearne, Bro and Sister Pitt, and of course, Marge and Norm Pitt. Marge has got the largest trousseau I have ever seen. It’s really beautiful. Betty Pitt is still the bright spark that she was before she was married and her children are lovely. The boys went out into the kitchen and played cards and generally fooled around while we looked at Marge’s box.

Des and I left first, and we arrived home at about 10.30.We parked for a while, 1 1/2 hours to be exact. For the first hour, we just talked about the conference, Neville Munro’s impending engagement to Margaret Johnson, things with Bob W and me at work, how much I liked him, etc. Then Des started to get a bit serious. I don’t know why he does, because I don’t think he’s keen on me and I’m not keen on him anymore. This is the second time now. The last time was at Port Elliott YF outing.

Once upon a time, not that very long ago, I would have been doing cartwheels for joy if Des had just looked sideways at me, but not now, and I feel sure it is the same for him, but I guess we both still just simply “like” each other on some level or other. It doesn’t seem to affect our normal relationship. We still talk and act as we always have, just good friends. I think he is attracted to me but not “keen” on me. It’s funny, I feel really guilty about Bob W. But I don’t feel at all guilty about Des, but then, Des has got no ties and is free to go with whomsoever he likes but Bob’s engaged, and he’s not a Christadelphian.

Beth was awake when I went in. She would have been keeping tabs on me I guess and I could feel her disapproval..

19570326 Tuesday –  I met Bruce Smith from Creasy & Bleaney on the way to work and rode to work with him. He thanked me for running off the invitations for him. He’s a very nice lad, plays baseball and tennis.

Late again! This is getting terrible. Bruce Smith came round to the News at about 10.00 this morning and I talked with him for a while. Mr Briton Jones made some more remarks about the way the agency boys were frequenting the office since I have been working here. He never misses a thing. Neither does Mr Barrow. Whenever Mr Barrow is in a good mood, he starts slinging off at me and “all my boyfriends,” and starts citing cases when he has seen me talking with this boy or that, and where he saw me doing it. Naturally, when he adds them all up since I have been here, it sounds as though I have a …whatever the masculine word is for a harem.

I had to do some work for Bob W today and he said, “Thanks, darling.” He said it unconsciously too. Things are getting bad. Then later today I had to do something else for him and he said, “Did I ever tell you that you’re a darling?”   I had intended to go to the baptisms tonight but I decided against it because I was so tired. I did my readings and some Bible marking, had a bath and brushed my hair and then fell into bed and slept more or less. I woke up at about 2 am with a dry mouth, so I ate an apple in bed. My jaw hurts and it is getting on my nerves.

19570327 Wednesday –  Bruce Smith came again today. Mr Barrow’s gout is really bad today. His temper is matching it, or as Mr Worthington puts it, he has “gout between the ears.” I went up to Stationery in my lunch hour but Mr Blundell was engaged, so I rang up Bob (not Bob W) instead and talked to him for a while. Bob is one of the office boys. Bob told me that Lenny had been lying as usual. We talked about the gun that Len and Bob took from Michael and how they had both just missed the sack by the skin of their teeth. Bob admits now, that he deserved to get the sack and that he was mad to take it. Len lied his way through the whole affair as usual and talked his way out of the sack at least.   Then Bob and I talked about the time we went swimming at the Weir on the Torrens and how that when I had gone to change in the toilets,

Lenny had followed me inside and came in when I was half-dressed. (I had my pants and bra on.) Evidently, Lenny spun a great yarn about that at work, and at the time most people believed him. This belief was furthered when I didn’t deny that Lenny had come in, because he did, but I didn’t know what other things he had said to them. Lenny’s more likely to ruin his own reputation than mine.

Brian Manser came from the Advertiser at about 4.30 and reminded me of the singing practice that night at the Temple for the Conference. Uncle Perce looked really ill tonight, but he still led the class. We finished the 16th Chapter of Genesis, following the allegory through, and then he showed us how to come to the correct meaning of a difficult passage in the Bible, using our concordances. Every time I looked up from writing I saw that Robin Mansfield was looking at me. Afterward, I talked to Aunty Ivy Thompson for a while, then to Dean Pitt, then to Jan Randell, Robin, and Peter Mansfield, and also Bob Martin. Robin says he is going to make me help him with his resume since I dobbed him in for it.

19570328 –  As soon as I arrived at work, I rang Mr Hinton before I forgot. The typewriter has a tab, so that seems all right. 25 pounds is all right too. I then rang “Control Systems” and asked them if the Olivetti of 18 months ago was much different to the new Olivetti. It isn’t. I then asked what would be a reasonable price to pay for one, $25, and that’s just what I will be paying if I buy it, so that’s good too. All it has to be now is jolly good.

“Nigger Hocking” is being married Saturday. I went over to Publishing to congratulate him and he repeated the usual, “If I was 10 years younger, it would be you I would be marrying,” depending on whether I was agreeable of course. I’m glad he’s getting married. He is a very nice man. Stan was watching me talk to him and looking jealous as usual. He’s been like that ever since I stopped going to the beach with him. He’s being the exact opposite to what he was before I told him that “I liked him but nothing more than that.” When I told him that I had been going out with Trevor Griggs he was really mad. I explained to him that he had no claim on me as I had always told him he was way too old for me (29) and that I only wanted to be friends anyway. That didn’t make him any happier. I also said that even if I had been interested in him he would have lost me to someone else because he “was as slow as a wet week,” and while he was making up his mind, someone else would have stepped in and taken me right from under his nose. I told him this to give him a bit of a “wake up” because Trevor Griggs had told me that there had previously been a girl who was crazy over Stan, but while Stan was making up his mind, another man stepped in and married the girl. Trevor Griggs passed my office this morning and stopped at the door, looked me up and down, grinned in his most “cynical and non-endearing” way, and said,” Hello, Stinky,” which I found most irritating and annoying.

Mr Bill Briton Jones heard our conversation and raised an eyebrow questioningly. I said, “Yes, that’s him,” and he replied “Oh.,” and I said, “He’s the Manager of Newspaper Distributors and he’s aged about 37 years, definitely too old for me.” Mr Bill Briton Jones sent me to Mr Bob Britton Jones’s desk to get some blocks and as usual Bob Wiltshire was sitting just a few yards away. Bruce Smith came in for a chat and then Bob dictated a letter to me and put his arm around me while he did so. After work I talked to Stan Dixon for a while and just as I was leaving, I saw Bro Hicks standing across the road at the garage, waiting to drive Mr Barrow home. I talked with him for a while until Mr Barrow came.

19570329 Friday –   Well, it is over, I hope for good. Bob and I arranged to meet after work, between 5.00 and 5.30. Not long. He had his car parked up near West Terrace and so he walked up to it on the dot of 5.00 and I left about 5 past. I then followed him to Memorial Drive and he parked and I leaned my bike against a gum tree and walked over to his car. What gruesome details, for a sister in Christ, it’s a pretty low thing to do to be meeting with another girl’s fiancé like this.   Bob opened the door for me and I slid into the seat next to him. Then I fulfilled my promise and we kissed. Promise! It would have happened if I had made a promise or not.

Five, or ten minutes passed, and then Bob suddenly said, “You know, Fay, I’m no lady killer.” I asked him what he meant and he told me that although he had been putting on a bold front, he had been as nervous as could be about meeting me today. That makes two of us! Poor Bob I think he must like me pretty much to be doing this, just the same as I have to like him pretty much for me to be doing it too. I wish I hadn’t let all this happen. I wish there was a chance for him to become a Christadelphian, but while I carry on the way I am, there’s not much chance of that happening. He kissed me again and I put my hand on his cheek. He was as hot and flushed as could be. My hand must have felt cool on his cheek because he said, “You’ve got me all flustered, my face is burning, I must look like a beetroot.” I could tell that even though he is engaged to be married and has been going with his fiancé for three years, he’s still pretty inexperienced. We both are, which of course, is how it should be, and I shouldn’t be the one to change that either.

Just to make me feel even worse, it was just at that moment that I looked out of the car window and saw Elaine Luke pass by in her car. What are the chances of that happening? She saw me, looked surprised, and waved. I think she must be God’s angel, letting me know that I should not be here and that what I am doing is wrong.   At half past, it was time for Bob to go. He kissed me one last time and I got out of the car and got on my bike and rode away as fast as I could. That’s that! I thought, and then I thought about his fiance and I hated myself. This has to be, must be, the finish of it.

19570330 Saturday – Saturday morning and I was up at 7.00. I cleaned my bike and my sandshoes and washed my tennis frock and white socks. I got mum to make a petticoat to go underneath my dress and she had it ready forme for tennis in the afternoon. My tennis has gone back very badly. The first match I played woefully. The second and I didn’t play too badly, so I won that set, but my service is hopeless. My timing is all out. When I throw the ball in the air and then swing my racquet and then put my weight onto my left foot and then hit the ball, then my timing is all wrong and I can’t seem to get it right.

When I just let my instincts take over I do well but when I concentrate my mind, I don’t do so well, I wonder why that is? I should have gone to tennis this year! Still, I enjoyed swimming instead of tennis. Lew was there at the tennis courts, and he didn’t seem to hold anything against me. He is good like that, he still asks my advice and talks to me. But nonetheless, he is still acting a bit funny though, but at least he doesn’t ask to take me home every time now and that’s a relief. I think he would have liked to talk to me about something today, but didn’t because Dawn Lawrie was there and he is taking her around at the moment since I told him that she likes him.

Mum and I went through my clothes tonight and practically everything I possess needs something done to it. It’s terrible.

19570331 Sunday –   Ern Wilson gave the exhort this morning and he was extremely good, the best I think I have heard him. The MacLean twins’ birthday party up at Waikerie has certainly made a hole in the Young Folks today. The whole row to the right of me was bare and usually, it is full up. Gordon Eagleton asked me if I had finished the typing I was doing for him. I haven’t! Have to post it to him during the week.

Sunday School this afternoon, Jeff turned up though neither Jeff or Keith were at the morning meeting. Uncle Perce was not at Sunday School, he is resting before the night lecture. He’s still pretty sick. Cleon Wigzell took the class and we continued with “Anastasis.” I chatted with Robin Mansfield after Sunday School.

195704 –   Today I received a Letter from Merritta Spencer. She wrote “that information you received about a certain John Stewart was the result of the Hurstville Christmas party. They had a scavenger hunt and when they had one of those, every girl gets her handbag contents emptied out for the game and I had your snapshot still in my handbag and this John Stewart saw it and wanted to know who the girl in the photo was. Anyway, in case you are interested, he turned 21 last August. He is a little taller than me when I am in my high heels (and I’m tall as you know). He has a shock of thick black hair and isn’t bad-looking, but that’s all I know. You would have to find anything more out yourself.

Beth Hillhouse mentioned your party to me when she rang from Sydney on the way home to Newcastle. Keep up the teasing of Des Manser. I am looking forward to the conference. I saw Fay Kenworthy off to Canada on the Oronsay the other day, and Lyn and I ran the social and it was a rowdy shambles, so they all enjoyed it. I passed my subjects for my Degree. Barry Brown went to Adelaide, Neville Munro takes Adelaide girls too seriously. Jan King (Toowoomba) and Evan Leopard are engaged. Kathy Vida (Lakemba) and Ken Kirkwood (Hurstville) are hitched. Rex Winter is still strong with Val Kirwood. Judy Bonner going with Don Lowe (Leura Blue Mountains), me NOBODY. Love em all and marry none. Lyn’s been to the Dentist and her face is all swollen up.”

19570401 Monday –  I woke up to a bright enlivening morning, closed my eyes hurriedly, and put my head under my pillow. Shortly after, I peeped out again and groaned – morning already. I contemplated a day off, savouring the thought for a while, but eventually, my conscience did its work and I slowly began to get dressed. I wonder just how long a person can go without any early nights and still manage to turn up at work each morning.   When I arrived at work, I went out to sign on and just then, Bob arrived and went to his desk. He looked at me, and I looked at him, our eyes met…we didn’t speak.

In the lunch hour, I went to John Martins to get some material. I saw some material in a beautiful blue, a new type of material out, brushed rayon. It’s beautiful. I bought some, wonder if I can get it made up in time for the conference.  It was Jenny Meyer’s and Len Munichinberg’s kitchen evening tonight and after half an hour’s indecision, I decided to go. I wore my white bridesmaid frock. There were none of the older crowd there but strangely enough, I didn’t miss them. They had musical numbers first and during those, I chatted a bit with the Munchenbergs. They are Len’s family and they are not baptised. Apparently, they live near us in Robsart Street. One of the boys went to Unley High School and I remember him from there, but I didn’t know the other members of the family previously. Brian Briggs took me for Musical Hearts and we came out second. I enjoyed the evening and talked to Roy Munchinberg for a time afterward.

19570407 Sunday –  I woke at 7.00 am this morning and actually got up at that unearthly hour! I had my shower, dressed and was ready for the meeting hours before the time. It felt good. Fancy, no rush or tear, but everything done in a leisurely fashion and with plenty of time to spare. I really enjoyed the morning meeting. Lindsay Colquhoun spoke. I talked to Max Kennett and Rosalie Foster after the meeting. It seems that Maxy still likes Rosalie. Uncle Perce wasn’t at Sunday School today because his doctor has ordered him away for a rest for two days. Fancy, two days, he needs to go away for two months. My brother Graham came along to Sunday School today. At first, I thought he might be coming along for good, but that proved to be vain thinking. He evidently came along because Uncle Perce said he wanted to see him. He’s a foolish boy, if only he would get some sense and lose some of his pride and maybe take the Truth seriously.

Cleon Wigzell took the class. He did a good job but HPM is a hard act to follow. It would be hard for him trying to take Uncle Perce’s place. The night meeting was the final of the special series of lectures. Keith Provis spoke. He was okay, but I thought too much showmanship and not enough information. It was a beautiful subject though, Peace after Armageddon. I spoke to Lew Osborne, Ron Hicks, Judith Mansfield, Judith Vinall after the meeting. Lew seems to be getting on really well with Dawn Lawrie so I am very happy about that. He needs a girlfriend – one that’s not me. Ron and I seem to do a lot of joshing around when we talk, we never seem to be able to be serious. Claudia Muggleton came up to me a bit later and said “Who were you sitting next to after Sunday School?” She was referring to Robin Mansfield. She says she thinks he likes me.  After Sunday School Charles drove us down to Joan and Graeme Mansfield’s new shop. Graeme didn’t know we were coming there and he kicked up a fuss because he had some urgent photos to do. Charles should have told him he was coming. Graeme can be so bad-tempered when he wants to, but then he has so many late nights and I don’t think he is very well. We drove Jeff Berry home then went home ourselves.

19570407 –  Letter to Merritta Spencer, Fairfield, Sydney NSW. I told Merritta that “Conference fever” has got everyone over here. Everyone is racing around asking advice and giving it. I wrote Merritta that I needed somewhere to stay in Sydney and asked if I could stay with her family for two days after the conference. I told her I was buying an Olivetti typewriter and taking it with me to the conference. I asked Merritta if she had managed to meet the “blue-eyed blonde boy” she had been looking for yet. I told her that Des Manser hadn’t been able to find one for her yet, but he was still looking and that Jeff Berry and Keith Noble are not going to the conference..

19570408 Monday – Have my new typewriter, Olivetti Lettera 22, Bodoni type. Wonderful! Bill Briton-Jones’ wife got it for me from Myers where she works. I went to singing after work. Doing Anthem 47 and 49 for the conference. Des Manser was there. If I had known he was going to be there he could have taken me instead of Eric Grogan. Des read the report on the pamphlet distributions. Jeff Berry is taking on a lot of Gospel Extension work. I talked to Eric Grogan, Don McColl. HPM to do a series of special lectures, and I hope he is well enough. Dad’s not too happy Charles going to Sydney.

19570410 – I received a letter from Barrie Spencer. He has arrived home at his house, really tired and he has slept a lot.

19570410 Wednesday –  I had to go to work by bus again today and as a result, I was late again. I met one of the Munchinberg boys at the bus stop. I don’t know which one he was, the youngest one I think. It’s Flower day today and I was supposed to get to work an hour earlier. Almost impossible for me I am afraid. Joan had finished everything when I arrived and the place looked lovely. Brother Timmas came in this afternoon, looking for a job. Mr Barrow saw him and took his name and said that there might be something in the next month or so, but there’s nothing at the moment. Then I took him to Mr Emery who said about the same thing.

The last I saw of him was when he was going over to Jack Fisher who is a Christadelphian to see if there was anything there. Jack is a relative of Julia Smith, and he is Rupert Murdoch’s assistant. He spends his whole time running around after Mr Murdoch, fetching and carrying for him. Rupert always seems to have a veritable tribe of people following in his wake wherever he goes.  I got myself into a nice mess today. I went to the Temple after work to get my bike and after I had taken it out of the Temple yard, I put the keys into my pocket and forgot all about them, consequently, no one could get into the Bible Class that evening. I only realized it when I put my hand into my coat pocket when I was getting ready for the Abraham Class. We rushed back to the hall with the keys, but by that time, they had found another key.   Uncle Perce Mansfield was at the Abraham class, looking a bit better, but not much. Instead of continuing with our usual study, he continued with 1 Cor. 15 verse 29. “Why are we then baptised on behalf of the dead.” We followed that through with the use of a concordance. It was very interesting.

Jan Randell and I are still making arrangements for the Conference. I have to book in at the Canberra, Sydney and Brisbane. Hope I remember. I talked to Robin and Peter Mansfield after and Charlie got into a conversation with Uncle Perce so we didn’t leave straight away as we intended. I asked Bob Martin how Rosalie Foster was and he replied, “She’s beautiful.” Not exactly an answer to my question, but it certainly expressed his point of view.

Robin is not as shy as Peter, but they are both fairly shy. Sometimes they talk without any self-consciousness and other times you can hardly get two words out of them.

Continue Reading . . . Volume 1 – Chapter 30