The Blacksmith’s Daughter by Fay Berry 2013 © - Chapter 42 - 1957 11 07 - Fay Berry

The Blacksmith’s Daughter – Chapter 42

Early in November 1957, My bridesmaid dress for my brother Charles’ wedding was completed and I was very happy with it.

Keith Noble was still not well and I tried so hard to cheer him up. He wanted so badly to come with all the young people to Melbourne for the Messiah weekend but it was impossible because he was so sick. I tried to cheer him up and promised I would write him a great long letter telling him everything that happened while we were away. I did write him a long letter but did not tell him EVERYTHING that happened, but a great deal did happen as the saga between Jeff and I continued.

My birthday came and went pretty well unnoticed by my whole family. There was no birthday party for me this year. The reason was that we were leaving to drive to Sydney for my brother Charles’ wedding the day after my birthday and so we were all busy packing on my birthday. To make it worse, we were in the middle of a heat wave and there were bush fires raging all the way up the coast it seemed.

The trip was a nightmare and at Benalla, I jumped into the river in my clothes to cool down because it was so hot. Beth and I spent one night sleeping on the steps of the Shepparton Post Office because we could not get accommodation anywhere. Still, we got there in the end without mishap which was the main thing. I stayed in Sydney with Val and Gill Swan and their twin boys while Mum and Dad stayed at the Deversons.

Charles and Beth went out fighting bushfires prior to the wedding, which is not what a bride and groom are normally expected to do, but then, that is Australia for you.

The locals all gave me a wonderful time and we spent a wonderful day at the National Park swimming in the river there. I had a crash course in looking after Val and Gill’s two-year-old twin boys which certainly was an experience for me.

DIARY ENTRIES

19571107 Letter to Miss M Paterson (my dressmaker). Dear Miss Paterson, Please find enclosed the sum of five pounds nine shillings for the bridesmaid frock you have just finished making for me. I am very satisfied with it and I only wish I didn’t have to wait until the wedding to wear it, Thank you so much.

Fay O’Connor

19571108 Letter to Barbara Foulis. – 19571108 Letter to Barbara Foulis. – Dear Barbara, Enclosed is your essay on Jezebel which I borrowed from you at last Woodville Young Folks. Ruth Eakins wanted a copy of it to send to…. (I don’t remember her name). I’m posting this to you in case I forget to give it to you. See you soon Love – Fay O ‘Connor

19571101 – Letter to Jean and Maynard from the Deversons – Bert Devrson is expecting Dad to arrive on 27th November 1957 in Sydney.

19571105 – Letter to Keith Noble – Dear Keith. – From the telegram Jeff showed us last night at his 21st I understand that you are not feeling the best, so in between my boss’ screams, the Manager’s complaints about his gout and the usual annoyances of of office life, I’ll endeavor to write you a letter and hope that I can cheer you up a bit.

19571116 Letter to Keith Noble- from the Federal Hotel Melbourne – Messiah weekend. Dear Keith, I’ve got a few moments to spare before we go out this afternoon so I’m writing you a letter to give you a few clues about the happenings to date, here in Melbourne. We left Adelaide station without mishap, and very soon had all settled down, more or less, into our seats. We had the lay back ones and they were fairly comfortable. I sat next to Jan Randall, and so for us began a really wonderful evening. We talked for a while, ate some fruit, and talked some more. Then we did the readings and had some rather interesting discussions about a few points brought out by the night’s readings. I had some shorthand notes with me that I had taken the other night at our place when Charlie led us in the study of Philippians. Dad, Mum, Roma, Maynard, Beth, Charles and myself are starting on this study at home and it promises to be as good as the Colossians study we had previously. I read my notes to Jan and explained some of the points that we’d found interesting.

After that, Jan and I went for a walk. We left our carriage and went into the next one – a first-class carriage. There were hardly any people in it so we walked through and seated ourselves up at the front. We put the seats back and made ourselves comfortable. It was really peaceful, restful, and thoroughly comfortable. We talked and talked for about 2 hours and had just decided to get our blankets and spend the nigh there, when the conductor came through, much to our chagrin. He looked at us, and then looked again, while we tried to look innocent. He knew my face, however, because I had already laughed and joked with him when we had been the the second-class carriages.

He asked us if we were out of our places and then quickly bundled us off to where we belonged. Still, it was fun while it lasted. By the time we had arrived back at our second-class seats, it was time for the lights to be put out. We made ourselves ready for the night, putting cases out of the road and piling on the blankets. I slept pretty well, considering. I’ve learned from the other times I have gone to Melbourne by train, that it’s best to sleep for a while, then walk around a bit and then go back to sleep again. I felt quite bright in the morning.

When I woke up finally, Lew was there evidently they’d opened the door between the carriages. We talked for a while and then he moved on and I closed my eyes again. The next time I opened them, Jeff was there. Jan and I decided the night must be over and got up. We returned Jeff and Lew’s visit and went up to their carriage to say, “Hello” to John Knowles and Phyl Matthews. I sat in Dawn Lawrey’s seat and talked to them all for a while. Then Jeff came back and sat next to me, and described the horrors of the night to me in gruesome detail. Seems as though their carriage had quite an eventful night. We all got off at Ballarat, but I couldn’t eat any breakfast, and for that matter, I haven’t had any lunch yet either. After Ballarat, Jan and I returned to our seats and did the readings. Lew has just come in with John Henry, and they both send you, Keith, their regards). Continued 6.30 Sunday night. I’ve just been dropped off at the Federal and as the others haven’t returned yet, I’ll see if I can finish this letter.

After we’d done the readings, we sat and talked until we were nearing Melbourne. As we were passing through the North Melbourne station, Judy Vinall told me we had arrived and I almost left the train right there. Comes through taking the word of other people without due consideration, (and a glance out of the window maybe). When we finally arrived, we piled out and greeted the Melbourne crew. It was great seeing them all again. We then gathered up our luggage and started to walk to the Federal. David Kennett rolled up in his car and relieved us of our luggage and we walked on to the Hotel. When we arrived, there was a bit of bother about our reservations. The people who were in our rooms hadn’t yet vacated them. We managed to get fixed up at last and Jan, Carlene Bartsch and I went for a walk up Collins Street and got blown to pieces by the wind and the dust. The Sydney train was due in at 11.30 so we wandered back to the station after we had looked around a bit.

We were sitting waiting for the train when a lad walked past us. He looked awfully like a boy I had met in Melbourne last year, Ian Galbraith. It wasn’t remarkable, because it was Ian Galbraith. He walked past us twice then decided he knew me and came up and shook hands. We talked for a while and then three other young men came up. The next was Peter McKinlay whose place I stayed at last year. He told me he was meeting a Sydney girl, “a Gwenda ,,,,,?” He then realised that he couldn’t remember her name. Of course, he couldn’t meet her without knowing her name, so he wizzed off to ring his mother to find out her name. But the train was due any minute, and then Ian remembered her name and he tore off to intercept Peter. By this time the train was in, and we set off to find the “Christadelphian” carriage. We traveled from one end of the train to the other but couldn’t find them. Then Peter and Ian came running up and told us they were at the other end of the train. We found them at last and then began the period of renewing of old friendships. I love traveling interstate.

Jan Randall, Carlene Bartsch, and myself walked back to the Hotel. Just as we arrived they paged for me and it was Ken Niejalke on the phone. He told me that he had to work and would therefore not be able to meet me for lunch but would call at 1.45. That suited us. Carlene and John went with Ken Niejalke in his car and Lewis Osborne, Jan, and I went in Ken Morgan’s car. We decided to go to Warrandyte where Ken Morgan and Peter McKinlay had taken me last year. It’s a lovely spot at the top of the Yarra. We didn’t go swimming this time, however. Ken’s car played up a bit but it got us there, just. We called in at Peter McKinlay’s place – they’ve got a new home since I was there last, and it’s an absolute mansion. It has everything, even servants’ quarters.

We had a milkshake in Warrandyte and then went for a walk. We had quite a discussion on a few points from the Bible – in fact, we spent most of our time talking on the Truth. We returned to the Federal at last and then changed for the “Messiah.” We called around at Ken Morgan’s place and he changed his clothes there. We met his mother and father again. They came to our place during the Conference in Adelaide. When we had all changed, the others went up to watch TV and I started this letter. We then went in the cars to the “Victoria” Hotel to pick up John Henry and then on to the hall to have dinner. Once again, I met tons of the people that I already knew and tons that I hadn’t met before. I found myself sitting back to back with Judith McKinlay and Janet Mainsbridge (guilty conscience there, I was supposed to write to them both and haven’t. They very pointedly gave me their addresses again.)

After the meal, Jan Mainsbridge and Ken Morgan disappeared (little chuckle) and we didn’t hinder them. It was starting to rain so everyone took shelter and cars picked us up to take us to the hall for the Messiah. Carlene Bartsch, Lewis Osborne, and myself went in Ken Niejalke’s car to the Wilson Hall in the University grounds. The hall was fabulous. The whole of one wall was practically all glass – you could see the stars in the sky outside. Once again I met more people. Bill Boyd, my red-headed guitar-playing, ballad-singing Scotsman from the Southport Youth Conference was there and as usual, he had me laughing. I had to apologise again for not writing to him. I’m terrible! Barry Williams and his girlfriend, Wendy Waite came up. They were Charlie’s friends in Sydney – they live in Melbourne now.

Carlene passed me then and told me she would save me a seat upstairs. I went up later with Peter McKinlay and we stayed up there until it was time for him to go down. He was singing in the Messiah. I went down below again and got into a conversation with Stan Mansfield and after that, it was time to take our seats. When I got up there, however, I found that Stan was sitting in the seat in front of the one Ken and Carlene had saved for me, so I sat next to Stan instead. We talked about the Logos and the Heralds etc. And the work involved in the printing. Then the Messiah started. It was wonderful! Every now and then when the music got a bit stirring, Stan would burst out singing under his breath. At intervals, he turned to me and told me that he’d just managed to work out what the significance of the mural on the wall was.

The mural was of a man standing knee-deep in a morass with his arms stretched upward in supplication through the clouds, grasping for the sun. On the right was an angel (complete with wings) with a wreath in her hand. Stan said it represented man striving for knowledge or salvation, ever striving, through the ties of the world, houses, land etc, which pulled him back. Stan explained all this in a serious voice. Then he said, “That’s his wife on the right, with a hammer in her hand, ready to knock him back to earth if he gets too many high ideas in his head. I laughed. Stan is such a comedian. Well, the person who designed the mural might not be too pleased with the latter half of his interpretation of the mural

Sister Spears who was supposed to take the Soprano lead had an appendicitus attack a few hours before the Messiah was to take place and they had to fly Sister Mobbs over from Sydney to take her place. Sister Mobbs did a wonderful job, considering that she had not practiced for the presentation. Phil Wilson’s voice went on him in one place and he had to stop singing for a minute. After the Messiah, I went downstairs and got talking to the Sydney crowd. Then Jan Randall and Ken Niejalke appeared again and took Lewis Osborne, John Knowles and myself back to the Hotel. We passed Wendy Jolly and Jeff on the way. Ken beeped the horn. Lew Osborne decided that he wanted to go to St Kilda. He also was rather angry with me for some reason or other and I wasn’t sure why, but I wasn’t in the mood for an argument, so I got them to drop me at the Hotel and they went on to St Kilda. Lew said “She knows she’s going to get a lecture from me,lthat’s why she’s not coming.” How true!

I went up to my room and there at the door were Carlene and Ken Morgan. I talked to them for a while and we all went for a wander around the corridors. Then I cooked up some excuse and walked away and left them to it. I guessed that although they would generally appreciate my company, I knew they would wish it elsewhere right at this moment. A man walked past me just then and stopped. He was stone drunk and he asked me if I had seen his wife. I looked around, decided which direction I wanted to go in, and sent him in the other. Somehow I met with Ken Morgan and Carlene Bartsch again and then Wendy and Jeff arrived. Jeff took Wendy to her room and then disappeared again.

I was wandering aimlessly when John Knowles banged into me. He asked me what I was doing and I told him, “Nothing.” He asked me to ask Carlene and Ken for the key and leave them to it because then I would be able to get to bed. I did so, though I felt a bit mean, walking up on them unheralded. Just after I had settled myself in the room, the phone rang. It was Jeff, “checking up on the members of room 535.” He told me that Ken Morgan and Carlene had been seen wandering in the vicinity of floor 6 but there was no sign of Jan Randall and Lewis Osborne. I told him where they were as I was too polite to tell him to mind his own business, then I hung up and started to change for bed.

There were whispers outside the door and the key rattled. I groaned. 5 minutes later there were more whispers, more key rattling, then more giggles. I got sick of it, but didn’t do anything, but continued to undress. If Ken Morgan decided to open the door without knocking, I was sure he’d get a bigger shock than I would. When I finally got into bed, the two decided to break it up, and Carlene came in. Jan Randall hadn’t arrived back yet, and we found out the next day that their car had broken down (that’s an old one). Lewis Osborne had fixed it though and of course, by the time Ken Niejalke had dropped them off and then gone for another drive with Jan Randall, well, I was well and truly asleep before she came in. She won’t disclosed what time it was when she did eventually arrive back at the Hotel. When I teased her next day, she just reminded me of Brisbane, when at two o’clock in the morning I was just finishing a stroll home with two of the Brisbane boys from a social. Isn’t that called “double jeopardy.” Well, one cancels out the other anyway.

The next morning, Sunday, we were woken up bright and early by, of all people, Jan Randall. We had showers and I washed my hair and then we wandered down to breakfast. Somehow we weren’t very hungry and none of us ate much. The food wasn’t anything to rave about either. We warned Wendy Jolly and Phyllis Matthews what not to have when they arrived a little later. After breakfast, we took two taxis and went to Malvern Hall for the morning meeting. Lew still looked as though he was going to attempt to lecture me so I did the vanishing trick again. I went into the hall and got talking with one of Uncle Perce’s cousins. Then Esther Kenny came up. She was in the study group that I was in at Southport in Qld when we discussed prayer. She came up with some excellent thoughts on the subject. She’s a lovely girl and she has become a good friend of mine. I sat down at the front with her, her mother, Father, and brother. I persuaded her to ring up the Hostel where she boards and cancel her lunch and have lunch with me. We went down the street to find a phone and after that, we were joined by another girl. I forget her name but she went with Colin Hill at the Southport Youth Conference. Colin was the Conference Secretary at the Southport Conference.

We bought some dinner and then went back to the hall to eat it. I didn’t take any sandwiches, so I went around and cadged some more edible stuff from those around me. Someone gave me a bottle of milk, so Esther and I went off to get some glasses from the kitchen to drink it from. I met Ken Niejalke in the kitchen and asked him to arrange with the young people to take Esther and me for a drive. He did and then began a small controversy among the Melbourne Young People to decide where would be the best place to take us. I left them to it then and went around hall saying “Hello” to people I’d met and those I hadn’t.

I got talking to Norma Bastock and gave her an invitation to stay at our place when she comes with the others from Sydney to Adelaide in January. Eventually, Ken Niejalke called me and told me the arrangements for the afternoon. I was to go in Ken Morgan’s car with Ken Niejalke and Karl ‘someone or other’ and Esther Kenny. I sat in front with Karl and Jan Randall sat in the back with Ken. We couldn’t find Esther for a while, but then we did. Just as we had started off, Ian Galbraith came tearing up and asked us if we had room for one more. Then Gwenda, the girl staying at Peter McKinlay’s place piled in. We drove in the direction of the Dandenongs but eventually decided not to go where the others were going, but to go to Sherbrook Forest instead

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A little boy, about six, handed us a battered ticket through the window, and though we were doubtful about the authenticity of that battered ticket, we gave the kid a shilling. Then we walked up the path towards the waterfall and the trees were so beautiful. Great tall things with ferns galore and creepers. Not like Brisbane National Park though, but SA hasn’t got anything to match it, that’s for sure. We lost Jan and Ken Niejalke very shortly, but we didn’t bother to look for them. We talked a lot about the truth and the Melbourne young people and the Adelaide young people. Karl evidently was a bit of a bodgie who has realised the power of the Truth and is trying to change his ways. He’s nice, I like him. Gwenda had to catch a train at 6.30 to get back to Sydney so we left fairly early. We were passing through a small town and Karl pointed out two small houses, two Christadelphian homes that comprise the ecclesia in that town.

As we were passing along a main road, I saw Lewis Osborne and Nancy King. Then we saw Ken Morgan and Carlene Bartsch. We stopped. Lew and Nancy told us that there had been a brawl in the Cafeteria they had just been in and some characters had been tossed out. I asked whether it was them! We drove back to the hall, and then I went to see Esther Kenny off back to her hostel. We talked until the train came and she promised to stay at our place if she ever came over. Then I went back to the Hall. Jan and Ken had gone, leaving a message with Norma Bastock that they had my bible and hymn book. As they were still in my bag, I wondered just whose property they had actually filched. Sister Mullins, a Sister I’d never met before, called me over and gave me a cup of tea. It turned out that she lives at Box Hill and has Ken Niejalke boarding at her place and has read all my letters to him. She was most pleased that Ken Niejalke and Ken Morgan had got girlfriends, because she said that they were both related to just about everyone in Melbourne, so there was not much scope for girlfriends for them in Melbourne. They had both been getting a little discontented. I took all the credit for it of course, because it had been because I had got the two Kens to take us driving that they had met up with Carlene and Jan Randall. Ahem!

Brother Mullins asked me if I’d like a ride back to my Hotel. I liked! I went around scrounging again and I got some pineapple from one place and some cake from another. I enjoyed myself immensely. I had a talk with Norma Bastock again and to a young Sydney couple. Then it was time to go. Sister Mullins acted as my mother often does. I was making last goodbyes to people and exchanging addresses and Sister Mullin came and dragged me away. Judy McKinlay and Ian Galbraith look as though they are going to start going together again. They took me to Warrandyte with the others last year and they were going together then, but it’s been off and on ever since, so Barry Williams told me. Brother Mullins gave me an invitation to stay at their place if I go over again. I’ll be back in Melbourne in about three weeks probably. They dropped me at the Hotel and I got my luggage out of dock and then sat down to write some more of this letter. I hope you appreciate all the consistent effort I am putting into getting this letter written, Keith? Then Jeff Berry and Wendy Jolly returned from a tour of the Public Library and the Museum. The Museum must have been crazy to let two such good specimens (I won’t say what of) out of their clutches.

We talked for a while and then they went up to watch TV and I continued to write. Then John Knowles and Phyl Matthews came back. They said they were going into the dining room to have dinner. They came back in a few minutes however and told me that they’d gone in, sat down, looked at the menu, found that it would cost 15/- each and rapidly got up and made a quick exit. I told them there was a cafeteria in Spencer Street, just around the corner that had good food and was pretty cheap. They went to find it. We got a taxi to the station when they returned and then we found that we would not have the lay-back seats this time, but would have the “dog boxes.” I didn’t mind because I think they are more fun.

I met another lad, just before we left. I had played tennis with him at the Southport Conference. He has asked me to come to his place for dinner if I have a few days in Melbourne on the way back from Sydney after my brother’s wedding. We were off at last, leaving more friends behind than we did last time. I hate saying “Goodbye” to people. There was a small drama in the passage on the way. Judith Vinall was crying over Allan Hawkins who she went with in Brisbane. Looked like that romance had failed. I had a look around for empty seats in the other carriages and found one with only a man and his little daughter in it. I whizzed in and asked him if he minded if I sat there for a while. Then I got talking to him and found out that he came from Woodville. I went out my my way to get to know him and from there, it wasn’t hard to ask him if I could appropriate the spare seat for the trip to Adelaide. I therefore was quite comfortable for the night with a seat to myself.

I left for a while and strolled around and surveyed the scenery in the other carriages. Everyone was pretty crowded up. I doubted if anyone would sleep. Everybody tore around for ages, swapping seats etc. I wrote a bit more of this letter. One window in the compartment had clear glass and people kept coming in to say “Hello,” so I thought I’d like a little peace for a while, so I hung my rug over the window, and then only those who were tall enough to see through the top window called in from then on. I had rather a peaceful trip home. We stopped at Ballarat for supper, but I wasn’t hungry. We stopped for breakfast at Murray Bridge – I still wasn’t hungry. Later in the morning, everyone converged on one of the compartments and they all sang songs. Oh, and, Jeff had Marg Watson on his lap – what do you make of that Keith? Does one and one make two? Or three?

Well, that’s about all, except that Mum met me and we took a taxi home and I arrived two hours late for work and then went around like something the cat had dragged in the for the rest of the day.
Well, this is a summary!! Of what happened over the weekend. Naturally, I’m not at liberty to write about certain happenings which are of a private nature, and of which you, I am sure, would be most interested, but you can let your imagination fill in perceived gaps in my story, Mr Curiosity Noble.

19571108 Letter to Keith Noble.

19571108 Letter to Ruth Eakins

19571111 Letter to Keith Noble.

19571112 Letter to Ken Niejalke

19571128 Card from Nancy King for Fay’s Birthday

19571128 Thursday – My Birthday. Beth was the only one who remembered to wish me a happy birthday this morning. Mum remembered later and tried to pretend that she hadn’t forgotten. Well, at least I won’t worry so much if ever I forget anyone‘s birthday in the future. We spent the morning packing ready for our trip to Sydney for Charlie’s wedding which is on the 7th December. At about about 11 o’clock I went to the News to get some paper punched. Mr Blundell welcomed me as he always does and Stan Dixon helped me punch the paper. While I was in the Stationery Office Joan and the new girl who is to take my place when I leave The News walked in. Joan introduced us and as I had expected the girl came from Unley High and had been in the same year as me last year. Just as we were in the middle of a very enjoyable conversation, Mr Barrow walked by. I smiled, and he glared. He gave Joan a look which said, “Get back to the office – fast! Joan disappeared! She can have Mr Barrow all to herself. Mr Blundell gave me some quarto paper for my birthday and Alf took me upstairs and gave me a milkshake. Then I went around to Sands & Macdougall and bought a new ring folder for my diary and one for my Revelation notes. See if I can get some reading done on that to keep abreast of His Highness, Mr Jeff Berry!

In the afternoon, although I felt like going to sleep, I went to Noble’s for tea. I’d promised them I’d go out to see them before I left so I had to keep my promise. When I arrived, they had a visitor, a woman from Broken Hill. If she was a product of Broken Hill, well, I never want to go to Broken Hill. She just about gave the life history of each member of that dusty little town. The number of people of her acquaintances who have either committed suicide or been tossed into prison was quite remarkable. I don’t blame them really. She’d have that effect upon anyone, I should say.

Ron has finished his exams and seems to think he’s done all right.

19571128 Card from Jan Randall for Fay’s birthday

19571129 Friday – No sooner had we gone to bed or so it seemed and it was three o ‘clock in the morning and time to get up again. I was so sleepy I had to have a shower to wake myself up but even that made me more sleepy.

After some thought, I put on shorts and a shirt because it looked as though it would be too hot for anything else. It certainly was! Right now, we are somewhere near Keith and we have stopped by the side of the road because Charlie’s radiator is boiling like mad. Charles and Beth must be exhausted because they went to bed even later than I did last night, I mean this morning. Oh. I‘m so tired I feel lousy. (continued Sunday morning 7.30). At long last I feel slightly refreshed and a little bit more human. The first time we came to Sydney and this time, well you’d hardly think it was the same route. The first time we had a perfect trip, but this time…?

Everything went all right until we were nearing Keith. I had been dozing in the back and Mum had been dozing in the front. Then it started. The radiator on Charlie‘s car began to boil. We stopped to help them with some water, and then, sure enough, our radiator began to boil too. There was a terrific tailwind. We’d be doing 40 miles an hour along the road then we’d look out and there the dust would be keeping abreast of us. The heat was pretty terrific too and consequently, the radiator boiled and boiled. When we reached Dimboola, Dad decided to throw in the towel for a couple of hours and wait for the wind to die down a bit and get a bit of a rest.

Dimboola didn’t look like the same place as last time. Last time it was green and inviting when Nancy King and I went swimming there two years ago. Now it was dry, dusty and most uninviting. My bathers were packed so there didn’t seem much chance of having a swim, so Dad thought anyway, but I thought differently. Beth and I walked down to the River, but to our annoyance, there were a number of boys, about 14 – 15 years old there. We walked down to the pontoon and looked across in time to see a sheet of dust travelling across the water straight at us. We dived behind a tree and waited for it to pass. I felt dirty – filthy in fact! Right then and there, I decided that bathers or no bathers I was going in that water. I took off my blouse and jumped in and swam in my bra and my shorts. I was going to take off my shorts off as well and just swim in my briefs, but the boys were making movements as though they intended to go in too and I thought better of it. I swam behind the pontoon so that they couldn’t see me, but they kept looking suspiciously in my direction. It was lovely in and Beth looked quite jealous, but she would never do what I was doing. Beth would enjoy life a lot more if she loosened up a bit, or didn’t marry my brother and have him tell her what to do all her life!

When we returned to the car Charles and Dad were trying to get some sleep in the car. We went to have a shower. It was so hot that no sooner than I had washed my hair, it was dry again and my clothes were almost dry. I went to lie in the back of the car and I got about an hour and a half’s sleep. We had a meal in Dimboola before moving on. I had a chicken roll and a pint of milk. Afterward, I felt too full. We kept losing Charles and Beth and they seemed always to be coming back to look for us, until we got sick of it and told them to keep going. We stopped at Bendigo for a drink and then against Beth’s (and my) wishes we continued on to Shepparton. When we arrived at Shepparton, Charles and Dad, Beth and Mum were pretty near exhausted, and sure enough we couldn’t get accommodation anywhere. There was no manager available either.

Poor old Dad, he felt that he had let us all down. I think I was the only one who still had a sense of humor left. I thought it was quite funny. No one else did! Dad had to get some sleep, so he lay in the back of the car (in the main street) and Mum sat in the front of the car. Charles and Beth drove around a bit, trying to find somewhere to sleep, but eventually came back, parked the car and gave up. Beth let Charlie have the car to sleep in, because he was shot, and near exhaustion. He was also the driver. The result was that Beth and I were left by ourselves in the main street of Shepparton sitting on the Post Office steps in the middle of the night and wondering what our next move would be.

We sat there for a while and then I suggested we go to the Police Station and maybe we could commit a crime and get thrown into the “clink” for the night. Then we’d have somewhere to sleep! For some reason, Beth didn’t like my plan, but eventually, I persuaded her. We trudged around to the Cop Shop and knocked on the door – no answer. We went around the other side and tried again – again no answer. We hammered on all the doors and windows, but there was obviously no one inside the building and so at last we gave up in disgust. A Customline full of lairy-looking men kept passing us. They gave Poor Beth the jitters, so in the end, we ended up back on the Post Office steps where I decided we would sleep, somehow. I pinched a rug from Dad and a couple of pillows, put them on the porch, and lay down. Beth grudgingly joined me and we both lay down together. The cement was hard but I was so tired. Every time a car would go by, Beth would start and look up. The cop car went by once and we both jumped up and tried to stop it, but it had gone by and we didn’t manage to get their attention.

I slept for a while and then I was woken up by someone upstairs yelling to the Police that there were two prowlers down below. Beth and I sprang up, thinking the fellow was talking about us. The police car came by and a couple of girls (not us) looked as though they were going to be arrested. Beth and I looked at each other and laughed, how come they were being arrested and we had been trying half the night to get arrested and they’d ignored us? The two girls were standing by the police car and laughing and acting up with the police who turned out to be just young lads. I don’t know what happened in the end, because I went back to sleep. I don’t remember a thing from then on because I must have fallen asleep but when I did wake up I found that we were at the Shepparton Camping Grounds. How we got there, I had no idea until Dad told me that he had shaken me and I had walked to the car under my own steam, but I remember nothing. I must have been tired, that’s for sure.

The next stop on from Shepparton was Benalla and we had breakfast at the Motel there. We found that we could have got accommodation there if we had only driven on. Wouldn’t it make you mad! We had a wash and felt a bit more human by then. Yesterday, when we were nearing Shepparton, we passed through some wet tar, and it sprayed right over the outside of the car and the inside as well. I got tar all over my shirt and shirt and I was filthy. Mum had it all over her face and she looked so funny. She didn’t seem to be amused.

When we eventually arrived at Albury, we went to Brother and Sister Story’s home and had a life-saving cup of tea there. They are an old couple and really lovely. It’s rather sad for them. There aren’t any young people in the ecclesia there at all and therefore they can’t spread the Truth as they want so badly to do. They can’t distribute pamphlets because they can’t walk very well. They‘re quite cut off and they know that when they die, the ecclesia will just die out. They have the Sunday meeting and lecture, but that’s all they can manage. They had a Bible Class on a Tuesday night once and it was something they looked forward to, but now they’ve had to cut that out.

People rarely are interested in the Truth in Albury. They’re too sports-minded. There is organised sport everywhere. Beautiful swimming pools, tennis courts etc. They feel they have no need for religion. Even the Church of Christ, Methodist places have very small attendances. At one stage, The Concord Ecclesia at Wagga was going to join up with them but that fell through. I felt really sorry for them. Charles said that he would see if he could arrange a lecture for them and get some of the young people to go down.

We left at last and the next stop was Gundagai. We had lunch there at a new Australian place. It was a pretty good meal. We left Charles and Beth there – they were going straight on to Camden to the Joseph’s at Cobbity. From Gundagai, I slept in the back of the car for about 1 1/2 hours, and then I changed with Mum. Dad was exhausted and I was forced to keep awake myself to keep him awake. Along the road to Moss Vale, there were bushfires galore. In one place the fires were raging right near the homes that were there. The air for miles around was just one thick pall of smoke. It seemed as though we would never get to Sydney and Dad’s eyes were just slits by this time. I wished I could drive so I could relieve him. I must learn to drive first thing when I get back to Adelaide. Then I could drive our car to the meetings, that would help me too because I wouldn’t have to go home with any of the boys, I could be independent of them. Sounds good to me!

At last, we hit Sydney. We passed through Yagoona turned into St George’s Road and went on to Sutherland. The Deverson’s were still awake and we had a much-needed cup of tea. Anthony and Pat had waited up until 11 pm but were both asleep when we eventually arrived. Dad drove me around to the Swan’s a bit later and Val was still up. She was exhausted waiting for us and very glad that we had arrived at last. I was to sleep in the twins’ room. I slept too, I can tell you!

19571201 Letter from Fred Hackett.

19571201 Sunday at the Swans – I slept until about 6 am this morning and then the twins put a stop to that. Paul was sleeping in the cot with David’s name on it and David in Paul’s cot. Evidently Paul can get out of his own cot and can’t get out of David’s. They’re about two, fair curly hair and hazel eyes. They‘re lovely little kids and very, very healthy and full of life. Val took them out and gave them their breakfast and I did some typing. I must keep this up to date this time. We had breakfast – it took us about two hours and Val and Gill caught me up on the Sydney news. They’re a lovely couple. Val was married when she was 16 years old. She’s an extremely pretty girl and the twins are handsome little kids. Gil is going bald – he’s not exactly an oil- painting, that’s for sure, but he’s an extra nice fellow and good fun. Ted Spongberg brought them into the Truth and they’re pretty enthusiastic. They do the wrapping of the Logos now since Bruce and Elaine have been ill.

We had a very enjoyable breakfast and we cleared up and washed the dishes while the twins spread ice cream and milk and jam over the floor. Val and I went to the morning meeting and Gill stayed home to mind the twins. They take it in turns to stay home. The first person we met was Anthony Deverson. His comment? “Here comes Fay and her flying saucer.“ I don’t think this hat can expect a very long life! I noted, however, that it was the same old Anthony. Cookie was there too and he’s still got his crew cut. He’s a lovely lad. I was introduced to the ones I hadn’t met and said “Hello” again to the ones I had. Bro Williams from Yagoona was exhorting and Ken Kirkwood was presiding. Cathy Kirkwood (nee Vida) is having a baby shortly. She and Ken were married last time I was in Sydney and Malcolm Kirkwood was supposed to be their Best Man but he had a blowout just before he got to the wedding on his way back from Brisbane.

After the meeting, Malcolm came up and thanked me for the notes I had been sending him. He said that they had come in handy a short while back. He had to give a talk on Melchizedek and he used my notes and quoted from them. He asked me if I had marked my Bible on Abraham and he had a look at them. He commented on the spasmodic way the notes have been coming out. He said he’d get them regularly for a while and then nothing had come for some weeks and he thought I had stopped sending them, and then they started up again. I’ll have to get to work and write back my last three lots of notes. I’ve got one page stenciled and I guess I had better send them out soon. That’s the trouble, you start doing something like that and then everyone expects them to keep on coming. They have no idea of how much time it takes. I should be able to get onto them after Sydney and during the Christmas break. I don’t think I’ll go to Wallaroo this year.

Malcolm asked me if I’d like to go swimming in the afternoon. I liked! I got Dad to pick up Val and the twins because there wouldn’t be enough room in Malcolm’s car. We had lunch at Val’s place though I was supposed to go to the Deversons. Malcolm Kirkwood and Roy Steele walked in just after we had finished lunch and we moved them outside before they wrecked the place. Malcolm’s mother was in the car outside and Roy’s wife and the two Rodents as Malc calls their children. We went to the River in the National Park for the swim. It’s a lovely spot. The river is quite wide and there’s a net to stop the sharks (not land sharks, there’s no stopping them). We crossed the bridge and dumped our clothes cross the other side. Then Malcolm and I walked out onto the bridge again. He was looking awfully innocent, so I dived in first and evaded his evil intents. Then Roy dived in and then Malc. It was lovely in, quite warm. For some time everyone seemed to have the sole purpose of ducking me, but I think I gave them as good as I got. Malc can dive quite well and Roy, very well. The Bridge is only about four feet above the water and for a while, I got out of the water very easily. Roy and Malc would lean over and grab my hands and haul me up. Funny though, they tired of that after about 10 times.

Later on, the others arrived. The Deversons, Shanes, Dad and Mum, Cookie and Ted Spongberg. Some boys further up were playing with a tennis ball and they tossed it to me for a while. They left it in one time and I appropriated it and Malc, Roy, Anthony, Cookie and the rest tossed it around. Then Cookie threw it downstream a fair way, and as Malc had just about exhausted me, I didn’t swim for it. None of the other lazy blighters would go and get it, so it stayed there. Some other boys acquired if for about n hour until I reclaimed it, smiling sweetly of course. They gave it to me too, even though it didn’t even belong to me, but it didn’t belong to them either. Mum took some photos and as usual Malcolm laired up for the camera.

Roy had just dived into the water to get the ball and was walking out. There was a big rubber ball on the ground so I picked it up and tossed it down. It lobbed ever so neatly right on his head and sent him under again. From that moment there was a war on. Malc and Roy grabbed me and carried me protesting strongly (I’ll bet they’ll both have a few bruises to remember me by) out onto the bridge. There was quite a crowd there to watch proceedings. They seemed to be divided in their opinions about what to do with me. The girls said, “don’t be cruel.” The boys cheered them on. They made a great ceremony of swinging me and I made a mighty splash which seemed to satisfy both groups.

They were soon sorry for it though. I started a game of brandy with the tennis ball, but was forced to retreat into the water for my safety’s sake. There were some new Australians playing keep the ball away a little further down from us and the ball came near me. I picked it up and aimed a beautiful shot at Roy – it would have hit him for a six right on the head. However, he ducked and it hit a little girl behind him and sent her head over heels. She wasn’t hurt though, but she got a bit of a shock. Malcolm came up then, and told Roy off for ducking as he had done. He opened his mouth to protest and almost swallowed the tennis ball that Malcolm threw at him.

Dad, Bert Deverson and Ted Spongberg arrived back from a walk and joined in a game of “force them back.” Ted can throw pretty well, but the only time he caught it was when he received it in the neck. Cookie was up with me and he trod on the toe that I had cut when Malcolm had forced me against the barnacles on the bridge. Anyway, he’s got a lovely gash on his hand to remember me by now. Malcolm has, not Cookie. It was time to go to get ready for the meeting then, so we wandered back to Malcolm’s car. To look at Malcolm you’d think at times that he was a “brainless coote,” but underneath the crazy exterior, he has got a few brains. He’d like a girlfriend but I think he’s a bit too rowdy to get one at the moment, in Sydney, at any rate, though he could have his choice in Adelaide. Ted Spongberg spoke this evening at Sutherland and his subject was “Evil, its cause, and how it can be overcome.” He tackled it from a rather interesting angle. I haven’t heard it presented in quite the way he did before. Must write back my notes when I get home.

Malcolm took us home after the meeting and on the way his mother kept getting angry at him for being “rowdy and a larikin” and she also tried to tell him what a good thing it would be if he got a girlfriend and got married like Ken Kirkwood. Poor Malcolm, I bet he gets it from her quite a bit. He gave me his new address to send the notes to. I slept pretty well, but during the night, the kids started to yell, so I got up and turned them over, and tucked them in and they slept again. Strangely enough, so did I.

19571202 Monday – I was woken up this morning by my usual alarm clock, the twins, and I was still feeling tired, so when they had been removed, I went back to sleep again. By the time I did get up, it was about 8.45. We started breakfast and by the time we finished, it was 11 o ‘clock. Val and I talked a fair bit about ecclesial life at Sutherland. It’s funny how there are always petty little things in the ecclesias which ruin the fellowship that should exist among brothers and sisters. She said that during the time that they were being taught the Truth, they were invited here and asked out there, to people’s homes, to meetings, etc. But just as soon as they were baptised, they felt that they were dropped for dead. She said that for a while they felt as though they had been “caught” and no one was going to bother with them any further. She said that rarely did anyone come to see them and when she had the twins, no one ever came to see if she needed anything. That is so sad. I think it‘s just that people are a bit thoughtless. They‘re a lovely crowd but inclined to look after their own affairs. I know she is right because Christadelphians do tend to look after people while they are “needing” it, but when they are baptised it’s sort of as if they think that they are ready to look after themselves now. It is thoughtless and selfish, I know.

My feet are all sore and cut about from yesterday’s swimming and it hurts to put my shoes on. I decided I couldn’t make the distance to Deversons as I was supposed to (for lunch) so I walked to the phone box to ring Bruce Philip and leave a message for Mum. Just as I reached the phone box, however, Mum walked up the street. She had got tired of waiting for me. We walked up to the house and while she talked to Val, I did some typing. I didn’t get much done though because the twins felt like playing. It is amazing the amount of mischief they can get up to, and what a mess they can make of the house in a remarkably short time. They both got onto my typewriter and each time I’d go to type, Paul would hold the carriage so that I’d be typing in the one spot. Paul is more mischievous and impatient than David. David looks at a thing solemnly and carefully examines it and pulls it to bits. Paul just pulls it to bits.

We had lunch at about 12.30 and that took us about an hour to have. Dad would be quite disgusted. He can’t understand how that when we go interstate we can bear to stay at home and see nothing. I’m jolly sure that I was happier just lazing around here than rushing around in town as he expected me to. Besides, I had some typing to do. Mum left about 4. 00 pm leaving me with instructions to be ready by 7.pm. I was ready by 7, but Gill hadn’t had his shave and the kids were still being fixed up when Brother Deverson came to pick us up. I did the boys hair and grabbed Paul and carried him out to the car. Gill of course was last, he’d forgotten to have a shave.

Bert Deverson is a terrible driver and the car is not in very good shape. He just about turned it over as we turned into Lakemba Street. He said something jammed. I carried David into the hall and Val took Paul. Faith was there and she came over and said “Hello.” Then I went over and said “Hello” to the boys. One of the lads who took me home from the Brisbane social was there and I still don’t know his name. Bro McClure was there too and he said he wasn’t even going to bother to invite me out to his place this time because he knew that my program was already full. How did he guess?

David Pogson and Wendy came in then. I kissed Wendy and allowed David to wring my hand. I noticed that he had a look around the boys to see if there was anyone there he could pair me off with. Just because he arranged the relationship between Beth and Charles, he‘d better not think he can do the same with me! I’m quite capable of making my own arrangements in that direction. Davy Joseph and Peggy came in then with the new baby. They’ve called her Margo. I asked whose idea that was. Davy looked rueful and pointed his thumb at Peggy. Peter Joseph is not as quiet as he was last time. He came up and spoke to me and stayed near me quite a bit. He’s got a crew cut now and looks a bit of a bodge. He’s a nice lad. I wish we could get him over to Adelaide for a while, I think it would probably be good for him. He’s not living at home now but with the Seally’s. I asked him when he was coming over to Adelaide and he said he’d be in Adelaide on the 22nd of this month, but only for a few hours because he will be traveling on to Broken Hill.

Frank Ryan was MC for half of the meeting in Les Ryan’s place because Les was in at an AB meeting. Beth and Charles were late as usual. They had been out fighting bushfires. Evidently some fire bug had been going along in a car throwing out burning brands every hundred yards and there were fires everywhere. Four boys were burnt to death in the fires in the Blue Mountains. The Josephs at Cobbitty were almost burned out and the farm next to there’s lost all its fodder in the fire. Janice saw the fire first and said it was just a wall of flames and it was travelling at a terrific speed. Charles looked an absolute wreck. His eyes are still bloodshot. He’d do well to go to bed occasionally. It is so good to be able to type without the twins tugging at the typewriter, I can concentrate a bit better. I think that when I get home I’ll have to type my diary over again it’s been getting so disjointed.