First, I need to tell you to go and get a cup of tea. This is a pretty substantial post. I hope to be adding photos to this as I find them, so keep checking back!
Anyway- having kids and being on a (very small) teacher's wage (and only one) meant that Dad had to leave what he loved -Primary teaching- and pursue the bucks. This meant that we moved every 2-3 years while Dad climbed "the ladder".
Dad started off as a primary teacher, but - as I said - through necessity and career advancement, ended up teaching whatever he had to- secondary included. As a headmaster, he often didn't have enough experienced teachers to go around and had inevitably to "take up the slack". Mum also ended up teaching whatever Dad didn't have a teacher for. Again, that meant having a go at everything over her years in education, from Grade 1through to upper school maths.
Mum re-entered the workforce in 1961 (as a temporary teacher) until she was reinstated in the 1970s. She started off by taking on a Grade 1 class in Broome- which was the one I was in along with my "boyfriend" Mark Bin Bakar (Mary G).
We would hold hands across the rows of desks and Mum would have to step over our hands because we wouldn't let go. Not sure how we got any work done....
Maths was her passion (I know- how crazy is that!) She indulged in that for over 30 years at Norseman, Kalgoorlie and Churchlands Senior High. Mad woman. She even went to UWA to upgrade her quals while looking after 4 teenagers. Again, mad woman....
Through to the mid 1960s Dad also did 2 degrees by correspondence... the old way- by letters.... He was pretty driven. He also became a manager and motivator as he went up the education ladder as you read in the article above. While he was a regional director, Mum was holding a full time job, keeping house, and looking after 4 moody teenagers. Tough. Harsh... (Quote from Dad's favourite show at the moment- click the links...)
Anyway, consequently we had quite a nomadic childhood, living in Pemberton (David and Gavan born), Merredin (Carey and Graeme born)...
Then we lived in.... Click here to go to a map of our roamings...
(Sorry - I can't work out how to embed it!)
Now- there are not a lot of photos to source from, but I will do my best. Life obviously got too busy to take photos...
Broome (this was an idyllic kids' lifestyle) 1964-1967:
Guy Fawkes Night, watching the fireworks...
With friends, Bracksie and the Holden...
Cable Beach:
School Grounds:
Dalwallinu 1967-1969:
Graeme's balancing act:
Fancy dress:
Me- the birthday girl, 1968- 6 years old... with Graeme (4) and Mum (36)...
The boy brackets- the oldest and the youngest in 1968- just 4 and 11 years old...
Boans (Mum's favourite store) Santa in Perth, 1968.
Rose obviously gave us all a haircut for the photo (left to right- Gavan 9, Carey 6, Graeme 5, David 11):
Carnamah 1970-1971:
Dad took this portrait. David is wearing a jumper made by Mum, and she has started to leave my fringe alone!!! But Gavan on the other hand.....
(Carey 8, Gavan 11, David 13, Graeme 7)
Grams used to knit these t-shirts for us to keep us form getting colds, and Mum made me wear one underneath my sports tunic. I was mortified that everyone would see it. Hence the tears in the photo below at a school sports carnival... This photo also happens to be one Gavan's favourite of me... hmmm... I was not a happy runner, but we had all found our niche as swimmers.
I note I have thigh muscles though.... at 9 years old..
To distract from the photo above, I offer up my baby brother, Graeme, before he started to lose his baby teeth...
Norseman: 1972-1973:
This is where I suddenly, somehow turned into a dark little Greek girl! Rose may well have stopped cutting my fringe, but look what she replaced it with! Hair curled within an inch of my life, and I'm ready to go to a school social (cringe).... Holding a boab nut (why?). But at least my nails are painted!
The ultimate in Goldfields chic... at 11 years old..
Page boy haircut and a slacksuit. Carey and Gavan...
It must be the 70s....
Gavan would take off to his friends in Norseman, and it would be days (in kid-speak) before he turned up again... His best friend's family owned the fish and chip shop, and ran the local drive in- so he had a built in social life there.
Graeme was best friends with the local Anglican minister's son, so we knew he was pretty safe. He would disappear down the salt lakes near the airport (on Lake Cowan) racing sail boats on wheels... You had to be resourceful when there was no water for 100s of kms.
My best friend , Annie Dabb, lived on the Aboriginal Mission on the outskirts of Norseman and would regularly come and stay with us. My first winter (at the old Norseman school) was spent hunting out witchetty grubs and roasting them on the pot belly stove in the class room (and I am not joking).. The second year I was at the "new" school- not so interesting a time.
David also had great mates on the Mission... He is still trying to remember their names though.
A couple of photos from those days- the first is from our house in Angove St in 1972 beside the peppermint tree (on the way to church)... Graeme 9, and me 10 years old.
This one is after a successful swimming carnival in the same year... Graeme on the far left and me on the far right...
Our wonderful boxer, Bracksie died while we were living here. She was 13...
For a remote, dry, hot and "nothing" town in turned out to be just as great a post for us kids as Broome was.
Kalgoorlie 1974-1975:
This was a bland place when compared to the other towns we lived in. And it was far too big. Dad was away a lot, and Mum had to cope with us- and we were all pretty much in teenager mode.
I can't find a many photos from this time period, but as I find them I will add them. Gavan and I went to Kalgoorlie senior High, Graeme finished his Primary School in Kal, and David started an apprenticeship at a bakery in Boulder. Other than that, everything is pretty vague.
The exciting thing for us was that we saw a 6 month old red female boxer advertised for adoption in the Sunday Times just after Cyclone Tracy in 1975. Dad just happened to be in Perth working on the house the folks were building in Wembley Downs. He went to the Shenton Park Dog Refuge and hand delivered an application to adopt her- she was called "Cissy". (I know I have the original ad, and when I find it I will upload)
He persuaded them to let him adopt her on the spot, and brought her to Kalgoorlie. She battled with him, insisting on sitting in the passengers seat the whole way, and won. Dad called her "Wonga"- the Wongi tribe's name for "Gentle One", and it was love at first sight - for us at least.
She was pretty hard to win over, and we tried with chocolate and all sorts of treats. She was not interested for sooooo long. And then it all changed.... to the point where she would source our bread (read: steal from houses that had it delivered and bring it back), gather papers (other people's), defend us against troublesome and belligerent green garbage bins, and generally became a partner in all our crimes. She was a great dog, and we came to know her as "Suuuuuuper Dog!!!!" because she was so damned smart. But more of that later. Suffice to know- she was our second boxer, and she was amazing. I'll be putting more photos of Wonga up as I find them...
and finally..
Perth 1977+:
The folks had been building their dream home for a few years, after saving for many. They saved and saved, and paid cash for everything. Pretty amazing given their very humble beginnings and with four kids in tow.
Mum took a post at Churchlands Senior High, and we all went there (apart from David who had already left school and was completing his apprenticeship as a baker with TipTop bakeries).
We lived with no curtains, carpets or backyard (only sand) for around a year. It was a culture shock for ages until we settled in- which took a while (at least for me!).
We eventually had a pool in our new place, and that was put in well after we moved in. (Quite exciting anyway, as we were all swimmers).
Overall...
it was a pretty interesting childhood, much of which we were allowed to roam free. I am sure the folks didn't know where we were most of the time... They would have freaked out to know that David and Gavan were building underground cities in Carnamah that could have caved in at any time. Equally they would have been upset with Graeme for positioning himself to look up his Kindy teacher's skirt. Me? I used to eat all the play dough I could find- especially purple playdough.
I don't think we noticed all the moving that much though- it was quite normal for us. I don't remember any of us questioning it when all the boxes arrived again and Mum started packing.
The folks had a great system though- every move we made, Mum and Dad joined the local tennis club, the golf club, anything else on the go, and went to church. In those days that was the fastest way to get into the community and make friends. They had a ball.... and made loads of friends they kept in touch with through the years.
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