2015 ron rathbone local history prize - city of rockdale · my best times at bexley were my two...
TRANSCRIPT
ROCKDALE HISTORY - A SHARP REMINDER
By Bruce Sharp
As the years have passed by and the traffic gets worse
It’s time to set down my memories in verse
That recall life in Rockdale in the days of our youth
With some words quite nostalgic but mostly the truth
Kogarah Hospital ’31, the year I was born
At the height of the Great Depression on an early March morn
A mother not young, a husband infirm
An older child waits of his new brother to learn
So begins a time of loss, struggle and fears
The father’s life will expire in just a few years
A victim of war, a lifetime at sea
A breath sapping environment – but soon he is free
The young mother now faces the hard years ahead
To raise her small children and provide daily bread
Their small cottage in Oswell Street has a view to the sea
And at the small airport Mascot, a light plane one might see
Our grandparents lived nearby in Wollongong Road
Like many another their business had failed
They moved into our house to lighten the load
And brought with them their boarders – this new venture they hailed.
They settled into the best two rooms of the three
The other housed mother, my brother and me
This arrangement lasted quite a few years
And through it helped our survival, it caused many tears
At last, thanks to our kind uncle the grams moved away
The younger boarder enlisted, the older would stay
He was quiet, uncomplaining, a tradesman, a friend
He taught me some skills, he stayed on till the end
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Our mother, an English Rose, home town Rye in Kent
Near the Kentish town Bexley, the name that’s now lent
To our own Bexley in Rockdale, where to school we were sent
To be nurtured and fostered and rostered and bent
My brother Ronald sixteen months older than I
Is now the man of the family and I, the small fry
And so it continued through fiery years ahead
He was the leader and I was the led
Life in the thirties was much different to now
Most families struggled and widows more so
Our grandparents had raised us and kept us in rein
Our mother, though loving, now sought a life of her own
She liked reading and poetry, friendships and song
I can still hear her voice as she sang all day long
She was a good dressmaker but with no business sense
Where others made shillings, she only made pence
Friday nights at the end of each week
Off to Paddy’s Markets by train, food bargains to seek
Specked fruit, rejects and second hand clothes
With a smile for the vendor, the transaction would close
Not a good cook no skills with the stove
But she always tried hard to give us her love
She made do in the tough times, it’s hard to reveal
She’d even cook grass and at times potato peel!
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Schooldays at Bexley I look back to with pride
As in all kinds of weather we’d walk, never ride
The hot days of summer burned our little bare feet
And on winter’s cold mornings there was frost on the street
But that was before folk had cars of their own
Kids walked home with their mates, climbed trees, threw stones
We didn’t need money to have lots of fun
We’d play follow-on marbles, sometimes we won
Our journey to school by the same route each day
Took us past Lydham Hall, and its view to the Bay
In those days the stables were still in their place
Later sold, demolished and rebuilt, in suburbia’s race
Kindy and primary were for most quite new worlds
And for those boys with no sisters, we first ever met …girls!
We were embarrassed and shy, some daring and bold
As I look back at our class photos – I can see why I’m now old
Next came the big school, only for boys
Where we’d learn reading and writing – forget games and toys
We were now adjusting and learning the score
When the next bombshell hit us ……. along came the WAR
We were taught self-protection against the bombs and the fires
How to dig trenches, prepare for blackout, avoid dangerous wires
But out schooling continued, in spite of the war
Once more we’d adjust, just as before
I recall seeing soldiers in trucks and in ranks
Out on Forest Road I saws Bren guns, even some tanks
This was the beginning of hard times to come
Where we’d tightened our belts, swore to care for our Mum
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My best times at Bexley were my two final years
When the school flute band began and we soon lost our fears
What a grand band it was, made us so proud
We’d play gently at concerts, at assembly so loud.
Headmaster Ben Colditz, a wonderful man
Was my teacher and mentor, made me today what I am
He loved history and poetry, craft and good words
With his tuning fork ready, we’d sing like the birds.
At the end of our school year when we faced the academy
Took second place to Eric Baker, now a star of the judiciary
I chose Sydney Tech High where I didn’t fit in
Out of my depth socially, my wallet too thin
I stumbled along through my three high school years
No art, no library, out of step with my peers
I just passed the Intermediate by the end of the war
Got my first job as an apprentice, sweeping the floor
Brother Ron attended the Kogarah Boy’s High
Who’d guess that in a few years he’d learn how to fly
After a few years at various employment
His inventive brain sought challenge and also enjoyment
Thanks to mother’s indulgence in our modest small home
We could now practice our hobbies, signs of big things to come
With ideas and inventions too many to name
Ron’s schemes and day dreams would in time lead to fame.
Our home was Alma Mater throughout our teen years
With clashes of opinion, personalities and tears
No father for discipline, it was often free for all
But it taught us independence on which in hard times we would call
Ben ColditzPrincipal
1940-1951
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In after-school hours and with holidays begun
We’d conspire with our mates for adventure and fun
With not too much traffic, the street was our playground
We’d climb trees by the roadside where we couldn’t be found
At the end of our street, steep Wolli Creek Road did run
Next to Gardiners Park, the source of great fun
We’d race homemade billy carts, feel the wind in our hair
Accidents were commonplace, yet somehow we’re still here
The park was a Mecca for all kinds of games
Cricket and footy, kites, model planes
We’d make skis from fence palings, slide down the big hills
Bruises and splinters were the price of our thrills
Summer holidays lured us to Brighton the beach
In the sun all day with no shelter, a sad lesson did teach
For days following the exposure our suffering was real
As after the blisters, our skin would then peel
Sometimes to Ramsgate, the pool and the Zoo
The springboards, the slippery dips, the caged monkeys too
Outback near the lockers, on the sand stood the rings
Where we’d show off to the girls with our dangerous swings
They weren’t too impressed, they liked the monkeys much more
We’d risk life and limb and often much more
When we got back to earth they gave us a low score
When we asked them their reason - too young , too poor
The other great challenge of our youthful days
Bexley Gully offered adventure in so many ways
There were snakes in the grass and fish in the creek
Blackberry Bush, Prickly Pear each day of the week.
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My love of Gymnastics began at Bexley Presbyterian Church
We both joined the Junior Boys Club, learned to vault and to march
Ron had other interests, I stayed a few more years
Until I discovered ballroom dancing, also my fears.
Rockdale in those war years, dancing was the rage
Big crowds, big bands, the music opened a new page
The Paradance, the Palais Grande, every small hall
But for those gala occasions, Rockdale Town Hall
I loved the music, the Quickstep, the Waltz
Which I learned Monday evenings at Frank Kaye’s dance class
Passed a few medals, a nice partner did meet
Felt like a hero when at the Trocadero we’d compete.
Enjoyed the competition, the atmosphere fantastic
Until I discovered once more my sport of Gymnastics
Sydney’s YMCA in Pitt Street was where I became
To take the sport seriously with others the same
Gymnastics in Europe was part of its history
But in Australia at that time it was largely a mystery
Although some youth clubs had existed before
The number of enthusiasts was reduced by the war
Now early fifties, the states would unite
To hold National Championships and from then on to compete
Word was around that Melbourne’s name
Was the choice of venue for the next Olympic Games
Thanks to men’s enterprise and love of the sport
To include Gymnastics for the first time permission was sought
To be part of the Olympics on Australia’s home ground
A team worthy to represent OZ now must be found.
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With few training opportunities, coaches, equipment
The challenge to be chosen became a commitment
And when to depend on others became too hard
I now built my own gym in my mum’s back yard
With trial and error and help from a plumber
We achieved this quite ambitious goal
With determination and some fright, I’d train into the night
With no one to save me should I fall
When the time came to face Olympic selection
All had trained hard to avoid rejection
What lay before us was then yet a mystery
I became part of the team, the rest now is history
I’d compete five more years, marriage and family appears
‘Twas time to look to a new future
I joined the committee, became secretary,
Vice-president and in time a Life Member
We had seen our sport grow from such a small show
Thanks to others with energy and vision
Both a sport and an art… it now plays a big part
And is seen in schools throughout the nation
And just as we’d age, we were once more on stage
As around came Sydney’s Olympics 2000
They’d remember my name, an invite to carry the flame
Up the big hill from Bexley North Station
A final accolade was the time when
Together with Albie Thomas my friend
The Mayor made an appointment, not too hazardous
And we were chosen … ‘Rockdale’s Olympic Ambassadors ’
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With no T.V. no computer, no video games
We’d embark on hobbies that might achieve our aims
We now shared a bedroom, drew a line on the floor
One half for big brother, my side had the door
Whilst flying model planes in Centennial Park
Ron met Neil Cottee who started a spark
Neil’s father, a pilot in the Royal Aero Club
Said to Ron – become a pilot – now there’s the rub
Ron accepted the challenge and now licenced to fly
Thought he’d build his own glider and take to the sky
He progressed from models to now the real thing
When he built a real sailplane with a 10 metre wing
Workshop was our small cottage and when he was able
He’d work into the night on the dining room table
Two years of effort and now he must try
To assemble the parts, let it take to the sky
He silenced his critics who kept asking why
When he proved them all wrong – flew it up a mile high
He had many hours of smooth, silent flight
Had lucky escapes – but came out alright
He progress from the gliders, and with the passing of time
Saved enough money to buy his own plane
Always he was busy, with his head in the air
Thinking ahead with ideas that could lead anywhere
Tried many schemes with varying success
A head full of ideas, whoever could guess
That the next one would gel from this creative mess
Will it perhaps lead to repute? The answer is ‘YES’
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Now comes the project that in time will bring fame
The Opera House Grand Organ that now bears his name
At the inaugural night it played so soft and so loud
And among the V.I.P. audience his mum was so proud
It took ten years to build from a modest beginning
Much criticism and doubt before he was winning
To convince his detractors of the task he was able
He must prove his real worth, put his plans on the table
The idea began when he was just twenty-nine years
With no academic background, no varsity peers
But strong self-belief and a firm resolve
A modest musical beginning for what was to evolve
Local lessons on piano, violin and cello
And advice from an organist, a most helpful fellow
Joined the Organ Society, met people of worth
Who enjoyed heavenly music right here on earth
On a visit to St. Mary’s he heard for the first time
In a big auditorium a sound so sublime
Here was a pipe organ with which few could compare
It made such a rich sound as it charmed the air
That beautiful sound did his spirit inspire
Following which he built a small organ, just for the choir
This led to a recommendation, not breaking the rule
To build a pipe organ for The Knox Grammar School
The world famous organist, Peter Hurford his name
Played on this instrument that bore the Sharp name
He’d performed on many organs the whole world around
And was so full of praise for Knox’s quite unique sound
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Hurford played some more times and then made a recording
Pleased with the result which proved so rewarding
He relished each note from the grandest to the teeniest
In his own words he said “Ronald Sharp is a genius”
He conveyed his impressions to the Organ Society
Who in turn made their nomination with every propriety
To the Government body that had the authority
To make the Opera House appointments and state their priority
He built a studio factory in nearby Mortdale
And with two fine craftsmen they’d explore every detail
To in time produce an instrument of which Australia’d be proud
This young man from Rockdale is one of our crowd
So began Ron’s odyssey to achieve his goal
To build a fine instrument that would seduce the soul
A mechanical tracker organ, it’s the world’s largest one
With 10,000 pipes, it weighs 37 tons
It took ten years, this search for musical perfection
The critics accused him of losing direction
Over the cost, over the time, yet resolutely he held his ground
Because his only resolve was to produce perfect sound.
At the end of this journey that near cost him his health
He gained recognition but not too much wealth
He and his assistants with the dogs barking loud
Had produced an instrument of which all could be proud.
After the concert when the applause settled down
He was given an award to go with the renown
Awarded the British Empire Medal for his work and his love
And to round it all off, he had lunch with the Gov.
He made organs for town halls, churches a few
Uniting Church Rockdale, with the Town Hall in view
There’s Bexley, Sans Souci, Kogarah Marist Bros
And in interstate capitols, there are several others19
ROTARY CLUB OF ROCKDALE
Now comes a few words about Community Service
And the Rotary Club of Rockdale which was born with a purpose
To help others less fortunate and in fellowship to mix
It was chartered 26th August, nineteen forty six
There were seventy members, all men of goodwill
They met at Rockdale Town Hall their role to fulfil
Chosen as leaders and not just for wealth
Vowed to be true to their motto – “Service above Self”
Inaugural president, Ben Colditz – a wise choice
Bexley School’s headmaster with the inspiring voice
Provisional secretary was Town Clerk, J. B. Scott
Then Ray Elder – his long life of service achieved such a lot
Rotary service clubs are throughout the world
All with the same purpose when their banner’s unfurled
Based on fellowship and community aid
To help youth and the needy and give overseas aid
Each week they’d meet in Rockdale’s Town Hall
To enjoy each other’s company whilst having a meal
To hear a guest speaker on a topical theme
And to make the plans that would achieve their aim
Sometimes the speakers were serious, some funny
But the aim of the group was to give service, raise money
To seek the best effort from every man
And to help folk in need wherever they can
Their aims were noteworthy and have now left their mark
Like Meals on Wheels, the Youth Centre, and Rotary Park
They’d support poor students and overseas scholars
Raise many pounds, and from then on it was dollars
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Rotary since its inception was only for men
But the world was changing, thanks to enlightened women
Although some male members were quite slow to yield
Rockdale’s first lady member was school teacher Anne Field
More women followed, even a members’ wife
They all were fine members and gave Rotary more life
Several have become President and performed with distinction
And were often much better than some men nearing extinction
1957 saw the first Brighton Beach Festival
The community’s response was quite irresistible
Rotary, Lions, Apex, The Mayoress’ Fund
All worked together as if they were one
The clubs worked in harmony with the carnival professionals
During the forty-nine years, co-operation was exceptional
At first was a Queen Competition, a delight for the eyes
And a fund raising Art Union with a nice car for the prize
At the conclusion they held a Grand Ball
To announce the winners, thank the workers and all
Everyone got together, danced, perhaps shed a tear
They’d raised so much for charity, let’s drink to next year
In today’s busy environment, though the needs are the same
There are less willing workers to achieve the clubs aim
To allow Rotary to function and to find younger members
Both Bexley and Rockdale Clubs chose to combine
Now the club functions with a renewed kind of vigour
Fellowship increases as the numbers grow bigger
And though years have passed, though some think a pity
Here’s to its success – Rotary Club of Rockdale City
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As a resident of Rockdale for the whole of my life
Here are some memories as keen as a knife
I’ve seen lots of changes and I’ve changed as well
But just a few items I’ve observed and can now tell
Married 1958 at Arncliffe’s St David’s Church
Reception at Rockdale’s Rosevale Villa
A beautiful sandstone mansion, and I might mention
‘Twas on the old Rocky Point Road, commanding attention
On much more land it was originally planned
And surrounded by a famous nursery
Roses, Azaleas, Camellias, Hydrangeas, and built in 1873
Daphnes, Gardenias, Hibiscus, Veronicas, we’ll soon start our own family tree
Imagine our surprise when four years later our eyes
Saw an item in the local news journal
This mansion of dreams must be demolished it seems
To make way for a Service Station eternal
We in time bought our house in Bexley’s south
Waratah Street, near the famous Blue Bus depot
When after 100 years, Pioneer Coaches disappears
Sold to Connex at the start of January 2000
Back in the forties when I wore my school tie
In East Sydney’s Paddington stood Sydney Technical High
I’d catch train and tram to be today what I am
An old boy in the Sydney Tech Alumni
As my son grew in years, the need for a razor appears
A young man with a future to greet
It’s off to high school, serious study’s the rule
Sydney Tech High’s now at the top of our street.
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In most communities however sublime
Reside the black sheep, the headlines of crime
Some are unknown, some we know well
Here’s two who were our neighbours, I hasten to tell
Two doors from our house lived quite a nice family
Quiet, kept to themselves, we’d greet them occasionally
Barry Roderick, the son, same age as I
Twice committed a murder before he would die
Around the corner in the very next street
Lived Harold Hopwood, pleasant to meet
Greeted the young lads with such a nice smile
Headlined, jailed, homosexual paedophile
To live in the same suburb, the whole of one’s life
One sees with changing years both joy and strife
That’s human nature, the same everywhere
It’s not just where we live, it’s how much we care
Some folk live in grand houses by the river, the sea
The people of Rockdale are just right for me
They hail from all countries, a mixture of races
And live happily together, you can tell by their faces
And as time races by with each new generation
They all play a part to help build our great nation
As we absorb each other’s customs, food, music and all
Rockdale’s fair city will be the envy of all
And there’s one more truth that I’ve found in my time
It’s that –‘The lower the start, the higher the climb’
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Bruce Sharp 2015
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