Christmas cheer

This final blog post for the year is dedicated to those we have lost this year, and in particular Lionel, Mary and Kathrine.

This last year my family have done a lot of reminiscing and this in particular has helped to bring flesh and meaning to the stories I write about here. It makes what I write more personal and meaningful to be able to explain and explore traditions, myths, legends and questions brought about by my incessant and persistent inquiries.

And being the time of year I thought writing about past Christmas’ would be appropriate for my final blog post of 2012.

 

Christmas by the beach

Wilkens family Christmas at Barwon Heads, c. 1964

In the 1960s and 70s when my father was growing up, he and his family would make their way to ‘Wurrook’ in Barwon Heads where Amuri and Eric Russell, their grandparents, had retired. Christmas’ with the Russell and Wilkens clan was always a big deal. They would open presents either at home in Lara and then Meredith on the farm or when they arrived in Barwon Heads with their grandparents. Christmas lunch would see the family gathered around the large dining room table in the grand dining room. The table set with the best china and silverware collected over the years or passed down through the generations of Russell’s and Rutherford’s. Amuri and Eric would spoil their grandchildren Rob, Sue, Rick, Andrew and Kathrine with presents and Christmas treats. The call to hot Christmas lunch would be heard throughout the house with the sound of the dinner gong ringing out to summon the troops. Lunch with all the trimmings would be served up followed by plum pudding hiding silver coins in its flesh, a tradition passed down through my grandmother to us as children. The one thing that would have been missing was traditions my Dutch grandfather would have been used to. As a child my father does not remember having his Dutch ancestry play a part in his Christmas holiday traditions. Therefore, this year I am trying to integrate something Dutch into our traditional Australian Christmas lunch and dinner.

 

Santa Clause visits Herne Hill

For my mother Christmas started on Christmas Eve. Like a lot of families growing up in the 1960s and 70s they would attend the midnight service at St John’s in West Geelong before making their way home to try and clamp their eyes shut for the impending visit from Santa Clause. Christmas morning they would be up early to see what goodies would be stashed under the Christmas tree. After ripping the paper frantically to discover dolls, scooters, books and other prized possessions they would scurry over to the neighbours to check out their loot and compare gifts. Lunch for the Taylor family would be a table overloaded with several different meats and many, many veggies. Nanny Laura’s sago plum pudding would be drowned in homemade custard with a dollop of brandy butter. My mother and her family, including her cousins, aunt and uncle would stuff themselves silly with the festive feast before being excused from the table. The kids would go off and play with their newly received Christmas presents while the parents would have a sleep after lunch – a particularly boring thought for the young children.

Above: Mandy & Claire on Christmas day, c. 1963.

Above right: Mandy with Santa at St Johns, West Geelong.

Through the combination of both of these families and their traditions, my own family has brokered its own traditions and carried on those of my ancestors.

 

 

 

Above: Andrew & Mandy with Phoebe & Edwina. Christmas day 1989

 

So, to all of the readers out there I wish you a very merry Christmas and a safe and happy new year. Stuff yourselves with turkey, pudding and good cheer and I look forward to sharing more with you in 2013.

Phoebe

 

In the summertime when the weather is fine

The initial idea of this blog came from some inspiration from Inside History magazine, a gentle shove from an aunt, my great love and enthusiasm for all things genealogy and family history and the fascination I get from wading through old family photos. So the latter paired with my great love of the summer season and all it brings has led me to the inevitable – sharing family stories, myths and legends along with some sepia toned photos of family members past and present.

All Victorian’s will know that summer has already hit us before the official turning of the season. Yes, it seems it is going to be one mighty hot (and humid) summer for Victorians. So, this is a great introduction into this week’s post; warm days and summers spent with family and friends on beaches, farms and tropical far off places.

I have been extremely lucky to be able to spend summers by the seaside, running into crashing waves, squelching sand between my toes and lapping up my fair share of Vitamin D. And it seems that my ancestors have had the same inclination.

Barwon Heads

Above: Erica Russell (at left) with friends at Barwon Heads c. 1920s.

My great grandparents lived an affluent life being descendants of the Victorian ‘Squattocracy’. They lived and ran the property ‘Wurrook’, which was a part of the ‘Barunah Plains’ dynasty. Their affluence led to Eric, my great grandfather to retire early in his life, sell the farm and move to their holiday home in Barwon Heads, which they also named ‘Wurrook’. This large home on Flinders Parade, a few footsteps from the beach was the background for all summers for my great grandparents, grandmother and my father and his siblings. My grandmother Erica would ride her horses along the beach when she was growing up; my father, his brother and sister would spend days on end over their Christmas holidays swimming in the ocean and making sandcastles, just a stones’ throw from watchful eyes of their grandmother.

Above: Eric Russell and Erica Wilkens with Kathrine & Andrew, Barwon Heads c. 1964.

 

 

 

Anglesea & Torquay

 

About 40kms down the road my mother and her family would spend hot days on the beach at Anglesea. By the 1960s my great grandmother Laura Taylor had two grown sons and several grandchildren. In the late-60s Laura bought a small house in Camp Road, Anglesea where she and her family would spend weekends, holidays and summers. There are many happy, colourful (and very 70s inspired outfits) of their days gallivanting in the salt waters of Anglesea as well as Torquay.

 Above: Judy Taylor with Anthea & Mandy, Anglesea c. 1969.

Left: Lionel Taylor with baby Mandy on the beach c. 1961. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Java, Indonesia (formerly the Dutch East Indies)

My grandfather was born and raised in the Dutch East Indies, dark haired and olive skinned (passed down to some of his grandchildren, including me). His days were passed in the heat and humidity which was part and parcel of living in the tropics. Photos of sunny days show Hank and his brother Lou climbing trees and holding monkeys. Hank’s move to Australia (I will touch on this in upcoming blogs with new information just coming to hand) would have seen a different kind of heat. The dry heat that he would not have been used to in Indonesia or the Netherlands. His summer’s once in Australia would have been spent on the farm and at Barwon Heads with his children.

 

 

 

Above: Helena Wilkens with sons Hendrik & Louis,

Java, Dutch East Indies, 1920s.

 

Preparedness   

 

Preparation for the summer season isn’t all about having the right pair of bathers or having enough sunscreen, for many Australians and bush-dwellers in particular, summer brings the scary prospect of bushfires. Victoria saw the devastation of the Ash Wednesday fires in February 1983 and the Black Saturday fires in January 2009, but one summer that my father and his family will always remember but like to forget is January 1969. The Lara bushfires ripped through the township on 8 January 1969, properties, livestock, homes and livelihoods were lost in the face of a wall of fire. They had to face

evacuations and destruction in the wake of fierce northerly winds and soaring summer temperatures. They were lucky to walk away unscathed, but had lost a lot in the wake of the ferocious fire storm that ripped through the scorched land.

My ancestors may have instilled a love and history to summers spent on the beach, but they have also infused awareness for bushfire season and safety.

Left: Rick, Kathrine & Andrew Wilkens on the beach at
Barwon Heads shortly after the Lara bushfires, February 1969.

 

 

 

 

 

So, enjoy your summers, stay safe and cool in the impending heat and have a fire plan.

Phoebe

Fancy fillies

If you are an avid reader of my blog (yes, I know there must be at least a few of you), you might have noticed the propensity for me to have a general theme to my writings. And this blog post will be no different.

It is quickly come to the pointy end of year; the sun starts to shine, Christmas decorations start to adorn the shelves of shops and end of year festivities are planned. It is also a time when Victoria becomes immersed in all things horse-related. Yes, it’s the Spring Racing Carnival and apart from the oversized feathered hats, large consumption of champagne and men in suits; it is also a time when the horses shine. This then leads me to my topic for this week. I am a huge fan of the Spring Racing Carnival and love to have a bet on the horses, and when I was much younger I used to want my own pony to ride through the paddocks with the wind in my hair. Two things abated this dream. First, my father refused, point blank to have horses on the property, be around them or work with them; and second, I was overcome by sneezes and puffy eyes when I came within feet of a horse. There goes the dream of being the next Elizabeth Taylor in National Velvet.

Horses were a huge, if not the biggest part of my grandparents’ life. As a couple they held a well known and rather exclusive Dressage teaching school from their property in Lara and Meredith during the 1960s and 70s. However, as individuals they were mighty powerful in the horsing world.

Above: Erica Russell & friend on a horse, c. 1930.

My grandmother, Erica Russell grew up around horses, as did both of her parents, Eric and Amuri. However Erica was a whole different kettle of fish. It seems that she was comfortable on horseback from a very early age, I’m sure there were two factors to this narrative. The first being that she grew up on the land and it would have been a requirement that she be sturdy riding a horse, the second would be (and there is photographic evidence of this), she was probably put there under duress. Her brother Tom was 12 years her senior and there are many photos of him propping her up on a horse. So it is quite likely that she could ride before she could walk!!

From as early as the mid-1940s Erica was riding professionally. Pounding the ground at Royal shows throughout Victoria and even the country. Fairing more than well, and taking many top prizes and places along the way. She featured in newspaper pictorials throughout the 1950s for her placing in the Garryowen events, her winning the Equestrienne event and training for the 1956 Olympics.

 

Left: Erica on 'Flame', Geelong Show 1948.

Below: Erica on her favourite and most successful horse, 'Brown David, Colac Show 1949.

 

 

 

 

Erica, now in her mid-80s has dementia, however she remembers her time riding horses with great enthusiasm and in particular her favourite horse Brown David. She may not remember much these days, but she can tell you all about horses and could look at any rider and pick them apart (with vigour).

Hank was also an excellent horse rider, particularly when it came to Dressage. He competed in his native Netherlands in cross country events and was also very successful. I don’t know if his family also had an affinity with horses, but there are some photos which would lead any observer to the affirmative. When he came to Australia he continued to ride, teach and work with horses, he also wrote papers on the techniques of Dressage (which I don’t have the slightest bit of patience or interest to read).

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Above: Hank riding in a cross country event, The Netherlands, 1949.

Left: Louis Wilkens on horseback, the Dutch East Indies, c. 1925.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

As I said, horses were a huge part of their lives. And this is why they aren’t a huge part of mine. That said, I will put a bet on the odd race during the Spring Racing Carnival, but won’t get too close, save for sneezing all day.

Good luck and I hope you (and I) back a winner!!

Phoebe

Traditions

Looking for inspiration for my next blog post, I got to thinking about traditions. Traditions are events, elements of culture, beliefs and customs which are passed down through generations. Traditions, I suppose can go hand-in-hand with genealogy (or just this genealogist). Learning about the customs which your ancestors shared with other generations; who made the Christmas pudding every year (grandma)? How did that painting come to hang on our wall? Why do we have so many ribbons and photographs of showing sheep at the local show? The latter may not be a question posed by many people, but is definitely prevalent in our family.

It’s not just these shows which feature heavily throughout my ancestry, but livestock and sheep in particular. Both sides of the family tree have strong connections with sheep, and today, it is still a part of my family. Whether it be topping the markets in the wool sales for my Russell ancestors of Barunah Plains or Wurrook, and frequenting the local news of the time, detailing as much; or making a living through the sheep markets, which the Rutherford family would inevitably have done to help to amass their wealth and prominence.

 

 

 

 

 

Above: The Argus (Melbourne), 20 August 1927.

Right: The Argus (Melbourne) 18 November 1932

My maternal great grandfather was a sheep shearer by profession, travelling the country and living on the road going from one sheep shed to the next to make ends meet. Rumour has it that this side of the family was also one of the first to import merinos to Australia (a fact I am yet to verify). My sister and I were propositioned one school holidays to shovel sheep poo for a hefty (at the time) wage. We quickly tired of this and ate our whole days’ food within 2 hours of being left at the wool shed and were ready to retire from our shovelling duties soon after.

However, it was whilst I was moving the (precious/precarious) sheep into the shelter of the shed to prepare them for the upcoming Royal Geelong Show which got me thinking about our years showing sheep. We will be showing the finest of our flock of Ryland Merino’s at the local show, which is where I will be late next week (trusty assistant to my father). Why does he do it? Well, it’s tradition. Once a thing of great prestige, Dad would often frequent the rural shows with his own parents, who both showed and judged throughout the 1960s, 70s and 80s. Now, he is often one of the few showing in the Ryland category, and if he does win the prestige of a trophy and/or ribbon, it is usually adorned with his own name as he provides the prize under the ‘Malung Ryland’ banner.

 

Above: Erica & Hank Wilkens (at right) with their winning sheep at the Royal Melbourne Show 1962.

 

 

 

Left: Andrew Wilkens at the Baccus Marsh Show, circa. 1972.

Below: Erica Wilkens, 1969.

We have copious amounts of black and white photos of grubby men and women, (actually, more often than not dressed in their Sunday-best), holding a robust ram in front of the critical eye of the judges. This year, I will be one of those grubby women (much to the pride of my father), holding the tempestuous rams (I am quite convinced they hate me as they stamp their feet and butt their heads in my direction as I try to coax them into shelter for the night). It’s a tradition, I didn’t realise that was odd, because as traditions go, well, they’re traditional and just something you are used to. However, the more people I tell, the more they look at me with a puzzled look asking why we do it. It’s a tradition; just something that we’ve always done.

 Above: Starting them young. Phoebe & Andrew Wilkens at the Royal Geelong Show 1988.

So, wish us luck for the show next week, and let the tradition continue on.

 

Phoebe.

Wurrook featured in 'Country Style' Magazine in Winter this year. For the article see this link. 

Newspaper articles were sourced from Trove.

World travels for the Rutherford's

It's official. I have submitted my final assignments for uni and now I am a free agent (well, considering that I pass). Therefore, I am free to blog (and find a job). I can hear the thrill from here.

After completing my final assigment - a research proposal for anything I pleased (well, within in reason and the 'history' field), I am now eager to complete the proposed research. As I mentioned in an earlier blog it is a biographical study about my Great Grandmother Amuri Russell, and in particular her time serving as a volunteer in the Women's Auxiliary Australian Air Force (WAAAF) during the Second World War. After undertaking preliminary research about her life and her service in the WAAAF, it has made me even more interested in her life and achievements.
Apart from the fact that I feel that you are all so eager for me to write down my discoveries and interests in this blog for you (all) to read, the first thought of all of this came when I was rustling through artefacts and photos of my ancestors that we found in my grandmother's house. In the piles of documents and much junk we found photo albums and diaries of Amuri's travels abroad in 1909-1911. What fascinated me was that I had the exact same photos taken 100 years later. Here are some of the discoveries I have made along the way.

Travels abroad

In 1909 Andrew and Emily Rutherford, accompanied by three of their daughters, Emily, Ethel and Amuri left New Zealand for a grand adventure abroad. They first set off for Sydney to spend several months in Australia. Andrew and his siblings had been born in Australia after his parents George and Isabel migrated to Australia from Scotland in about 1839. After 17 years in Australia, the Rutherford family re-settled in the Canterbury region of New Zealand to the property 'Leslie Hills', which is today, still owned and occupied by the Rutherford family.
It was during this time in Australia when Amuri met her future husband, my great grandfather, Eric Russell.

From Australia the Rutherfords made their way to Europe on the Otranto liner. They toured widely through England, and visited Scotland so as Andrew could see the graves of his descendants. The family also visited France, Italy and Germany.

 

Doge's Palace, Venice, Italy c. 1910.

Doge's Palace, Venice, Italy, 2011.

Throughout their travels Andrew had regular published correspondace in the local New Zealand newspapers, where he wrote of the things they saw, the people the met and the disappointments they faced in several European cities, "the people in Italy were not clean; the German's ate too much". Andrew was not the only writer in the family with Amuri also having much of her writing published in the Domion Newspaper in New Zealand, as well as a small book publised called 'Observations' and letters sent home to her family. Family members would send the correspondance around town to her aunts, uncles and cousins boasting of the time they were having.









Nice, France, c. 1910 (left) and 2011 (below).

After galavanting around Europe the family sailed on to New York, and then to Montreal and caught the rail to Vancouver, before travelling home via Honolulu, Fanning Island, Fiji and Sydney.

The family had seen and experienced extraordinary things on their two year journey, including the Coronation of King George and Queen Mary in London and a Thanksgiving service at St Pauls Cathedral, where Andrew had a particularly good view of the Royal couple.
For Amuri the homecoming also coincided with the announcement of her engagament to Australian Eric Russell, whom she would marry in December the following year (1912). For Ethel, she had found love in Canada and opposition in her parents, for they did not approve of the match. It took 5 years before Andrew and Emily gave her their blessing.

To this day, a large majority of the Rutherford family still reside in New Zealand. And as far as I know, there are still descendants in Canada and, of course, Australia. For a large family, they have not ventured far.

It fascinates me to think about how extravegant the Rutherford's travels would have been in the early 20th Century and time it would have taken for them to venture so far from New Zealand. And luckily for me, we still hold the diaries and photographs of this time and can therefore try to begin to grasp what a wonderful adventure it must have been.

Phoebe.



Sources cited:
Holm, Janet, Nothing But Grass and Wind: The Rutherfords of Cantury, Hazard Press, Christchurch, 1992.

Papers Past, various.

Russell, Amuri, Observations, The Christchurch Press Company, Christchurch, 1912.

Serving their country

Yesterday in the mail I finally received my Great Grandmother, Amuri Russell's, war service records. As I have previously mentioned she served as volunteer in the Women's Auxiliary Australian Air Force (WAAAF) in the catering department. With the release of her service records we have been able to shed a little more light on her time volunteering in the forces during the Second World War. We now know that she initially applied to be in the administration department, however she was rejected. She was then accepted in the catering department for the next three years. Prior to her enlistment she was a chef at the women's hostel in Lansell Road, Toorak, Victoria and volunteering with the Australian Women's Army Service (AWAS). I have also discovered that during the time she was away with the WAAAF in places such as Ascot Vale and Deniliquin, her husband, my Great Grandfather Eric was living in Griffith, NSW. During this time their son Tom was away fighting in the 53rd/55th Battalion for the AIF, and Eric was presumably looking after the property in his absence.

Sergeant Amuri Russell's war service photo 1943.

During her time in the WAAAF, Amuri's daughter Erica (my Grandmother) was away at boarding school. In 1944 when she was 18 and finished school Erica joined the Australian Women's Land Army (AWLA). Nothing much else is known of her time in the Land Army, but I am trying to work my magic - so I will keep you posted.

 

Erica Russell in her Women's Land Army uniform, circa. 1944.

And on the other side...

A history of war service doesn't just run on my paternal line of the family.
After the outbreak of the First World War in 1914 the Hughes family of Kapunda must have been feeling particularly patriotic.
Henry and Penolope Hughes of South Australia had four sons and a daughter. All of their sons served in the Australian Imperial Forces during the First World War. Only three returned home.
The three eldest brothers, Roland Harry Hughes, Lancelot Dudley Hughes (my Great Grandfather) and Leonard Headland Hughes enlisted within 7 months of each other in 1915-16. Roland was sent to the trenches of Gallipoli and spent time in and out of hospital in France. Lancelot was stationed in England and France and was also wounded in action at least once. Leonard was the eldest of the brothers and the final of the three to enlist, but not for want of trying. He was initially rejected because of a problem with his teeth. However, when he finally did enlist it was at a time when Australia had seen a large amount of casualities and needed reinforcements on the battlegrounds overseas. Leonard left South Australia for Egypt in January 1916. From Egypt he was then stationed on the Western Front in France. Tragically, within the first few days fighting in the Battle of

Pozières Leonard was killed in action in the most brutal of ways. Australian forces had witnessed a huge loss of life during these first few days in Pozières with a further 23,000 casualties. Leonard was reported "Missing in Action" for sometime and not until mid-1917 was he finally declared "Killed in Action".

As if Henry and Penelope had not had enough worries with three sons going off to war and one being killed, their fourth and youngest son also enlisted. Norman Charles Hughes was 19 years old in 1917 and was ready for war. Because he was under the age of 21 years, Norman had to have permission from his father. So in November 1917 Henry Hughes wrote to the war office to offer them his final son for enlistment. Henry's letter must have been particularly hard to write having just confirmed his eldest son's death. Here he writes, "may add that he is the fourth and final son to enlist. I have no more."

Permission for Norman Charles Hughes to join the AIF

from his parents Henry & Penelope Hughes, 1917.

 

Norman made it home to Australia with two of his brothers. Sadly Leondard did not. His remains were reinterred in a war grave in Amiens, France with many of the other men lost during the battles on the Western Front.

Also, interestingly at this time Penelope Hughes was participating in 'Conscription Parades' through the streets of Adelaide. This in itself proves the patriotism of the Hughes family.

 

For family historians, historians or anyone interested in the military we are extremely lucky to have access to war service records and war records through the Australian War Memorial and the National Archives of Australiawhere a lot of this information has come to light.

 

There's plenty more to find out.

 

Phoebe.

A remarkable life

In my first post a few weeks ago I briefly mentioned a research project I am currently doing on the life of my Great Grandmother Amuri Russell. So, in the nature of all things genealogy I thought I would float a few things by my (plentiful?) readers and give you a small insight into her life (maybe I'll make it a 2-parter?).

Early life

Amuri with born at 'Mendip Hills' in the Canterbury region in New Zealand's south island in 1887 to Andrew and Emily Rutherford. She was the the seventh of eight children, the youngest daughter for the couple and part of one of the most prominent grazing family's in the country.
In about 1910 she set off with her parents and two (or possibly three) of her sister's on a round the world trip, stopping in exotic and far off destinations such as London, Paris, Rome, Venice, Berlin and Sydney. It was in Australia that she met her future husband (and my great grandfather) Eric Russell. In December 1912 Eric and Amuri married in a lavish wedding in Christchurch, New Zealand

 

The wedding of Amuri Rutherford and Eric Russell. Christchurch, New Zealand, 1912.

Australia

I believe that shortly after they were married Amuri and Eric made their way to Australia where they settled as a married couple.
The pair settled in to married life at 'Wurrook' Homestead in Rokewood, in Victoria's Western District. 'Wurrook' was part of the original 'Barunah Plains' property which had been in the Russell family since their settlement in Australia in the 1800s. The property and homesteads of the original 'Barunah Plains' was partially divided up between the Russell son's and for Soldier Settlement during the Second World War and was eventually sold off in pieces. The property and original 'Barunah Plains' homestead is now heritage listed (see the National Trust (Vic)).
Amuri and Eric had two children - Tom and Erica (my grandmother), who were both born at home and spent all their spare time on the farm and with the animals when they were both home from boarding school on holidays and weekends.

 



Above: Amuri Russell, Geelong, 1957.

At right: Amuri & Eric Russell at home in Barwon Heads in the 1970s.


Eventually Amuri and Eric permanently moved to their holiday home in Barwon Heads, which they also named 'Wurrook' where they spent the rest of their lives together.

 

Just a few achievements

Although reading through this brief outline of Amuri's life may seem like nothing out of the ordinary, her life and achievements were, in fact, extraordinary.
Amuri was not one to shy away from hardwork, or those in need and in the 1940s in the midst of the Second World War she joined the voluntary forces on the homefront. Amuri rose in the ranks to become a Sergeant in the catering division of the RAAF (however, there is contention over whether she was a part of the WAAAF or the RAAF). It also appears that she, like many others, lied about her age to join the forces. However, Amuri stated that she was several years younger than she actually was, seemingly to become a more desirable candidate to help the allies.

However, it was Amuri's work with the Australian Red Cross and Institute of the Blind throughout her adult life which was truly remarkable. So remarkable in fact that Amuri received an 'Order of the British Empire' in 1976 for her work with the Red Cross.

The end of an era

Amuri and Eric were married for 60 years, had two children, five grandchildren and numerous great grandchildren (added to the generations since have been great great grandchildren).
Amuri passed away at the ripe age of 101 years in 1988, legally blind (which holds some irony considering her life long work with the Royal Institute of the Blind), but with a very sharp mind and memory.

Amuri on her 100th birthday holding Phoebe, 6 months, in 1987. (Thanks to the Geelong Advertiser).

 

 



Post script

This short blog post does little justice to Amuri's memory and achievements throughout her life. However, through time (and this research project) I hope to be able tell her story.
In 2010 my father and I attended a 150 year reunion of the Rutherford family's settlement in the Canterbury region. This reunion brought together over 300 decendents of the Rutherford's in one place over a weekend and was truly amazing (for further details see the Rutherford Family Reunion).


Thanks, I'll keep you posted with the research.

Phoebe



A little further:

Holm, Janet, Nothing But Grass and Wind: The Rutherfords of Canterbury, Hazard Press Limited, Christchurch, 1992.

Hooray for holidays

Firstly, thanks one and all of the overwhelming support for my initial blog.

So, the two week mid-trimester break is here (finally), which means a whole lot of time to do a whole lot of research (and catch up on copious amount of study).

A few weeks ago I popped into the Genealogical Society of Victoria (GSV) for their open day, and subsequently joined as a member. They have an amazing amount of resources on hand and very willing and able to help with my research and have a group dedicated to international settlers research.
Whilst I love researching my ancestors, it doesn't take a lot to become overwhelmed and find myself floundering, and this is where I am at the moment.

My Grandfather & Java

My grandfather, Hendrik (Hank) Wilkens immigrated to Australia in the 1950s and it's almost as if his life began the moment he stepped off the boat and on to Australian soil.

Hank was Dutch, however he was not born in The Netherlands, but in Java in the Dutch East Indies - now Indonesia. We believe his father was a doctor for the Dutch Army, and Hank and his brother Louis were both born and raised there. It is also believed that both of his parents, Helena and Francois were born in the Dutch East Indies, but married in The Netherlands.

The Wilkens Family in Java, Dutch East Indies, c. 1924. From left Helena holding Louis and Francois with Hank.

The Netherlands

We know that the family relocated to The Netherlands, possibly in the early 1940s. However, we can't be sure when and why they decided to leave Java. I believe the explanation lies in the Second World War and the very real threat of Japanese invasion during the Pacific campaign in the early 1940s. All we know is that the family survived the war, and the family sans Hank went on to live in The Netherlands for the rest of their lives, possibly in Zeist.

Australia

We believe that Hank arrived in Australia in the early 1950s, however after researching alien arrivals records through the National Archives of Australia I am still no closer to finding any information. He is the ever elusive mystery man.
In 1957 he married my grandmother, Erica Russell in Geelong and they went on to have 3 children (one is my father) and lived in Lara, Meredith and Torquay. Hank was a qualified industrial chemist, an extraordinary horseman and one of Victoria's, if not Australia's leading dressage teachers.
He passed away in 1991, just before his 71st birthday.

Right: Hank & Erica Wilkens on their wedding day. Geelong, 1957.



Left: Hank looking rather dapper riding one of his horses.

 

 

 

Prologue 

Last year I embarked on a trip to The Netherlands to try and uncover more about Hank's life. I made little progress in the way of further information about him, but was able to delve a little further into the lives of his ancestors. He is very much a mystery man, but I will continue to attempt to Google translate Dutch documents, analyse old photos and hassle the National Archives. I WILL persist!!

The National Archives in Den Haag, The Netherlands, 2011.

Stay tuned. Hopefully there will be much more to come.



Phoebe

First and foremost

Welcome to my blog. I am new to the "blogosphere", so excuse me while I find my feet.
My name is Phoebe and I am in my FINAL three units of my Advanced Diploma in Local, Family and Applied History at the University of New England, NSW. I am a distance ed. student and currently avoiding a rather large pile of work sitting next to me by doing this. However, in my defence, I have been planning on starting this blog for over 2 months, so technically I am doing something "history-related".
I am passionate about genealogy and would one day like to read "genealogist" under my name (preferably on a business card, but anywhere would be fine). So this is where this blog will lie - in the family history research field (of dreams), but that is not to say that I will neglect any other juicy history tid-bits I might discover along the way.

I thought today would be the perfect day to launch this blog as it is the beginning of the national family history week, and tomorrow will mark the beginning of Open House Melbourne .
So it will be a few days devoted to history, with lots of fantastic bits and bobs to tantalise the history tastebuds.

The Russell Family of 'Barunah Plains', Western Victoria c. 1908. We believe the man standing on the right is my Great Grandfather Eric Kincraig Russell.

It also got me thinking (and searching) for more of my own family history. It is hard to explain just what fascinates me about it, but there is something that makes me tingle everytime I find an old photograph or document that could have passed through the hands of one of my ancestors. There is something indescribably exciting about the rush I get when I find out a new bit of information, no matter how big or small, whether it be from extensive research or from a relative reeling off a story.

So at present I am still in the midst of researching my own family and finding lots of exciting pieces of information as well as many road blocks along the way. Thus far I have gone back to the mid-1700s for one line of the family, with many more rellies to discover. I am also lucky enough to be able to take my own lead on a research project for uni which will cover the life of my Great Grandmother, Amuri Russell (nee Rutherford) and her work as a volunteer in the RAAF during the Second World War.

So, please enjoy. I can't wait to become a real "blogger".

Phoebe