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