2015 Ron Rathbone Local History Prize

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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Bexley Primary School

Lydham Hall

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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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Bexley Primary School Flute Band

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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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Gardiners Park, Banksia

Ramsgate Baths

Bexley Gully

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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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Olympic training on home-made equipment

Rockdale, 195612

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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Flying high…

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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

Meals on Wheels opening event

Rotary Park,

Ramsgate

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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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St David’s Church

Rosevale Villa

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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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