ST. JOHN’S WOOD MEMORIES
Cheryl Franklin
November, 2011.
After having moved to the Alderley house at the age of 3, my first real memories of St. John’s Wood was when we came back to the house in 1960. It was no longer a “Shop”, so I guess our parents had altered it somewhat to make it a family home. I do recall the large glass window, which was strangely located BEHIND OUT KITCHEN SINK!! With the wisdom of age, I came to realise that it must have been the“Display window” for the original shop front. Mum and Dad now used it as a fernery, full of lovely green Maiden-hairs, etc. For a time, possibly the mid 60’s, my younger sister, Sharon-lee, Mum, our 2 Scottie Terriers dogs and I would walk to the ‘other’ shop to purchase a small white paper bag of lollies to take home and enjoy while watching the telly after dinner. This ‘general’ store was very close to the bridge and attached to a larger building that became various businesses over the years.
Our house, at 31 St. John’s Avenue, St. John’s Wood held so many wonderful family memories for all of us. Some that stand out for me are:
Imagine seven family members having to share one outback loo, situated at the end of a long (well it seemed to me as young child) winding, brick path! Often one would arrive hurriedly at the door, only to find it already occupied. And not always by a fellow human being!! All too often, it seemed the old wooden ‘outhouse’was not only occupied by the permanent residents of HUNDREDS of (scary) spiders, but also by a sleepy, LARGE carpet snake that would have found his perfect resting place atop the ceiling beam. This was MOST off putting to a young child who then had to brave the spiders AND the (did I imagine) beady eye of the latest reptile!!??
My poor Dad (Eugene) who was a very kind, country man, was strongly encouraged to remove the said snake by Mum & all of us. To do this, he had to use the garden shears to pull it out by its tail and, heaven forbid: the Greenies of our present time will be horrified, in one quick ongoing motion, swing it around above his head and……….(oo-oh), smash its head on the trunk of our Queensland nut tree!! Poor snake; Dad must have hated doing this and I remember him sometimes trying to convince us that he could just release it, letting it go back to the creek bank. But we “City-slickers” would never let him do that.
You see our house was situated on the bank of Enoggera Creek, which in itself gave us, as children the best of times and the worst of times. So often, the summer rains would cause the creek to break its banks and we often had the creek rushing past right under our bathroom window. Afterwards, we would emerge to check how much land had been lost and whether Dad’s lovely slab timber BBQ table, seats and the river stone BBQ had survived. Naturally, he had built them close to the edge of our land, and hence, subject to every flood event. And then there was THE 1974 DELUGE/FLOOD.
I was 22 by then and was actually holidaying with a friend and her family, at their sugar farm adjoining the Tweed River in northern New South Wales. This recollection is what I remember from my sister, Sharon-lee’s description. Dad was trapped on Waterworks Road side of the now impassable bridge, when things became really threatening. Only Sharon-lee and Mum (Lorna), the 2 dogs and the cat were home, with the creek steadily rising. I guess Mum was trying to keep them all as calm as possible. So they actually tried to go to bed, remembering that the creek had NEVER, in the past, actually entered the house. Sometime during the night, the next-door neighbour knocked on the door to advise them to leave the house. Sure enough, the water was swirling around the top step! They managed to grab the 2 dogs and joined the neighbours, Mr and Mrs. Macdonald and their daughter, Joan, in their car. They all sat in the Macdonald’s car, in their PJ’s, in the rain, at the top of the road, watching, by the light of the street lights, the water rise. They watched as our station wagon, which had been parked as usual in the driveway, washed up against the large Swampy-Oak trees. When the water finally dropped, they returned in trepidation, to the house. Sharon-lee recalls that they didn’t think, in their anguished state, of the dangers of paddling through knee-deep water in the garden to reach the front door, let alone (she now
realises) when they turned on the lights to view the terrible damage. She tells of MUD EVERYWHERE, the terrible smell and anything not firmly attached to the floor, moved all over the place. We were luckier than so many poor souls during that time, as the water had only come to just below mattress-level. Flooring,
furniture, walls were severely affected and everything in cupboards up to about a height of 40cm, was lost. A dreadful time for so many, and I was always very, very nervous when it rained heavily, following that awful time. (P.S.Our lovely white, Persian cat managed to climb up on top of a cupboard, so it was fine.)
Another ‘event’ of my own making, was when I was a young adult in the early 1970’s and at this time there was no problem with burning off one’s paper rubbish, rather than depositing it in the one, smallish rubbish bin that was emptied weekly by the ‘Garbo’. I was home alone and doing some household chores, one of which was to empty the rubbish. Now, we had always been told to never leave a fire burning unwatched. AND THEN, the phone rang! What did a young adult to? Well, this one ran inside to answer the phone. It was my good friend from the previously mentioned sugar farm, and being young females, guess what we did? Chattered on and on, and on!! I completely forgot about the paper rubbish that I had started burning in Dad’s beaut BBQ. My attention was instantly brought back when I heard Mrs. Macdonald SHOUTING my name, calling me to come outside. I dropped the phone, ran through the house to look out the bathroom window and lo and behold, I had quite successfully set the whole creek bank on fire!! I ran back to the phone, QUICKLY explained my problem and cut off my aghast friend.
It was then that I heard the screaming of the fire brigade approaching. How embarrassing! Poor Mrs. Mac had rung for their help and was trying to hose her side of the fence, so that the garage would not catch on fire. She wasn’t impressed; gee, I wonder why?? You see, while I was happily on the phone, a slight wind had sprung up, and this combined with my inattention and with much long grass around, which would grow well in the summer floods, caused a nasty fire to take hold.
The “Firies” pulled up in a noisy truck in the park beside our house, leaped over the fence, unwinding hoses as they deployed. Before long, all was under control,
including our two dogs, that were almost as frantic as Mrs. Mac. Not to mention their efforts to bark lots, while intruders in suits with strange equipment ran around their/our backyard. I was given a stern lecture by the “Firies”, but due to my youth, my degree of anguish and embarrassment, not to mention my ‘good looks’, they left it at that. Mum and Dad were quick to admonish me, deservedly so, and warned that our family could have so easily been given a nasty fine. I was grateful and lucky, and learned a hard lesson that day. Anyone in the neighbourhood that was home that day, enjoyed the excitement I believe and all turned out well. At least the long grass had a much-necessary burn off!
After having moved to the Alderley house at the age of 3, my first real memories of St. John’s Wood was when we came back to the house in 1960. It was no longer a “Shop”, so I guess our parents had altered it somewhat to make it a family home. I do recall the large glass window, which was strangely located BEHIND OUT KITCHEN SINK!! With the wisdom of age, I came to realise that it must have been the“Display window” for the original shop front. Mum and Dad now used it as a fernery, full of lovely green Maiden-hairs, etc. For a time, possibly the mid 60’s, my younger sister, Sharon-lee, Mum, our 2 Scottie Terriers dogs and I would walk to the ‘other’ shop to purchase a small white paper bag of lollies to take home and enjoy while watching the telly after dinner. This ‘general’ store was very close to the bridge and attached to a larger building that became various businesses over the years.
Our house, at 31 St. John’s Avenue, St. John’s Wood held so many wonderful family memories for all of us. Some that stand out for me are:
Imagine seven family members having to share one outback loo, situated at the end of a long (well it seemed to me as young child) winding, brick path! Often one would arrive hurriedly at the door, only to find it already occupied. And not always by a fellow human being!! All too often, it seemed the old wooden ‘outhouse’was not only occupied by the permanent residents of HUNDREDS of (scary) spiders, but also by a sleepy, LARGE carpet snake that would have found his perfect resting place atop the ceiling beam. This was MOST off putting to a young child who then had to brave the spiders AND the (did I imagine) beady eye of the latest reptile!!??
My poor Dad (Eugene) who was a very kind, country man, was strongly encouraged to remove the said snake by Mum & all of us. To do this, he had to use the garden shears to pull it out by its tail and, heaven forbid: the Greenies of our present time will be horrified, in one quick ongoing motion, swing it around above his head and……….(oo-oh), smash its head on the trunk of our Queensland nut tree!! Poor snake; Dad must have hated doing this and I remember him sometimes trying to convince us that he could just release it, letting it go back to the creek bank. But we “City-slickers” would never let him do that.
You see our house was situated on the bank of Enoggera Creek, which in itself gave us, as children the best of times and the worst of times. So often, the summer rains would cause the creek to break its banks and we often had the creek rushing past right under our bathroom window. Afterwards, we would emerge to check how much land had been lost and whether Dad’s lovely slab timber BBQ table, seats and the river stone BBQ had survived. Naturally, he had built them close to the edge of our land, and hence, subject to every flood event. And then there was THE 1974 DELUGE/FLOOD.
I was 22 by then and was actually holidaying with a friend and her family, at their sugar farm adjoining the Tweed River in northern New South Wales. This recollection is what I remember from my sister, Sharon-lee’s description. Dad was trapped on Waterworks Road side of the now impassable bridge, when things became really threatening. Only Sharon-lee and Mum (Lorna), the 2 dogs and the cat were home, with the creek steadily rising. I guess Mum was trying to keep them all as calm as possible. So they actually tried to go to bed, remembering that the creek had NEVER, in the past, actually entered the house. Sometime during the night, the next-door neighbour knocked on the door to advise them to leave the house. Sure enough, the water was swirling around the top step! They managed to grab the 2 dogs and joined the neighbours, Mr and Mrs. Macdonald and their daughter, Joan, in their car. They all sat in the Macdonald’s car, in their PJ’s, in the rain, at the top of the road, watching, by the light of the street lights, the water rise. They watched as our station wagon, which had been parked as usual in the driveway, washed up against the large Swampy-Oak trees. When the water finally dropped, they returned in trepidation, to the house. Sharon-lee recalls that they didn’t think, in their anguished state, of the dangers of paddling through knee-deep water in the garden to reach the front door, let alone (she now
realises) when they turned on the lights to view the terrible damage. She tells of MUD EVERYWHERE, the terrible smell and anything not firmly attached to the floor, moved all over the place. We were luckier than so many poor souls during that time, as the water had only come to just below mattress-level. Flooring,
furniture, walls were severely affected and everything in cupboards up to about a height of 40cm, was lost. A dreadful time for so many, and I was always very, very nervous when it rained heavily, following that awful time. (P.S.Our lovely white, Persian cat managed to climb up on top of a cupboard, so it was fine.)
Another ‘event’ of my own making, was when I was a young adult in the early 1970’s and at this time there was no problem with burning off one’s paper rubbish, rather than depositing it in the one, smallish rubbish bin that was emptied weekly by the ‘Garbo’. I was home alone and doing some household chores, one of which was to empty the rubbish. Now, we had always been told to never leave a fire burning unwatched. AND THEN, the phone rang! What did a young adult to? Well, this one ran inside to answer the phone. It was my good friend from the previously mentioned sugar farm, and being young females, guess what we did? Chattered on and on, and on!! I completely forgot about the paper rubbish that I had started burning in Dad’s beaut BBQ. My attention was instantly brought back when I heard Mrs. Macdonald SHOUTING my name, calling me to come outside. I dropped the phone, ran through the house to look out the bathroom window and lo and behold, I had quite successfully set the whole creek bank on fire!! I ran back to the phone, QUICKLY explained my problem and cut off my aghast friend.
It was then that I heard the screaming of the fire brigade approaching. How embarrassing! Poor Mrs. Mac had rung for their help and was trying to hose her side of the fence, so that the garage would not catch on fire. She wasn’t impressed; gee, I wonder why?? You see, while I was happily on the phone, a slight wind had sprung up, and this combined with my inattention and with much long grass around, which would grow well in the summer floods, caused a nasty fire to take hold.
The “Firies” pulled up in a noisy truck in the park beside our house, leaped over the fence, unwinding hoses as they deployed. Before long, all was under control,
including our two dogs, that were almost as frantic as Mrs. Mac. Not to mention their efforts to bark lots, while intruders in suits with strange equipment ran around their/our backyard. I was given a stern lecture by the “Firies”, but due to my youth, my degree of anguish and embarrassment, not to mention my ‘good looks’, they left it at that. Mum and Dad were quick to admonish me, deservedly so, and warned that our family could have so easily been given a nasty fine. I was grateful and lucky, and learned a hard lesson that day. Anyone in the neighbourhood that was home that day, enjoyed the excitement I believe and all turned out well. At least the long grass had a much-necessary burn off!
