Rear View Mirror: Hornsby 5/5

Final look back at Hornsby. When we left Hornsby in the December of 1956, the eastern side of the railway line was all private housing, with just the odd corner shop scattered here and there, like the one my Grandma ran. On the western side of the railway line there was a triangle of retail outlets along the Pacific Highway, Coronation St, and Station St. However, that triangle is now a decomposing embarrassment. Once Westfield came along in 1961 and overwhelmed the eastside, the west was a goner.

Two nowadays shots here showing what is left of our magical walk to school. Barry and I walked across the old pedestrian railway crossing - now replaced by an abomination albeit more functional - either around or through the shops on the triangle (around on the way TO school and THROUGH an arcade on the way HOME). We never had money to spend, but we had a lot of imaginative fun, with sticks, and baddies, and shortcuts. But that has all gone. There is no way I would let my grand-daughters walk that route to and from school.

No need to worry about that anyway, because the school that I went to (Hornsby Infants showing me front row second from left) was burnt down one Saturday in November 1957 when a raging bushfire stormed up the valley at the back of the school. The mixed Infants school was cinders, the girls primary school was cinders, and the girls 'home economics' high school (up to 3rd form only) was cinders. On the eastern side of the highway the boys primary, and the boys high school was each saved. My father had gone to both of those from 1931, and Barry was in Grade 5 before we left for our incredibly great/foolhardy adventure in the country.

Rear view mirror: Hornsby (2/5)

This was my home from the age of 1 until I was just over 8. The sale notice recorded with Hornsby Shire Council, indicates that my father sold it to a poultry farmer from Galston for £3,360 having paid less than £1,000 for it 7 years earlier. I say 'less than' because my notes indicate that Mum reckons they paid £300, whereas Dad reckons they paid £1,000. That was there level of agreement on most things, I hasten to add. This house stood upon land 50' wide and 165' deep (about 766 m2) with vehicular access via a rear laneway. The lane also provided a quick and safe getaway up to Grandma's shop. And look at the block of land now. Bloody Westfield.

Rear view mirror - Hornsby (1/5)

At least through Hitchcock's "Rear Window" one is observing reality, because through my rear-view mirror, I am only observing a representation of reality.

This old photograph was taken in 1920 which was ten years before my grandmother bought the goodwill for 70 pounds, only managing to scrape together the wherewithall for the property during the late thirties when the two older boys could contribute. My grandparents lived in Florence Street, Hornsby from 1931 until August 1956. I loved this old place, with its massive camphorlaurels in the front, that gave it a most Boo Radley aire, although I would not have had that thought at the time.

So, what happened when Mr Westfield gave the place any number of makeovers from 1961 onwards? Here is a close approximation of that same view just two weeks ago. My, what 93 years can wrought!

Decisions, decisions

This is the straight-out-of-camera version of yesterday's photograph.

My contribution to the Your Sunday Best community.

Chanelling Harold Cazneaux

Many of you will realise that not everything converts to black and white successfully. Finding a suitable image this week was a challenge. And I am not sure I rose to meet that challenge.

So, a pigeon pair. Today the black and white, cropped version. Tomorrow, the straight-from-the-camera version.

This is my contribution to the Weekend in Black and White community.

This is my contribution to the Weekend Reflections community.