Then & Now: Holtermann (3/5)

This is the vicarage of Christ Church, Lavender Bay, a church of the Anglican Communion. The church itself was built in 1872, but it was surrounded by trees and, at this stage in my walk, I lacked the energy to think laterally. So, here is a nice shot prepared earlier - by someone else.

It is a beautiful 'campus', in an ideal setting. Once again, I link you to Holtermann's Panorama and you will find Christ Church on the border between Panels 4 and 5. You can see the vicarage. It is totally within Panel 5, and in the immediate foreground. To end today, here is a non-Holtermann gem, to put all this into perspective. This shot is from the State Library of NSW, and is post-1875. It is taken from Milsons Point looking up the Lavender Bay ridge. Christchurch is there, towards the right hand side, midway up the ridge, with a lot of upside down Vs in its design.

Then & Now: Holtermann (2/5)

So, this is the fabulous mansion YOU might choose to build should you become fabulously wealthy by digging up a humungous chunk of reef gold out Hill End way.

This is the front of St Peter's Presbyterian Church and manse immediately below Holtermann's mansion, which is now an unrecognisable part of Shore Grammar School, with its photography tower all bricked up. Bayliss and Holtermann, of course, only got the rear of any building facing the harbour, which they nearly all face in that part of the North Shore.

The Holtermann Panorama is not an easy experience for a novice like me to present to you. This first link has a still representation of the panorama on page 4. I have not been able to locate a digital version of each of the 14 individual images which comprise the panorama. However, The National Gallery of Australia, in Canberra, has available online, an interactive view of Holtermann's Panorama. My photograph of St Peter's Presbyterian Church and manse can be seen in images 2 and 3, in the immediate foreground.

Then & Now: Holtermann (1/5)

To take his image, Charles Bayliss went up to the top of the specially constructed tower atop the North Sydney mansion of Bernard Otto Holtermann. This image is not part of the fabled panorama, but was taken five years later in about 1880. That large, black boat in the centre of Bayliss' image, would be about to go under the harbour bridge in my image. Milsons Point is centre left, and line of sight nips the black boat on its way over to Dawes Point. Bennelong Point, where the Opera House now stands, is centre image background. Archivists at the State Library of NSW had long known about Holtermann and his photographic excursions, but had no examples of his work, or of that of Charles Bayliss and Beaufoy Merlin, who were both employed by Holtermann. In the early 1950s two of the archivists took it into their head to visit Holtermann's daughter, very aged and living further up the north shore in Chatswood. They had lovely tea and cakes, and the old dear chatted on so, but she had nothing of any note. As she showed them out the side gate, she remembered she had not shown them the back shed. Needing clippers and spades to work their way through the undergrowth, they eventually shoved the door aside to reveal boxes and boxes of glass plate negatives, none of them identified. With permission, they were eventually taken away, and the long and laborious task of preservation and identification began.

Taken prior to 1955, the sepia photograph in this post is out of copyright. I sourced it from the National Library of Australia

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 4/5

The Salvation Army Hall was right on that corner, beneath all those ugly signs. You can just see the back of our house on the RHS. It was fun living beside the Sallies. Every Sunday evening - I think Sunday but I could be mistaken - they would march down the centre of Hunter Street behind their brass band with the bloke in front twirling his doohickey. It was great to watch, and they appreciated our pleasure. We would stand on the brick ledge wall on the front verandah, swinging around the post when it was our turn, politely clapping. No cheering, jeering or whistling in those days. We would not have thought of it, and our parents would never, ever have sanctioned it! Obviously, this building has been demolished for the greater good, as well. The Sallies moved to premises further down Burdett St.

Rear View Mirror: Hornsby (3/5)

Cannot provide exact "Then'n'now" shots for Albert Lane, as most of the lane is beneath (blasted) Westfield. This top shot has an element of gratuity to it.This is my father on his Panther motor-bike at the end of 1942. He was a despatch rider in the Signals Corp, and was posted to New Guineau in the Autumn 0f 1943. The backyard he ius sitting in is Grandma's backyard, the shop that I featured on Monday. The shop is immediately behind the photographer.Florence Street is the right-hand fence, and the rear fence (which runs through the centre of the photo) is along Albert Lane. That gate over Dad's shoulder was nearly always open, and we shot in any time of the day or night.

This is what the remaining bit of Albert Lane looks like today. Too clean and elegant looking for mine. It is essentially a service lane although the suburb is now sewered, and was then from memory. The two black'n'white shots that follow are actually taken in Albert Lane at the rear of OUR property. The loaded truck was taken in 1950, and the Holden plus caravan was taken in 1953. Dad used to collect offcuts of lumber from anywhere and saw them and nail them until he had a load of seedling boxes to bring in a few quid. Note me and my big bro in the cab. The Holden was Dad's pride and joy. He walked down to Lindfield one Saturday to haggle over price with the bloke who owned the showroom, until the bloke agreed to just the amount of cash Dad had in his pocket. Dad made the caravan himself in his spare time. From memory it never quite got finished before we moved to the country in '56. But he flogged that, too, and made a few more quid.

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!

Life on the ocean waves

He married, he died, and in between, he fathered children. But he was never born, at least not according to the records I have consulted. His parents and his two older brothers arrived in Port Jackson 13 May, 1839, as Bounty Migrants aboard 'The Spartan', which departed Falmouth 22 February, 1839. Christopher is not on the passenger list, nor is he recorded on the New South Wales 'BDM' data-base. Perhaps, he stood on Platform 9¾ and whistled. His father, John, is my 3rd great-grandfather on my mother's side.

A leap into the unknown

The old General Section, Botany Cemetery