Expectations of a Tree Change

By Barry Stutsel

This is the memoir of a 77-year-old male, his heritage, his upbringing through the Depression and WWII years. A journey through his life, which included a major tree change that produced many obstacles and hurdles that were overcome by adopting a positive attitude.

It includes many anecdotes from his life as a publican of a small country hotel, his efforts to build a caravan park against all odds, and his experience as an elected councillor in the local shire.

There are not many tears, but there are a few good laughs. Included are many facts and incidents of historical significance.

• Language: English
• Publisher: ReadOnTime BV
• Release date: Sep 5, 2013
• ISBN: 9781742840963

Book preview

Expectations of a Tree Change

An Autobiographical Memoir

Barry Robert Stutsel

Expectations of a Tree Change

Smashwords Edition

Copyright © 2011 Barry Robert Stutsel

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

The information, views, opinions and visuals expressed in this publication are solely those of the author(s) and do not reflect those of the publisher. The publisher disclaims any liabilities or responsibilities whatsoever for any damages, libel or liabilities arising directly or indirectly from the contents of this publication.

A copy of this publication can be found in the National Library of Australia.

ISBN:  987-1-742840-96-3 (pbk.)

Published by Book Pal

www.bookpal.com.au

The older one gets time seems to pass so much quicker, it appears that we are trying to meet our demise in as short a time as possible, nothing could be further from the truth.

   BRS.

I dedicate this book to my wife Marilyn Jean (Anne) who without her support and dedication over the past 48 years this book would have remained a pile of empty pages.

I wish to thank the following for their assistance, advice and support in presenting these memoirs. Colin Munns(Mudgee U3A) Alison, Hugh and Amy Malligan (Grandchildren) Betty Lahey (Sister) Mathew Stutsel (Son) Beverly Stacey (Editing) Gerry Hennessy ,Jill Baggett, Ross Kurtz(Mudgee) Val and Stan Thatcher, my many Masonic friends, caravaners and campers, Hotel patrons and fossicking clubs of Australia.

INDEX

What Prompted Me?

In the Beginning

Paternal Grandparents

Early Encounters

Maternal Grandparents

War Years

Mumah-Dadah

Time with the Elders

School life

After school activities

Something unexpected

Starting Work

National Service

Burwood Brass Band

Introduction To Dance Music

Back to Work

Holidays

Mother

Father

More Jobs

It Had to Happen Sooner or Later

Back to Burwood

Becoming a Mason

Investments

Our First Move

New Horizons

The New Beginning

Keeping Warm.

Making New Friends

Let the Women in

Our First Promotion

Gold Gold Gold

Part of the Learning Curve

Getting Offside

Closer to Nature

A New Thunderbox

Diversification

Saving the Hall

Hotel Antics

Local Government

Getting Involved

What Next?

MSFFD: What Does It Mean?

Back to the PUB

The Temporary Bar

A Story about Gold

Greed a Terrible Asset

Back to the Hotel

Paper Work

Changes are Coming

The Children’s Progress

Settling in

Getting Ambitious

Towards Retirement

In Retirement

Medical Matters

Keeping Active

Chapter 1

What Prompted Me?

During the latter part of 2005 I was asked by a friend of mine if I would present a talk, on any one of my many travels throughout Australia, to a group of people who attended a regular class titled Arm Chair Travel, which ran in conjunction with an organisation called U3A (University of the Third Age).

I found the atmosphere most enjoyable and relaxing with the dozen or so who attended, the average age being close to my 72 years. A coffee break at half time was a great way of meeting new people of similar views and attitudes.

This meeting made me more aware of the great need for mental stimulation and, it was without hesitation that I accepted an offer to teach chess for two hours on the first and third Friday of the month during the school terms. I also enrolled in two classes, classical music and philosophy, and it was at one of these classes that I was invited to stand as a committee member at the forthcoming annual meeting. This I did and was elected, which eventually led to my being voted in to the position of program coordinator, just the job for a young 73-year-old.

The word university may appear to be a little misleading, so to put it into simpler terms, it’s an organisation of further learning for people over the age of 55 years. Its teachers, tutors and students are the members and classes run in conjunction with the state school curriculum and holidays. It is low cost, there are no exams or entry requirements, no presentations or homework, and has a wide range of subjects.

The reason for mentioning U3A so early in this biography is that it gave me the opportunity and confidence to join a class called Write your own story where its members come together on a monthly basis to compare their progress. This acts as a stimulus to us all by broadening our horizons and assisting our fading memories.

For many years I have attempted to start this venture, and it was quite by accident that I read an article in a Sydney newspaper in December 2008, that prompted me to make a positive move in this direction.

The article in question was about people who were born in the period of the great depression, namely 1929-1939.The crux of the story was that for people born during those years, they were destined to lead a reasonably charmed life. The reasons being, for the first five years of life you weren’t aware of the hardships of life your parents were going through as you were regularly fed, clothed and had a warm bed. The next five years took in WW11 and you were too young to be sent to war. This was followed by the years of reconstruction and learning and then you entered the work force, or may have had to do National Service (which did far more good than harm).You possibly got married and had children. Then you were too old for the Vietnam War. You were then employed enjoying three to four weeks of annual leave against your parents two weeks. You saw the introduction of superannuation, long service leave, the extension of sick leave, and you witnessed or partook in numerous medical procedures. You wouldn’t dream of buying a motor car that didn’t have power steering, air conditioning, navigational guides or other innovations too numerous to mention, computer technology has progressed so fast and is so widespread that even the experts find it hard to keep up. There are many other things that have developed way beyond our imagination but, above all, the life expectancy of the male has increased from 55years at the beginning of the last century to 79 years at the start of the current century.

After reading this article I felt my life to date fell into this time frame of 1929-2009 and indeed, I have enjoyed a charmed life.

Chapter 2

In the Beginning

I was born on 29 May 1934 at the Women’s Hospital in Paddington, Sydney at 7:20 a.m. There was nothing special or extraordinary about my arrival into this depressed world other than being a financial burden on my parents and a playmate to my sisters Dorothy who was eight-years-old (born 25 June 1926), Betty who was two-years-old (born 28 June 1932) and later a sparring partner to a brother Ken (born 21 August 1935). The only thing that comes to my mind that caused any concern to my parents was at the age of 18months I had a fall while running around the backyard of my first home at 33 Cowper Street, Campsie. I fell and hit the bridge of my nose on the upturned lid of the garbage bin. I must have had a dislike for my face for I was only 18 months older after my first major fall, I hit my forehead with a small hand pick while digging a hole to bury my brother. Needless to say, this exercise was a failure. I would like to mention now that it was those who were hardest hit by the depression that were the ones most likely to be paying rent. It was quite common for families to make many moves during the year, to rented properties they could afford.

Self at 18 months

Self at three years old at Guilford

When I was three we moved to a semi-detached house with a garage down the back, the address being 2 Seymour St, Croydon Park. We didn’t own a car so the garage became our cubby house. Our next door neighbours were the Donahues, but as their children were of working age we didn’t have much to do with them. They were always friendly and kind towards us.

The Sheldons who lived two doors up from us were an elderly couple who had a lot of time for us children. They had a son in his forties who was married, but he had no children. Much to our joy he owned a toy factory and he arranged to take us three children, with our parents′ consent, over there to Leichhardt in his motor car one Saturday afternoon. Up to this time of my life (a big four), it was to be my very first ride in a car. As a matter of fact, we didn’t even own a dinky, scooter or bike. The toys made at this factory were made of wood and painted various colours, and the strong smell of sawdust and thinners has left an everlasting memory in my mind of this ecstatic experience.

Life must have been loving and endearing to me for the first five years as I have never had any flashbacks or recollections of any abuse or cruelty, but I do remember my father only had to point to his belt supporting his enormous trousers as a warning against any misdemeanour.

Chapter 3

Paternal Grandparents

My father, Archibald, was of Irish/German descent, the youngest of 12 children and born on 26 December 1906 at Rozelle, Sydney. He spent most of his early life at Balmain, Roselle-Ultimo area inner suburbs on the western fringe of Sydney. The details of my fathers’ father are very scant and from my many enquiries I have come to the conclusion he was illegitimate, possibly of an English mother and German father. He was named Joseph George Stutzel when born inSouth Hampton, England in 1862. When he was old enough he was put to sea as a marine fireman-seaman where he eventually jumped ship in Sydney in 1883. He must have had a liking for the place because he took up permanent employment as a fireman-seaman with one of the east coast shipping companies.

The details of my paternal grandmother are more authenticated than that of her future husband. She was born Edith on 10 March 1867 to William McManus, 1843-1904, and Mary Quinn at Mohall County Leitrim, North Ireland. She was to be company for her siblings Mary Jane, Ellen and William George. Edith, who was later known as Elizabeth, was soon to lose her mother through an unrecorded sickness. Her father William married Jane Morris in 1874 and they had four children – Martha, James, Thomas and Joseph, the latter being born in Sydney in 1886.

Through reasons known only to William and Jane they decided to migrate to Sydney, Australia. With their expanding family, they left Plymouth on 18 May 1882. They boarded the Orontes, a three masted sailing ship, under the control of a Captain Bain. The Surgeon Superintendent was C. H. Gibson, the Matron was known as Miss Chicken. The ship arrived in Sydney on 19 August 1882 after 93 days at sea. During the voyage there were nine births and four deaths. I cannot comprehend the possible difficulties that William and Jane would have encountered on that journey. Controlling and entertaining a family in such a small backyard, which was being tossed to and fro according to the whims and fancies of Mother Nature, must have been horrendous. What a relief it must have been to eventually sail through the Sydney heads.

Elizabeth at 80 years

Joseph George Stutsel. B 1862 – D 4-02-1913

When she arrived in Sydney, 15-year-old Elizabeth was given a job at Pyrmont with the Orbach family whom she met on the voyage out from Plymouth. They must have been very impressed with her attitude to offer her such a position of trust, although Joseph allegedly knew the Orbach’s back in England.

.Elizabeth (Edith) McManus 47, B 10-03-1867 D11-1-57.

How and when Joseph and Elizabeth met is anyone’s guess. Whatever the circumstances, they courted and then married on 25 October 1885 at St Luke’s Church on Sussex St, Sydney (demolished in 1908), Elizabeth was 18 and Joseph was 24. They settled down somewhere in the suburb of Roselle, finally moving to 454 Jones St, Ultimo. The children born from the union are as follows:

Left to Right: David, Betty, Jack, Elizabeth Twyman, George, Molly, Jim, Archibald. Taken on the occasion of Elizabeth’s 80th Birthday 10-03-1947 at Carrington Street, Guildford

From this list it’s not hard to see that three of the children died within the first year of their lives and two died in their early twenties. William dying from the Bubonic Plaque and Alice from consumption leaving a three-year-old daughter Nona to be raised by her Aunties Molly and Betty, David who was three years older than my father spent most of his life in various institutions. I was never told but it didn’t take much working out that he had some mental disorder, however I was told by my father that his mother never failed to visit David once a week right up to his death in 1950 at the age of 47 years.

For reasons not known to me, my grandparents anglicised their surname from Stutzel to Stutsel some time during 1890.

My paternal grandmother was forced to face another catastrophe in her turbulent life and that was the suicide of her husband Joseph on3 February 1913. I was never privy to the reason of this calamity, but I was told that he drank a bottle of Lysol (a heavy duty type of disinfectant) at Cabbage Tree Beach, Manly. He was buried on 6 February at Rookwood Cemetery where his young daughter Maggie was already interned.

Good fortune finally caught up with Elizabeth, for soon after Joseph’s death she met and later married Henry John Twyman at St Barnabas Church of England in Sydney, on 6 January 1917. Henry already had two sons, Harry and Len. Harry became very close to my father being of similar age. Len spent most of his life as a missionary in New Guinea. Henry, who was born on 29 May 1867 in Kent, England, was also a seaman-fireman and no doubt a friend of Joseph’s. He died on 30 November 1928. From all accounts he was very caring and loving to Elizabeth and at all times a gentleman of high morals.

My father Archibald spent his school years at Roselle Public School 1911-1920. He once told me that out of a class of 50 children he came in last on one of his exams, but his teacher, seeing his disappointment at such a poor effort, tried to console him saying it took 49 children to beat him. This comment built up his spirits.

On leaving school Archibald’s first job was a junior assistant in the advertising and window dressing section of Anthony Hordens on George Street in Sydney. This store achieved the glorious title of the largest department store in the world. While Arch was working there he met Phyllis Maude Sackett, a fellow employee, whom he courted and married on 13 February 1926 at the Burwood Court House. They then resided with Phyllis’s parents at 43 Croydon Ave, Croydon Park.

On leaving Anthony Hordens in late 1926, Archibald worked for Stewart’s Buses as a driver-mechanic. This bus company was situated on Parramatta Road, Burwood where the present government buses still operate. In 1931 when the government of the day took over the private bus services he was retrenched and was on the dole for the next six years working part time at Bridge and Cooks River Concrete Construction. During these depression years Arch and Phyllis had three more children Betty June born 28 June 1932, myself, Barry Robert born 29 May 1934 and Kenneth born 21 August 1935, Dorothy having been born 25 June 1926.

Archibald pictured far right, with a Pratt & Whitney 14cylinder twin wasp aero engine prior to testing at CAC (1943)

In 1937 Arch was offered the position of foreman at the Haymarket Service Station, which he held until 1942. From here he was called up by the manpower (government) to work as an engine fitter at the newly established Commonwealth Aircraft Corporation (CAC), Burnie Ave in Lidcombe. After being declared unfit for active service during WWII, Arch remained with CAC until 1970 when he retired from the work force and went on the aged pension.

In the latter part of 1974 Arch suffered a massive stroke that immobilised him. Due to its severity it became impossible to care for him at home, despite the many aids installed to suit his situation. Consequently, he was admitted and cared for at the Lidcombe Hospital for aged men.

During his active life Arch was a tireless and dedicated member of the Independent Order of Odd Fellows, a friendly society that offered health and funeral benefits. He also spent a lot of his last 10 working years with the Croydon Park Australian Rules Club and was supportive of their cricket teams.

There was one thing that impressed me with my parents and that was the fact that the friends they made early in their married lives remained good friends forever. I felt they were all members of our extended family.

Chapter 4

Early Encounters

Sometime between the ages of four and five I had my first female encounter. My mother, on her way back home from shopping, called into a neighbour to have a chat. I was asked to go out in the backyard and play with their three-year-old daughter Elaine who was not backward in coming forward. During the course of our playing, she decided she wanted to do a wee. So, without hesitation, she lifted up her dress, tucked it under her arm, dropped her pants and as she was standing right in front of me squatted down on the lawn and did her wee. I stood there absolutely bewildered because she had no penis and when I told her that she asked me what’s a penis? So I dropped my pants and showed her what a penis looked like. At that moment we vowed never to tell our mothers, there is a difference between little girls and little boys, a vow I have kept to this day.

The first major event for me to conquer in life was starting school and surprisingly I do remember it. This event took place in January 1939 at the kindergarten section of Croydon Park Public School. My mother walked me down Seymour Street, then Georges River Road to the infant school entrance. The kindergarten was a long rectangular building with a covered in veranda on the northern end that housed hooks to hold our bags and clothes and there were eight taps and hand basins also. Inside the main building there were many small tables, chairs and an abundance of shelves supporting numerous books. This was the start of my academic life and the foundation of my life’s future. While my mother was talking to the head teacher, I wondered over to one of these tables, which had many books strewn all over it, and I selected one to read. The rest of the books I stacked in a neat and tidy pile. On seeing my actions the teacher told my mother, your son is a born organiser and likes to have things in an orderly fashion. So it was no surprise when the head teacher advised me on my arrival at school the next day that I was appointed the first assistant librarian. This action gave me an interest in books for the rest of my life.

Croydon Park Public School 1941.Self back row 4th from right.

One other thing that has adhered in my mind over all these years was the lunch my mother prepared for me. It was customary when the lunch bell rang you would go out to the playground and sit on one of the many long low seats beside the school fence, or take a seat under a shady tree. This being my first lunch at school, I was curious to know what my new-found friends had on their sandwiches. Maybe they may like to swap with me. Alas, the answer was no, for they couldn’t see any value in my melon and lemon jam sandwiches and it didn’t take long for me to work out that only the real poor children had melon and lemon sandwiches. Despite the fact that my father was in full time employment, I couldn’t help but feel that we were in the poor category. When my mother made my sandwiches, she would wrap them up in greaseproof paper and put them in a paper bag (no plastics in those days).When I had finished my lunch, I was instructed by my mother to fold up the paper and bag and bring them home so they would last the full week. Now for some reason that really made me think we were very poor, so to this very day when I receive something in a paper bag I empty it of its contents, fold it up and take it home.(Waste not, want not.)

Chapter 5

Maternal Grandparents

I would like to digress for a moment and give an account of my maternal grandparents, which requires me to return to England from where they originated.

Robert Moffat Sackett(born 19 April 1880) from Kent was my maternal grandfather and the son of a congregational minister. His mother was Elizabeth Lee who was a cousin to Robert Edward Lee (of America Civil War fame) whose family had migrated to America many years earlier.

My maternal grandmother was Susan Maude Oliver (born 28 June 1879) in East Ham Essex. Her father was a carpenter and her mother bore two more daughters, Minnie and Lillian, and two sons, Morley and James.

Robert and Susan married at West Ham Essex on 7 October 1905 and resided at 34 Hatherley Garden, South East Ham Essex .On 27 September 1909, Phyllis Maude, my mother was born and nine years later her brother Robert Lee was born on 14 October to complete the family unit. Looking towards a new life after the rampages of WW1 they decided to migrate to Australia and as a result of that decision arrived in Sydney on the ship Orsova on 21 July 1920 where they rented a house at 43 Croydon Ave, Croydon.

Chapter 6

War Years

As I progressed at school, so did WWII progress in Europe, but to a six-year-old who was only learning to read there was little I could glean from the daily papers. It wasn’t until I noticed hoardings being erected around the shop windows and deep trenches being dug in the