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Charles Woodhouse | Allan Woodhouse

CHARLES EDWARD WOODHOUSE

21/2/1899 – 12/04/1947 

The Ramblings of a Country Boy
Allan W Woodhouse

My Father, Charles Edward Woodhouse, was born on the 21st February, 1899, the child of William and Caroline (Wellsmore), in the small town of Adaminaby, situated at the foothills of the Snowy Mountains. Much sadness enveloped the family in 1902, when Caroline died within a few weeks of giving birth to their seventh child, Elizabeth Ellen, who was to be raised by a family friend, an Amy Whiteman. Unable to have children of her own, Mrs. Whiteman was instrumental in assisting to raise a further five children for local families.

My mother, Lillia (Allan) was born in 1897, on the 6th. October, in Warren, which is situated in central west of New South Wales. Her parents were Ernest and Alice Allan, from around the Bathurst area.

William was left with six young children, all under the age of ten years. It was his decision to take in an housekeeper. Her name was Mabel Blanche Fletcher, who had a baby girl, Rita, born the same year, 1902. William and Mabel. were married in 1904, and, within a further six years another five children were born - all boys, although, one died the same year of his birth, Joseph, in 1907.

There was now a family of ten children, of which the eldest, James, was only eighteen, followed by Thomas, 17, and, Florence ( later called Aunty Florrie) the eldest daughter, was 15 years of age. The boys were able to supplement the family's income by obtaining outside employment.

These members eased the burden of household duties, but, it still left six young children ranging in ages down to a few months, for Mabel to contend with, along with the assistance of Millicent (Aunty Millie), who was 14.

It was at this time that my father, Charles, was sent to work with the Taylor Family, who had two stations just outside of Nimmitabel. Dad was only ten years of age, and, Henry Taylor promised William that they would treat Dad like a member of the family.

This they did.

The two properties, "Bell View" and "Shirley", were adjacent to one another on the road to Bombala. Dad remained with the Taylor Family for many years, and, at one period even managed one of their stations, out in the central west of New South Wales.

One of the Taylor boys, Everard (Ev) married a young lass from Sydney, a Miss Hilda Allan, in 1915. Hilda had a younger sister, Lillia, who used to visit the property for holidays. On each occasion, Charles Woodhouse was invited to dinner, most probably to make up the even numbers.

(Ernest and Alice Allan, and, family, may have lived in the Nimmitabel area, as another daughter, Isobel, was, also, married in the town, to an Albert Thornton. Also, their baby son, Jack, who was not much older than 12 months, died in Cooma, in 1914.)

This, of course, led to romance, and, on the 2nd. March, 192 1, Charles and Lillia were married, in the Church of England Church, Seaforth, Sydney, near Manly, where the bride's family now lived. They returned to Nimmitabel where they raised a family of two girls and two boys. The first born was Alice, in 1922, Hilton arrived next, in 1925, while 1, (Allan) came on the scene in 1930. Three years later Nalda arrived to even out the family.

Where they lived and what employment was involved is not known, but, in the 1930's Charles was self employed as a general carrier, in the township. Many a time I can recall going with Dad out to different stations picking up loads of wool (I can still smell the lanoline on the floors of the woolsheds, caused by the wool shorn from the sheep, and, the smell of the wool bales on the back of the truck), of loading wood for local towns people for their fires, or getting loads of loam, obtained on land near Thistleton's property.

And meeting the train, down at the station, for the mail and/or parcels. These are wonderful memories. Piper's Coach Service, from Cooma, would meet passengers who wished to travel down to the coast, via Bega, by way of the infamous Brown Mountain.

Also, the town was much bigger. A row of shops down one side of the street, starting with McKee's Garage, then Con's Milk Bar followed by a large general store ( was it Hayes?) where every Wednesday people from outlying districts used to come into town for their weekly provisions, and, a "yap" There was, also, a butcher shop, too, I think. There was always great activity. Some people came to town on horseback, others by sulky, or the rare motor vehicle.

Opposite McKee's was a little mixed business, which is still there, conducted by my Mother. Not much has changed, on this side of the street, over the years.

Further down the opposite side of street, were houses. In one of these lived a Mrs. Buckley, who was the school teacher up to fourth class. For the higher classes it was a Mr. Maloney, the Principal. He lived in the house, provided, next to the school. He had 5th., 6th. and 7th. classes (first year high school, with only one student, Ivan Evans).

School was quite good to me. Always prominent in the top three at exam time.

Sport was my favourite, with football (rugby league) and cricket the main two, although, tennis was popular with everyone, including adults of the town. Many of today's popular sports, such as basketball, base ball, and net ball were all unheard of.

Of course, owning a bike was every child's dream. Money was scarce. Not many families were able to offer their children such a luxury, so, children had to involve themselves in sport which did not entail too much cost. Horse riding was, also, popular, and, most children knew someone who owned a horse that they could ride.

Brother Hilton owned a young pony, of "dun" colour with silvery mane. He was called "Taffy", and, I remember riding him, bare back, from the railway station, across the common, up the bill to the mill, into Boyd street.

We all had to wear sandshoes for general wear, as well as for sport. Leather shoes were very expensive, and most families just could not afford to buy them. When in fifth class, one of the older boys, Ivan Evans, left school, and, gave me his football boots - the only pair in the school. THANKS, Ivan. When about six or seven, I was the town's football team's mascot.

George King was the coach, and the team included Abbey Payton, later the "mine host" of the Tudor Inn. My brother and I last saw George out at Randwick Racecourse, in the early 1950's, where he was acting as a Bookmaker's clerk, as bag man.

Many other things come to mind of my early years in Nimmitabel. Like going to check on rabbit traps my brother, Hilton, had set the day before. He left me at a spot while he checked on others, Being only about seven years old, time, to me, seemed much longer than it really was, and, with tears streaming down my face I headed for home. How I got home I don't know to this very day, as we appeared to be a fair way out of town.

Other memories include walking to school, with both older sister, Alice, and with Hilton, and being attacked by magpies. We lived on the Cooma road, next door to where the Morrisey Family lived (the night cart man) which is now by-passed by the new road into town

It was in my first few days of starting school. We had to walk across the common, behind where the Bourkes used to live, up the hill to the school. It was a terrifying experience for a "big boy" now going to school, and, leaving the loving care of his mother.

Another unpleasant experience, again, with my brother, while he was "doubling" me on the cross bar of his bicycle, down the main street, outside the School of Arts, my foot became entangled in the front wheel, and, we both went flying over the handle bars of the bike. No damage - only the loss of a little skin.

I must have been an energetic young lad, always running, jumping or climbing. Once, when about five or six, I went with my father down to the abattoirs, playing, with a friend (possibly Jacky Pratt, who was my best friend), jumping over a ram's head lying in the ground, outside the building. When I failed to jump high enough, Dad had to dash me into Cooma to have a doctor stitch a wound underneath my groin. No permanent damage was done, and, I was comforted with a glass of sarsparilla and lemonade, at Dodd's Hotel.

On another occasion, I was climbing a heap of firewood when my foot slipped and, a splinter, about six to eight inches long, entered my leg beside my knee. We had moved, by this time, into a house in Boyd street, opposite the old mill. Mum dashed me over to the Bush Nursing Home, where Sister Wildon, the Matron, swiftly extricated the offending "log".

I recall, the only time I received the cane at school was when Mr. Maloney called in every pupil for being involved in a snow fight. We all lined up, and, each of us received one "cut" right across the finger tips. We all learned our lesson!!

Prior to the Second World War, horse racing was only held on Saturdays, and, one day during the week, Wednesday, mainly for "pony " races. These were horses around 14.2 bands, and, were run over shorter distances of 4, 5 and 6 furlongs. These races were held in Sydney, at courses at Moorefields, Rosebery and, Ascot, which were sold after the war for residential housing estates. Local races were held very rarely. One of my favourites was a "pony" called "Dewar", which won many races, and, mainly in heavy going. Every Wednesday, I would rush home from school, and, have my ear glued to the radio listening to the races. 

Other times, we had radio serials, both in the mornings for ladies, and, generally, after 5pm, for children, to keep them amused while mothers prepared the evening meal. These included "Search for the Golden Boomerang", and, "Jason and the Argonaughts", and, "Biggles", the air ace. At night time we had radio programmes suitable for all the family. Shows such as "Yes, What!", "Mrs. 'Obbs". A favourite of the housewives was "When a Girl Marries". "A story of a woman in love, and, for those who can remember " were the words of its introduction. Other great favourites were on Sunday nights, when we enjoyed the never-to-be-missed, very popular "Amateur Hour" and the Lux Radio Theatre.

Electricity didn't come to Nimmitabel until after the Snowy Mountains Hydro Scheme was completed in the 1950's, which meant, in my younger days, radio power was by batteries, lighting by kerosene lamps, and heating from the fuel (wood) stove or fireplace. We had our baths in tubs, in water heated by the laundry fuel copper, usually in front of the fuel stove. Especially in winter, when it can, and, often, snowed. Mum was keen on singing, and, often sang while, and after, bathing me in front of the hot stove fire.

The family had many outings, such as at Christmas time when we would all go to the south coast at Tathra, near Bega, and camp. With us were Mum and Dad's best friends, the Tozer family - Fred, his wife Myrtle, and, their children, Bruce and Neville (Nugget). Their daughter, Margaret, may not have been on the scene at this stage. Dad had a fairly big truck, and, with four poles, one in each comer of the tray, covered by a large tarpaulin, allowed everyone to sleep under cover, on the back.

On another occasion, when the weather was very hot, the family, with a lot of friends, headed for the banks of the Kybean River. This was a very unusual occurrence as, although, the weather can be very hot, it was on very limited occasion that we went swimming, as men could not afford to take time off from work. Naturally, many of us weren't used to baring our bodies in the sun. As usual, the one that would get into trouble more often than anyone else, suffered very badly from sunburn. I suffered for quite a number days.

At the bottom of our house was a laneway which separated us from the police station and its grounds, with its stables. Mr. McKeachie was the officer in charge. He and his wife had a couple of children, with whom I was very friendly. Even though I was suffering from the sunburn, their son (I think his name was Bruce) and I decided to ride one of his father's horses. I don't know what caused the problem, but, when it came my turn to have a ride, no sooner was I in the saddle, than the horse began to buck and pig-root. I didn't feel much pain while the horse was bucking, but, I certainly felt it later.

At the bottom of our yard, Dad built a "chook" pen. I remember Mum asking me to kill one of the fowls. We had a sawn off stump of a tree, in the back yard. Holding the poor creature in one hand, I flipped the bird's head on to the stump, and, brought down the axe across its neck, with the other. After the head of the creature was dislodged, the body kept "flailling" around. I could now more understand the saying "running around like a chook with its head chopped off."

I remember, sometime in the mid 1930's, of an overseas marching band entertaining the people of Nimmitabel. I think they came from Canada, and, they looked resplendent in their white, with gold braiding, uniforms.

An unusual thing happened to me when about eight years of age. I had to go and buy an item at the haberdashery shop, which was next to the vacant block between it and the post office. The lady who owned the shop, asked me "how long had I been stuttering ?" I couldn't answer her. My mind became an absolute blank. I didn't know for how long. Up to that moment, what had happened in my life was an absolute blank. It was an amazing feeling. Stuttering is a burden I have had to carry all my life. It stopped me doing many things. I dreaded facing strangers, making speeches, applying for jobs, and, much, much more, and, yet, I was able to obtain very good positions all my working life. At all. times, I had responsible, executive positions, from Advertising Manager, of the only five days a week suburban newspaper in Australia, "The Manly Daily", to office manager/sales manager in real estate offices, and, owning my own Real Estate Office. I was fortunate, to win a number of awards, in selling and promotional work. All these positions involved meeting people from all walks of life but, they drained me. I constantly had to control my breathing by relaxing my whole body, or taking a big breath and speaking in one continual sentence. Many people would have been unaware of my affliction.

Our Nimmitabel neighbours were the Huggetts. The father worked on the Sydney train that ran up to Bombala, together with a Mr. Comer. They were the driver and fireman of the train.

War was declared, by England, against Germany, on the 3rd. September, 1939. It was a Sunday. I remember it well. Germany had invaded Poland and Austria a few months earlier. England's Prime Minister, Neville Chamberlain, held many meetings with Adolph Hitler, and, his ministers, hoping to reach a satisfactory solution. Hitler and his entourage wouldn't listen. England and France, along with Holland and BeIguirn, known as the Allies, went to war. Mr. Robert Menzies, then Australia's prime minister, came on the radio to inform that Australia, with New Zealand, South Africa, Canada, India, and many other nations which formed the British Empire, was now "at war " with Germany. All able-bodied men were called up, by the Australian Government, for active service. Those who were medical unfit, or too old, were called upon by a new Governmnent body, known as the Manpower Department, and, conscripted into essential services. My father, at 41, was required to work in a parachute factory, at Tocurnwal, on the New South Wales and Victoria border.

Many men came from the surrounding areas, including down the coast as far a field as Bega, Tathra and Pambula to join the services. After completing their initial training, they were sent home for their Final Leave before embarking for overseas duty. Nimmitabel was where these soldiers used to catch the train to take them back to Sydney to their bases. Before boarding the train, the servicemen were entertained by the local ladies with afternoon tea, and dancing, at the local School of Arts. Many of those brave men did not return home from active service. They served in all theatres of the different campaigns- the Middle East, Europe and in later years were brought back to fight the Japanese in the Pacific, after December, 194 1. These included Papua New Guinea, on the famous Kokoda Track, where they were able to stop the invading Japanese, and, finally pushed them back into the sea.

America had declared war on the Japanese after they had bombed the American naval base at Pearl Harbour, Hawaii, on December 7, 194 1, and, then Germany, thus making the Allies much stronger. Australia was in fear of being invaded after Singapore fell to the enemy, in February, 1942.

Two of my cousins, children of one of my mother's brother, were sent to us on the outbreak of the war in the Pacific, as there was a fear that Sydney could be invaded by the fast approaching Japanese army. Gwen and Don Allan were about my age, and, we got on pretty well.

During my father's duration at Tocurnwal, he became ill. He was diagnosed with a kidney disease, which necessitated the family selling up and moving to Sydney for Dad's medical treatment. We arrived in Balgowlah, a suburb between Manly and Seaforth, to live in a two bedroorn flat, in January, 1943.

 Submitted by Allan Woodhouse  <alglo10-at-gmail.com>