as this is a long post, I've marked the the funny or shocking stories in a different colour green
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My dad, Jack, used to tell great stories of his boyhood and early life at washing up time, and when Karin asked me to write them down I could only think of a couple and thought, what a shame that dad didn't write them down for us.
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Dad worked from the age of 14 in 1921 when he left school. As a boy, dad was in the Scouts and his Scout Master was one of the Macarthur-Onslowes (descended from Macarthur, the sheep man). I recollect, Dad got the sack from the Scouts when he jumped through an oil painting the Scout Master had purchased and brought with him to the Scout Meeting!
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Dad went to work at the grocery shop in Camden as a general hand, stocking shelves and delivering goods by horse and cart. He was delivering eggs and groceries one day, when he had a race in the horse and cart with another delivery boy, when the horses bolted and Dad's horse tried to go through a narrow gate and crashed, there were smashed eggs and groceries all over the place. Dad had to sit on the horse's head to stop it thrashing around, as it was all tangled in the harness. The horse had to be destroyed.
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Another time, Dad and one of the other grocery boys, set up a huge rotten potato abouve the soreroom door in order to have a joike on anohter grocery boy who was due to enter the storeroom - instead the Boss came in and copped the rotten potato on his noggin!
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Dad later joined the Bank of NSW (now Westpack) and eventually retired early from the Bank in about 1961. He then worked for Goldfields in Gold Fields House at Circular Quay for ten years. After which he worked in the stores and stationery section of an insurance company for some more years, practically until his death at 81.
Dad was also a courier taking banking documents from bank to bank in Sydney (on foot). As well as this, he gained employment as a Paymaster at on of the big companies. Jack was never out of a job.
We moved 'round every 7 years or so, with the Bank my father Jack worked in (now Westpac), living at West Wyalong, Katoomba and Kandos. Dad was a really quiet and gentle man with a great sense of humour. He served in the 2nd World War as a bombardier on bofors guns in Morotai and Balik Papan (Borneo).
There is a Memorial Plaque to Dad on the headland at Caloundra, which I had dedicated tohis memory near the Centaur Memorial.
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My earliest memories begin at West Wyalong, where I went to Primary School We lived in Gladstone Street. I remember a rabbit plague when there were just rabbits everywhere, under every bush and tuft of grass there were rabbits. We used to walk to school and hit the rabbits out of the way with a stick. I recall seeing rabbit trappers with their horse and cart with rabbits hanging off it everywhere. I later did a painting of this.
I also remember walking to school with an old tennis racquet beating grasshoppers (locusts) out of the way during another plague.
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When i was big enough I ended up with a bicycle and I used to ride it behind Dad when he rode to work and I rode to school. One morning we were riding in the main street when I spotted a bank note on the ground. I skidded to a stop and picked it up yelling "Dad, Dad, I've found a ten pound note!" He came back and told me to shush and whenwe got to Dad's bank we examined the note and found it was only a ten shilling (10/ -) note - still, not bad. Dad put it in my bank account.
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There was an open-air theatre at Wyalong and I used to go to the Saturday Matinee to see Gene Autry and Roy Rogers in old westerns. I think it was threepence to get in!
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Kennedy's Corner Shop was not far from our place and Mum tells me that when I was little she sat me on the counter and I pulled an expensive set of shop scales off the counter and smashed them on the floor.
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Mrs Akehurst lived across the back lane and she had a ne'er-do-well son called George and a quarrian which could whistle heaps of tuns and talk - it was called Georgie.
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I remember Dad used to work at the West Wyalong Cordial Factory (Marshall's) in his holidays.
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There was an old lady who lived in a shack down the end of Gladstone Street who wore rages and no shoes - us little kids used to follow her along the street singing 'Put your shoes on Lucy, don't you know you're in the city' - cruel.
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A little girl, Janet Lloyd lived across the lane at the back. I used to play with her. She died of mengingitis when she was about 5.
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We have a blue cattle dog for a while, but it bit Dad and was shortly after 'taken to a farm', he was 'Skipper'.
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Bill Wright, the bald West Wyalong Barber and his wife 'Crick' lived next door and the Cattle family lived on the other side. Little Johnny Cattle cut his finger off with an axe in the backyard one day.
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The Stephensons lived across the road and one of their children was later a Matron at Wagga who Isabel my sister worked with.
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I had a big birthday party at West Wyalong, where all the kids in my class came. I ate a pink birthday candle and got sick as a result.
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My Godparents were Betty and Harry Hodson who moved to Salt Lake City, Utah and became Mormons, also Laurie Carter - godmother.
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Whenever I called into the Bank to see Dad, one of his workmates, Jim McDade always pretended to give me two bob, but he always put it back in his pocket - very funny!
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I was in the Cubs for a while at West Wyalong and one night all the Cubs were throwing mud at each other and I copped a handful of mud in my eye and had to see the doctor who put a long stainless steel hook down my eye socket into my cheek and hooked the mud out.
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I did well inthe swimming club at West Wyalong, and won the 25 yards 'Midgets Dash' sever times for which I soon had engraved egg cups. We used to love going to the pool on hot days. We had no car and mostly walked everywhere or rode bikes.
We left West Wyalong about 1950 when i was in fifth class and transferred to Katoomba. I would have been 9 or 10
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