Lilian Jane Margaret Watkins (nee Lanyon)

In the early hours of yesterday morning my mother-in-law Jane Watkins (nee Lanyon) passed away. I knew instantly that I wanted to honour her life in some way even if it is through this humble blog post. I first met Jane in August 1999, just weeks after her 51st birthday. I was immediately struck by her no nonsense attitude and fiercely determined spirit. Seven years prior she had been diagnosed with Parkinson's Disease related to manganese poisoning. When I met her, she had a barely noticeable limp and she held her left arm across her chest but she didn't ever complain or allow it to slow her down or inhibit her life. She continued her life in that vain, even as the prolonged manganese poisoning symptoms began to take away her abilities to walk, talk and basically function. For a time, Jane continued to travel with her husband, my father-in-law Roy, and enjoy the simplicity of life. She could no longer do the things she loved most in all the world, her pottery and artwork. Over time the symptoms of her disease robbed her of the ability to sculpt and paint.

Jane came from a long line of Cornish artists, notably her father Peter Lanyon (read about him here in my blogpost written ten years ago). Her brothers Andrew, Matthew, Jo and Martin are also revered artists. I had the pleasure of meeting some of Jane's family when I visited the Cornish coast in 2006. I felt an instant connection with her mother Sheila and her nephews Arthur and John. Being able to see Jane's extended family and her beloved Newlyn through her mother's eyes, I became fascinated with the Lanyon family and began researching the family tree. However, I wish I had of asked more questions of both Sheila and Jane but both of them possessed a "look ahead" only spirit. I honestly felt that they would simply evade my questions and curiosity, not because of any sense of family pride or rudeness but from a standpoint that life goes on, look forward towards the future, and don't dwell or look back on the past.

For instance, when I first met Sheila at her house in Newlyn, she had a framed photograph of her late husband Peter resting on a table beside her armchair. When I pointed it out, admiring his youthful good looks, she simply waved her arm around flippantly and said "Yes, that's Peter" and said no more on the subject but got up to go put the kettle on. Sharing memories of Peter Lanyon were usually shrugged off and mentioned only in passing. I also personally felt that for Jane's sake, her father died as a result of injuries incurred from a gliding accident when she was just 16 years of age, so bringing him up in conversation might have felt almost too intimate for Jane. I remember only once she spoke about him at great length and brought out some books and reels to show me; she sat on the floor with me for a short time but then without another word, got up and left me alone to pour through them. She rarely said another word about her father to me, it was like the door had quietly closed leaving no room for loitering in the doorway but to swiftly move on and never look back. I respected that silent motion at the time, but I do now regret that I didn't ask her any more about her childhood.

One of my favourite photos of Jane in her youth.
This was taken around 1964.

Jane was a wonderful mother-in-law. She made no fuss, interfered only once in my bringing up of her grandchild, and she quietly doted on all of her friends and loved ones. She was always smiling, I remember the many times we visited her and Roy, she would usually always be in the kitchen pottering around, baking and cooking even though she was increasingly restricted in her movements. She rarely sat still, she just developed a natural shuffle to get about in her own way. She would laugh heartily too. I can hear her laughter in my mind even now, and in the months before her passing she laughed at Goon Show references and my rendition of "A Little of What You Fancy". And yes, she sometimes cried unabashed too, especially as the years passed and she grew increasingly frustrated and restricted.

I shall miss Jane profoundly. Her legacy is of course her artworks, her pottery and her paintings. But also her husband of 52 years, her two sons, her two grandchildren, her extended family in the UK, and her lifelong friends in Australia. I shall miss her smiling face, her cheery outlook, her infectious laughter. Thank you for being my mother-in-law for 22 years. Rest in peace. You fought a long, arduous battle and you did it with dignity and sober realism. It was a pleasure to know you and call you family.

For further reading on Jane's journey to uncovering more about her manganese poisoning and Parkinsonism please read this article.

Winifred Ellen : 100 Years

This is a very special post which is dedicated to my paternal grandmother, Winifred Ellen Waters, who was born on this day 100 years ago.

I have written about her here

Nannie Freda taught me many things but most of all she taught me the true meaning of family and its history. She always encouraged me to explore my family history and to write about it. She often said I had the gift for writing, as did her own mother Eva who wrote articles for the church newsletters. Nannie also taught me the full appreciation of home and what it means to have roots. Beccles was her home for almost all of her life, and my love of home comes from her. Whenever I write about Beccles, I feel as though she is controlling my pen.

I miss you every single day Nannie but I know that you are a constant guiding light in my life, and I am forever grateful for your presence. I love you.

The Live Bait Squadron : Centenary

Today marks 100 years since the sinking of three Cressy-class armoured cruiser ships, HMS Hogue and her sisters HMS Aboukir and HMS Cressy. All three ships were hit by German U-Boat torpedoes in the morning of 22 September 1914.

The three ships which were to become known as the "Live Bait Squadron" were patrolling in the North Sea when they were torpedoed without warning. The combined total from all three ships was approximately 837 men rescued and 62 officers, and 1,397 men lost.

 

HMS Hogue

One of these men was my great-grandfather, Albert Humphries. Born in 1884, he lied about his age to join the Royal Navy in 1899. He served a total of 12 years, and joined the London Police Force in 1907. Ill-health prevented him from staying with the Force, taking retirement in 1911. When World War One broke out, Albert joined the Royal Naval Reserve and was posted to HMS Hogue. His commander was Reginald A Norton. Both men survived.

In November 1914, my great-uncle was born. His given name was Reginald Norton Humphries. The Norton name was passed from Reginald to his son and daughter and to his grandsons.

 

The Times newspaper, September 1914
My great-grandfather's name (top, right)

We will remember them. Lest we forget. God Bless them all.

For more information please see this wonderful website: http://www.livebaitsqn-soc.info/the-live-bait-squadron/ and Albert Humphries' details have been kindly added by Henk van der Linden: http://www.livebaitsqn-soc.info/images/hms-hogue/#humphries

Five Minutes With An Ancestor

If I had five minutes with an ancestor, who would it be and what would we talk about?

This is kind of unfair because there are so many. The list truly is endless.

Just five minutes with my grandmother's Freda and Lilian - just because I want to hug them, tell them how much I love them and miss them every single day, and to say I am sorry.

From a purely family history perspective:

• My great-grandmother Elizabeth Dare - to dispel some awkward family rumours and to confirm how many children she actually gave birth to.
• My g/g-grandfather William Preston - to ask him the truth about why he was estranged from his father and his two brothers.
• My great-grandmother Barbara Hargreaves - to ask her about her life as a Domestic Servant to a London physician and to ask her who Arthur Ward was.
• My 4 x great-grandmother Mary Ward - to ask her why she never married and yet she gave birth to six illegitimate children, three of whom died in infancy.
• My 4 x great-grandfather Joseph Powell - to ask him all about his life as a Thames Waterman.
• My 4 x great-grandparents John Humphries and Ann Rogers - to ask them why they never married and to confirm where they were both born before they lived together in Hammersmith and raised a family.

But, most of all, I would definitely ask my 3 x great-grandfather Richard Humphries:

Where the heck did you disappear to after 1871? What really happened to your first wife Mary Ann and why did she die alone in a workhouse? Why did you "shack up" with Sarah Spencer, not marry her and yet have a family with her? She gave birth to a daughter in 1872, and then just four years later, she marries another man. Meanwhile, you've completely disappeared from the face of the earth. What happened to you Richard?

It's All in the Numbers Geneameme

Not wanting to miss out on a genealogy-based blog challenge I decided to make my first blog post of 2014 about Alona Tester's geneameme.

I have many significant numbers in my family history but here are just ten to stir my memory and genealogy juices and share what these special numbers mean to me.

One - I am an only child (born of my mother and father before their divorce). My cousin is also an only child of her mother and father. Both my cousin and myself have only had one daughter. Whilst my cousin and I have what you would call "step-siblings" (though we loathe the term), her daughter and mine are definitely the only child.

Me with my babysitter & family
friend, outside our cottage
in Beccles, Suffolk

Three - The number of the cottage I lived in with my mother during the 1970s, in Beccles Suffolk. This cottage was so very significant in my childhood, it inspired me to include it in my novella Symphony of War.

Four - The number of sons my paternal grandparents had, including my dearest Dad. The eldest has since passed away ten years ago but the other three are still going strong. Four is also my lucky number. My 2xg/grandfather William and I were born on the same day (4th February), he in 1847 and me over one hundred years later!

Ten - This is the number of generations I have gone back to in my Preston ancestry. I am yet to confirm the eleventh ancestor but work is still underway. I have written two family history editions of Preston Origins, the second edition copies are currently held in both the Norfolk and Suffolk (Lowestoft) Record Offices.

Thirteen - The number of children in my 3xg/grandparents Josiah and Susan's family, including my 2xg/grandfather William who was the last born child. His eldest sister Maria was at least twenty years older than him. Thirteen is also a lucky number for my father.

Nineteen - This number recurs in my family tree, especially this very date in particular: January 19th. My 2xg/grandfather William was born on this day in 1853. My first cousin twice removed William was born on this day in 1890. My 3xg/grandparents Josiah and Susan married on this day in 1829. My 3xg/grandfather William died on this day in 1887. My 2xg/grandmother Jane died on this day in 1893.

Twenty Seven - This number recurs with my great-grandfather Albert who was married on the 27th and died on the 27th. Also my uncle (Albert's grandson) was born on the 27th. My 2xg/grand uncle was born on the 27th. Two of my 3xg/grand-uncles died and were buried on the 27th, both as a result of Cholera. I was baptised on the 27th.

Fulham, High Street. My ancestors lived at no.42.

Forty Two - This was the number of the Fulham High Street house which my 4xg/grandparents Joseph and Elizabeth lived in for many years during the early 1800s until my 3xg/grandparents William and Louisa continued to live there after Louisa's parents deaths. My 2xg/grandparents Richard and Louisa are also listed on the 1871 census as residing there with three of their children. Forty Two was also the number of the house I lived in with my current husband and where we lived when our daughter was conceived.

Fifty Eight - This number is special because this is the number of the boarding house which my great-grandmother Nellie ran in Bungay, Suffolk during the 1940s & 1950s. It holds very many happy memories for my mother who was born in the house and lived there from around the age of twelve until she left school to work full-time.

Ninety Four - This number is the age of my oldest surviving ancestor's age at death. Two others come very close at 92 and 93 but my 4xg/grandfather Zachariah was the winner! He was baptised in January 1777 and died in April 1871, in Beccles.

A belated "Happy New Year" to all my followers and thanks to Alona for the blog post idea.

My Nannie and Blogiversary

Today marks 30 years since my Nannie 'Buster' passed away. I was just 16 years old when she left us and today I feel as though I am 16 years old again. My heart is full to bursting, just thinking about her and how much I still miss having her in my life, physically speaking. I know and trust that she is with me spiritually because I sense her presence frequently, especially when I feel I am at a crossroads or when I am facing overwhelming emotions.

I have found out a lot more about my Nannie Lilian (read my blog post about her here) since I became an ardent genealogist and family historian. Things she never spoke about or rarely spoke about, like her parents' lives. I have visited the house, where she was born in 1920, with my husband and daughter and I have researched her ancestry back to the early 1800s when her 2 x great-grandparents John and Ann allegedly left county Somerset to live in the "big smoke" of London. I've made several wonderful connections with Humphries descendents and have been blessed to share documents and precious photographs.

Yesterday also marked my blogiversary. I have been writing posts on this blog for 2 years now and I am so pleased that I found the courage to write about my family and share some of the great wealth of information that I've accumulated and collected over the past 20 years plus of my life. Both of my grandmothers left me a treasure trove of family photographs, as well as their personal stories and an enormous respect for my heritage.

Lilian, taken around 1955

For My Mum

Tomorrow is a special day on the Australian calendar for it marks the celebration we know as Mother's Day. I get to take part in this special opportunity to be thankful for my Mum by being on the receiving end as well as the giving end. As my mother is currently not in the same state of Australia as I am, I won't be able to have her over for a luncheon and shower her with cups of tea,  home-made cakes and nostalgic anecdotes of gratitude. A blog post will have to suffice this time around, sorry Mum.

I have long been thankful to my Mum for being there for me. Now that I am a mature (cough) adult and I have a daughter of my own, I have grown to really appreciate what she went through in life. She really was a trooper and she did it tough for many years as a single mother, especially when we were living in England. What a blessing it was that she took the plunge and decided all those years ago to emigrate to Australia - the land of opportunity for many. She got stuck in almost immediately and wasn't afraid to grab the bull by the horns. She got a job within weeks of landing in Perth, and quickly found herself a place to live. She got her driver's licence and bought herself a white Ford Escort. Remember Betsy, Mum? Or was it "The Little White Chicken"? :-)

However, my appreciation for my mother really hit home this past week. Over the past five weeks the SBS television network aired the five-part BBC series "Turn Back Time: The Family". This series charts the evolution of the family, as one of Britain's most important institutions. Blending living history with genealogy, "Turn Back Time" explores what it means to be a mother, father and child in British society today and historically. Three modern day families (The Meadows; The Taylors; The Goldings) return to the 1900s and through five pivotal eras of family life:

Episode One : The Edwardian Era

Episode Two: The Inter-War Years

Episode Three: The 1940s

Episode Four: The 1960s

Episode Five: The 1970s

Turn Back Time : The Family
www.sbs.com.au

What made the last episode most special to me personally was that I was a child of the 1970s and my mother was the parent. She was a single mother who had to work two jobs just to keep us afloat. She made most of our clothes (on her trusty Singer sewing machine) because she couldn't afford new, and our jumpers were usually made by my grandmother Lilian. I was babysat a lot as a child (thank you, Brenda G xxx), while my mother was out earning, and I resented this for many years solely because I missed her so much. When we did spend time together though, it was precious. We danced and sang to all the latest chart toppers, we watched The Liver Birds, T.O.T.P, Whodunnit, Opportunity Knocks, Are You Being Served? and Crossroads together. We made cassette tapes (usually from comedies scripts like The Two Ronnies) for loved ones and family in Australia. I used to love sitting behind her on the sofa so that I could brush her hair. Those were my favourite times. But "Turn Back Time" made me see the 1970s from a different perspective - my mother's.

1970s Britain was a time of political upheaval with strikes, power cuts, water shortages, the introduction of the three-day week, and women's liberation. I didn't fully realise the impact all this would have had on my family, I was too busy worrying about my scooter and if we'd had a decent amount of snowfall to run around in. "Turn Back Time" illustrates the upheavals faced in the 1970s perfectly, showing scenes where families were plunged into darkness, having to fill their kettles and pans with water from the street tap, and constant worrying about the weekly wage. The Rhodes family joined the "T.B.T" families in this last episode: Lisa (single mother) and her two young sons, Harrison and Daniel. My heart went out to Lisa Rhodes as she symbolised everything about my own mother, doing it tough in the 1970s, and she had two children to clothe and feed! They were housed in one of the upstairs bed-sits where Lisa's kitchenette was sparse in every capacity. She had a temperamental immersion heater, a tiny sink, draining board, worktop and a two-burner, camping-style stove. At least my Mum and I had a decent sized kitchen with a proper stove! And we had seperate bedrooms, whereas the Rhodes family were cramped together in one room.

I used to complain a lot when I was growing up, wondering why we had so little when others had so much. I was jealous of my sisters (sorry lovelies xxx) and jealous of my school friends, and I did give my Mum a hard time, asking her for things she just couldn't afford to give me. I'm sorry for being so selfish Mum, I know you did your utmost best for both of us, and you did it almost single-handedly (you were a stubborn little buggger at times!). I didn't mean to take you for granted and I didn't mean to continually harp on at you about what I wanted differently.

Happy Mother's Day Mumsy. Thank you. I love you very much xxx xxx xxx xxx

Peter Lanyon : Cornish Artist

My husband's side of the family tree is rather intriguing and much has been researched on both his father's and his mother's sides of the tree. There are tin merchants, photographers, carpenters, musicians and composers, outfitters and tailors, farmers and pioneers, midwives and Indian Army Majors but one man became a well established name in Cornish history. My husband's maternal grandfather: Peter Lanyon the potter, sculptor, and painter.

One evening not too long ago, I was idly googling Peter for any new images or paintings and on the fifth or sixth line of results I discovered a photograph I had never seen before. It was taken by Ida Kar in 1961 and it's a really lovely shot of him.

There is so much expression in his face. I wish I could've met him.

I remember once listening to an old reel-to-reel audio of Peter Lanyon talking about his love of art and his heady youth in St Ives. Of all the things he said I will never forget when he responded to a question by saying, "I like cliffs. They're very tall...and thin." My husband and I still say that to each other from time and time and fall about laughing. Of course, Peter was referring to the view from his beloved glider. Imagine being an artist, looking for inspiration along the Cornish coastline. You would be absolutely spoiled for choice, and Peter used every opportunity he had to create masses of paintings, drawings and sculptures of Cornwall.

Peter loved each of his children and he took them with him on many walks and hikes around Cornwall, and he taught each of them to appreciate and hone their own unique craft. Today his sons are renowned painters, including Andrew Lanyon and Matthew Lanyon. I didn't get to meet Andrew during our 2006/7 trip to England as he was away in Japan but I did meet Matthew and I recall him being hilarious fun and great with my daughter.

George Peter Lanyon was born in 1918, one of two children born to William Herbert Lanyon and Lilian Vivian. Peter was educated at Clifton College in Bristol but St Ives remained his base and his first love however extensively he travelled throughout his life. As his love of art grew so did his ties with fellow artists Patrick Heron, Borlase Smart, Victor Pasmore, Ben Nicholson, Barbara Hepworth, Adrian Stokes, and Naum Gabo.

Peter at Little Park Owles Studio, 1955

From 1940 to 1945 he served with the Royal Air Force in the Western Desert, Palestine and Italy. In 1946 he married Sheila St John Browne. Peter and Sheila had six children (including my mother-in-law, Jane). Also in 1946 he became an active member of the Crypt Group of Artists, St Ives. During the 1950s he became established as a leading figure in the St. Ives group of artists.

Peter in his glider, c. 1960

Peter took up gliding as a pastime and used the resulting experience extensively in his paintings. One day in August 1964, on a training course with the Devon and Somerset Gliding Club, he came in to land too low; the glider nose-dived and catapulted him out. He died four days later as a result of his injuries. He grave slab carries and inscription from one of his own poems:

I will ride now
The barren kingdoms
In my history
And in my eye

The Returned Seaman, 1949

In The Trees, 1951

Chesil Bank, 1958

http://www.bbc.co.uk/arts/yourpaintings/artists/peter-lanyon

http://www.tate.org.uk/art/artists/peter-lanyon-1467

We Will Remember Them : Lest We Forget

It's that time of year again. Poppies are everywhere and it is a time of reflection for many people all over the world. Those with ancestors who fought in the war that was meant to be over in less than four months. Men (and women) all over the world, leaving their homes, their families, their lovers, their friends. Off to fight for a war they either wanted no part of or wanted initailly because of a fire in their bellies. I would bet none of them anticipated the repercussions, the legacy, the pain and tears, or the sorrow that it would leave behind and instill in our hearts and souls even today, 98 years on.

For my distant cousins Sidney Preston, James Jolly, William Waters and for those ancestors that came home to their loved ones and their beloved home soil. To those that raised families and struggled daily with their own personal nightmares and private hell, I thank each and every one of you. One of my favourite war poems was written by Rupert Brooke (1887-1915):

The Soldier

If I should die, think of me:
That there's some corner of a foreign field

That is forever England. There shall be

In that rich earth a richer dust concealed;

A dust whom England bore, shaped, made aware,

Gave, once, her flowers to love, her ways to roam,

A body of England's, breathing English air,

Washed by the rivers, blest by suns of home.

And think, this heart, all evil shed away,

A pulse in the eternal mind, no less

Gives somewhere back the thoughts by England given;

Her sights and sounds; dream happy as her day;

And laughter, learnt of friends; and gentleness,

In hearts of peace, under an English heaven.

James Jolly, Bungay War Memorial

William Waters, Beccles War Memorial

Sidney Preston, Holt War Memorial

"My subject is War, and the pity of War. The Poetry is in the pity."
                                                          ----- Wilfred Owen

Family History Through The Alphabet Challenge : V is for...

When I wrote out my alphabet plan on an index card over three months ago (has it really been that long?) I had no problem deciding what I would write for this week's letter. Be warned, dear readers, for this week's blog post is taking a religious slant as I present you with the humble Verger.

My great-grandfather Albert Waters was very active in the Methodist Church of Beccles from his youth until his dying breath. I only have vague memories of him (he passed away when I was six years old) but I remember him being present at Hungate Church when I attended the Sunday School next door. When I was little, my grandmother told me many family stories and one was the story of her father Albert joining the Methodist Church after a rather miserable time at home. Albert's father (my 2 x great-grandfather) liked a drink or six each day and when he wasn't working as a Municipal Superintendent at the Beccles Bathing Place (in Puddingmoor), he would be found next door at the Pickerel Inn.

In Albert's time there were two Methodist Churches in Beccles which he frequented and volunteered for, one in Hungate and the other in Station Road. After researching the duties of a verger I was quite humbled to think that my great-grandfather did these duties without pay and with little in the way of recognition. I also realised that my mother did the work of a verger, on top of her myriad clerical duties, at her local church in the Swan Valley up until last year when she retired.

Station Road, Beccles (Author postcard)
Methodist Church spires can be seen on the left
No longer exists today

Hungate Methodist Church, Beccles
Still exists today

The following extract is taken from the 7 March 1942 Beccles and Bungay Newspaper:

METHODISTS: A century ago the Wesleyans in Beccles were described as “lively and consistent Christians”. Their chapel was a neat building, and though small, yet it will contain about 200 persons. In front of the chapel is a schoolroom and yard so there is plenty of room for enlarging the chapel without the purchase of more ground. A resident minister in this place would soon make this a work of necessity. This building was the present Salvation Army Hall in Northgate. Originally the Methodists were connected with the Lowestoft circuit, remaining so until their services were discontinued in 1853 for a short time.

A few faithful friends were not satisfied, and still wished to remain Methodists, so they asked the Bungay circuit to take over Beccles. This was done, but in 1855 services were restarted at Northgate.After a few years two families removed from Loddon to Beccles and were dissatisfied with the hired chapel, so they set themselves to work for and provide a better building. Station Road was then being laid out, and on a site given by Mr John Crisp the present chapel was built in 1872, the schoolroom and vestries being added in 1887. Beccles was made head of a circuit in 1890, the Rev TE Sharp being the first superintendent, but there was return to the Lowestoft circuit in 1906.

The Methodist Church in Station Road was pulled down sometime during the early 1980s after the union of the Methodists and the Congregationalists, becoming the United Reformed Church. Now, sadly, there is private housing on this spot.

The Office of Verger is an ancient one and comes from the meaning ‘He who carries the Virge before the procession’. The ‘Verge’ is the rod of office (Latin - Virga; Old French-Vergier), and was used to ensure that the many processions were not impeded during worship. Duties of a Verger include/d:

• Opening up and locking of Church premises
• Preparation for various weekday services and Sunday services
• Preparation for Weddings and Funerals
• Setting out vestments
• Changing altar frontals according to liturgical year
• Care of linen and altar cloths
• Cleaning of Chalice and Paten
• Ensuring adequate supplies of Wine and Altar Bread
• Ensuring supplies of Candles
• Housekeeping, cleaning, polishing, floors and furniture
• Keeping entrance to porch or entrance clean and tidy
• Care of churchyard
• Care and welcome of visitors
• Preparation of Service Registers

I'm sure there are many more "behind the scenes" duties that a Verger once had. Sadly, today so many churches are closed to the public, except for special services, due to the lack of people willing to volunteer their time to undertake these weekly (and most often, daily) tasks. Men such as my great-grandfather did them out of love and duty to his Church and to his community.
 

Albert Waters, seen on the far right
With my grandparents, my aunt & uncle and
my three cousins at a Wedding at Hungate Church

Family History Through The Alphabet Challenge : P is for...

This week I changed my mind three times. First of all I was going to write my P post about Putney, where my great-grandparents were born. Then I decided that I wanted to include Perth, Australia in my post. Then came my third choice. A post dedicated only to Perth.

My relatives came to Perth from the early 1970s through to the late 1980s. I assumed that we had no known ancestry living in Australia before that time until I began seriously delving into my family history. That was when I discovered that I had two distant great-grand uncles that landed on Australian soil well before we did. One lived in what is known today as Melbourne (it was known as Van Diemen's Land when he arrived off a convict ship in 1847) and the other emigrated to Queensland in the 1960s (and later lived on Magnetic Island).

Before European colonisation, Perth was inhabited by the Whadjuk Noongar people for over 40,000 years. Evidence of this was discovered through archaeological findings along the Swan River. The area where the city of Perth now stands was called Boorloo by the Aboriginals living there at the time of their first contact with white people in 1827. Perth was named by Captain James Stirling in 1829 after Perth, Scotland (in honour of British Army Officer, Sir George Murray 1772-1846). Queen Victoria announced the city status of Perth in 1856.

St Georges Terrace, circa 1903
Perth's main CBD street

St Georges Terrace today
Trinity Church still stands amongst the skyscrapers

 

Forest Place or Chase, once a thoroughfare with Boans
Department Store on the left
(My Mother & Aunt worked at Boans
when they first came to Perth)
The GPO Building can just be seen on the right,
halfway up the street

Today Forest Chase is closed to traffic and Boans has
long since been demolished.
The GPO Building (the brown building) still stands

Swan Brewery, circa 1879

 

Swan Brewery today, following redevelopment in 2001

 

Perth Skyline 1935

Perth Skyline c. 1945

Perth Skyline 1964
Image courtesy of J McCall

My grandmother Lilian in Kings Park
City Skyline in the background, 1982

Perth Skyline 2012

Perth Skyline at night
My favourite way to see the City, from Kings Park

My favourite reasons for living in Perth are its historical buildings and early twentieth century architecture, its Aboriginal heritage and diverse 21st century culture, the Swan River and City foreshore, Kings Park and Botanical Gardens, the endless stretches of white, sandy coastline, Fremantle, the black Swans and the National Parks from Mundaring to the Darling Scarp. Perth is still growing, still changing, still developing and re-developing. We may be isolated from other cities in Australia but we're lucky for it. We might be thought of as selfish or snobbish to some outsiders but we are staunchly proud of our City.

Perth's state symbol, the Black Swan

Acknowledgements and thanks to Battye Library Perth, West Australian Museum, Royal West Australian Historical Society, Australian Institute of Landscape Architects (AILA) and author Tom Austen.

Family History Through The Alphabet Challenge : O is for...

For this week's Alphabet Challenge I chose a topic which I especially love about genealogy. When you find an ancestor in the census return or a GRO certificate, are you like me? Do you feverishly avert your gaze to the occupation column? Finding out what my ancestors "did for a crust" is an all important aspect to finding out so much more about what sort of life they really led.

This is a personal A-Z of my ancestors' occupations (I was quite surprised to find that most of my ancestors had occupations which started with the letter 'P'). There are a wealth of books in local libraries, genealogy societies, and online shops which can help you piece together what your ancestors working life would have been like. Costume books, meticulously researched and written by C.W & P.E Cunnington, Catherine Lucas, and Christabel William-Mitchell also help to put the "meat on the bones" of your ancestors social and occupational history.

Coachman c. 19th Century

I am so proud of my ancestors for their chosen occupations. It conjures up images of hard graft, inner pride, community satisfaction, and physical endurance in all weather conditions.

Agricultural Labourer (or 'Ag Lab' as we genealogists like to call them)

Blacksmith         Bricklayer       Bookseller          Baker

Coachman/Cabman        Carpenter      Clothier        Charwoman

Draper              Domestic Servant       Dairyman       Dustman

Enumerator (Census)      Errand Boy

Fishmonger      Fisherman    French Polisher      Farmer         Factory Hand

Gardener         Glazier          Groom

Horse Hair Curler/Weaver      Harness Maker      Hawker      Hay Carter        Housekeeper

Innkeeper         Ironmonger         Instrument (Musical) Seller

Journeyman

Letter Carrier     Labourer       Laundress

Mattress Maker     Music Hall Attendent       Music Teacher

Nurse          Newsagent

Omnibus Conductor       Ostler       Organist       Overseer

Photographer     Painter     Plumber     Police Constable     Printer    Picture Frame Maker
Projectionist       Professor of Music (Teacher)         Paper-hanging Dealer

Quilter

Railway Gate Keeper      Railway Plate Layer       Rate Collector

Steward     Shepherd      Saddler       Solicitor       Soldier       Stationer       Seamstress

Tallow Chandler (Candle Maker)      Timber Merchant

Upholsterer     Upholder

Verger       Victualler

Waterman (Thames)     Wheelwright       Weaver

Yardman

Thames Waterman

Footnote: This blog post marks twelve months since I started blogging here at "A Pocket Full of Family Memories" and I would like to give special thanks to Gould Genealogy and all of my regular readers for coming back again and again to read, leave comments and give me positive encouragement and continuing enthusiasm for my posts.