Before I sent the email to Denise* I did actually recognise one of the names on the list. It was Turner*. Even though my father died when I was 10 I recall both he and my mother talking about a man called Ted Turner*. My memories are vague but I thought he was a businessman who helped my father set up his own business in the Victorian town of Mildura. I knew he died in 1952 because my mother had kept a newspaper cutting featuring his obituary.
Denise replied promptly, telling me that she lived in Mildura and that her grandfather was Ted Turner. There were also other Turners, including two brothers and his son Hugh*, now aged 93. This was astonishing news because Mildura is where I was born. It is a medium sized country town, current population 33,000 and a thousand kilometres from where I now live.
Before you go jumping to conclusions (I can tell you I did), I will put you in the picture about my parents.
My mother married my father when she was only 18. She had left school early, mainly because her mother was absent earning a living as a housekeeper on outback stations, while she boarded with a family in Roma, Queensland. She followed her mother’s first trade and became an apprentice dressmaker for a while in Charleville before moving to Melbourne to live with an aunt and work at Lucy Seekers. At the age of 17 she was back in Queensland, finding a job as a receptionist in the Victoria Hotel, Goondiwindi. It was here she met Linden, ten years her senior and probably the most exciting thing that had happened to her in her whole life.
His occupation at the time is not clear but electoral rolls show he spent a few years trapping rabbits on properties belonging to the Munro family, for whom his mother worked as a housekeeper. Although he had attended Newington College in Sydney and was given the opportunity to work as a wool classer, he seemed at a loose end. Maybe it was because his father had suffered a fatal heart attack on his own railway station when Linden was six. Possibly mixing with sons of the landed gentry at school made him unsure of where he fitted in the social hierarchy. When he married my mother in 1936 he was a “grazier” which is a quite a step up from trapping rabbits. According to my mother, Linden leased flash cars, owned a racehorse, was for a time a bookmaker and enjoyed dining out and spending money. It is here I will explain why B is for Bill. My father felt the name Linden was a bit sissy for the bush. Maybe Linden the rabbit trapper didn’t quite gel. Anyway, by the time he met my mother he was Bill to all but his closest family.
My parents were fortunate to have the help of my paternal grandmother’s employer, Alfred Munro. With the lease of 3,000 acres near Boggabilla on the McIntyre River near the Queensland border the young couple battled twelve months of drought and watched the sheep die. So they went touring and found a well watered property called Berrigagama, three miles from Tocumwal on the NSW side of the Murray River. Alfred helped them with the purchase and the sheep enjoyed the green grass until they developed foot rot. Alfred Munro purchased the property from them allowing them to move on to other enterprises. Bill was fed up with the land so the next project was a guest house in Sydney, followed by a fruit shop turned into a milk bar – it was a lot of hard work with nothing much to show at the end. Linden came up with the idea of renting a building and subletting it until the owner found out and put an end to the enterprise.
I will never know why they decided to travel six hundred miles to Mildura to set up a business but in 1949 that is what they did. That was two years before their only child (yours truly) was born.
* Names have been changed.
A superb picture of your parents, your mother looks very elegant and the glimpse of the Sydney Harbour Bridge in the background is terrific for providing the setting. I think Street photographers were very skilled.
I was pleased to hear your DNA match replied, eagerly waiting for the next instalment.
Regards
Anne
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Great photo and an interesting backstory
Debbie
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Hari OM
What a wonderful read… who needs fiction when life presents such characters?! That they ‘belong to you’ makes it all the more compelling. YAM xx
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I agree with Yamini – Who needs fiction when fabulous real life stories like this exist? That is also a stunning photo of your parents — very Hollywood! I can’t wait to read more!
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I can see why he changed his name to Bill. I like the name Linden though. It would fit right in in the 21st century
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I am enjoying this ancestral story.
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It must have been very discouraging to keep starting over.
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Wendy, I find it hard to imagine what it would have been like. I spent my whole working life as a teacher which was a very secure job. Maybe the security of the job attracted me after knowing what my parents went through.
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That is a fabulous picture! What an interesting back story about your parents. Fascinating to read about the work they did back then.
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Definitely a different time and place. Great to read about!
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The photo is delightful, and I could construct a whole story around it, but the truth is really much more interesting. Looking forward to the next installment.
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I love the picture of your parents. I can imagine it must have been difficult not to jump to conclusions after getting your DNA results. Can’t wait to see where the DNA trail leads you.
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As others have noted, the photo of your parents is wonderful. The setting is spectacular with so much going on in an un-staged way. Glad to hear your DNA email was answered with a *name. Lead to another captivating story. Well done…look forward to each new letter.
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Ah, that fascinating view of 1930s Sydney! If nothing else, that Harbour Bridge in the background tells you where it is. 😉 Who took the photo, do you know?
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I am glad you said 1930s Sydney. I wasn’t sure when it was taken but it would have been after 1936 when they were married. When I find the photo again I’ll check on the back.
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Whoops, forgot the paste my latest post. Sorry, I can’t seem to do the clickable links any more, but here it is: https://suebursztynski.blogspot.com.au/2018/04/blogging-to-z-2018-c-is-for-collins.html
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Love that photo of your parents… you can’t beat the old black and whites and especially the setting of a city street… true classics to have. It’s good to write their stories. Often just one photo can tell a story when you really look at that photo… it will talk to you. I chose to write on my fav childhood book this year – Nancy Drew. Possibly you read her in Australia, be interesting to know. Hope you’ll stop by at …https://everyonehasafamilystorytotell.wordpress.com/category/2018-a-to-z-all-about-nancy-drew/
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As several have said, that is a fantastic photo. And how discouraging to have plans and opportunities fall through time after time.
http://findingeliza.com/
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I can’t find you on the A to Z lists, so finally today I did a search for your blog to get back into the story.
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I have just seen a video about research being done on Sydney Street photography and thought you might be interested https://sydneylivingmuseums.com.au/exhibitions/street-photography They may be able to tell you more about the photographer and time and it was interesting to learn a little about ow it worked.
Regards
Anne
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I sent a couple of photos to them but not the one of my mother and father. On the back it showed who the photographer was. They were mounting an exhibition. Don’t know if my photos got in.
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I think the exhibition is not til the end of this year – they are doing a lot of research it seems
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The photo of my mother on her own in the spotted dress has been accepted by the Sydney Living Museums. The exhibition starts early December.
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Your father was ahead of his time Linda by subletting. Now it would be called Airbnb..
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You’ve got me hooked too and I realize now this is a different series.
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