5. THE MIDDLE YEARS AND NEW FREEDOMS:

1945 —1958

Work was plentiful, and Norman went to work first at Post Office, where his skill with sending and receiving Morse code was still relevant, and then to Adelaide Joinery Works, where he spent the rest of his working life as company secretary.

What I remember about the next ten years are the dances, the family parties and sport. The Institute Library opposite the Clarence Park Railway Station provided a community focus for us. There were casual strolls of a Friday evening to the Institute Library where I devoured my weekly supply of books before the end of the weekend and had to wait until the next visit. I recall the golden light of the street lights; the sense that every evening was a warm, balmy Spring; and that there was as much time as we wanted to choose books from the treasure trove of the Library. Norman played electric light cricket in the nets adjacent to the Institute and I longed to be big enough to play too. I can still hear the long dying notes of the Last Post at the Anzac Day memorial services in the Institute Hall, the bugle played by my father, and his voice as I heard for the first time the now-familiar words

They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old.

Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.

At the going down of the sun, and in the morning

We will remember them.

These were the days of Guy Fawkes Night, a huge bonfire at the end of our block every November 5^th. In the days before greater prudence demanded the restriction of fireworks, we squirreled away savings to buy sky rockets, Catherine wheels, Mount Vesuvius's, Roman Candles, and penny and three—penny bangers. The weeks before Guy Fawkes would be spent planning our own pyrotechnical display, always saving the more expensive and dramatic sky rockets until last.

It seemed that, during the decade after the war, wherever I turned there was my father. He was MC at all the dances, leading off the dances with my mother and the toast—master at weddings. When square dancing became the craze in the 1950, he and Olive took it up with gusto, and he tried his hand at calling the dances. He was at every baseball game. He learned the art of scoring, becoming the official scorer when summer night baseball began in Adelaide, and was scorer for the interstate baseball series. At 50, he was still playing parklands cricket — a competent wicketkeeper and middle-order batsman.

My parents dug up the whole back yard at Byron Rd and planted huge beds of flowers and Olive started a florist's business from home. Then, when Olive went to work at central Florists in the Adelaide Central market, they flattened the whole area out again and turned it into a tennis court. When the interstate baseball series was held in Adelaide in 1950, we entertained all the teams at a barbecue at our house. It was not uncommon for there to be similar parties of families and friends — barbecues, a keg of beer (and a careful eye on any young ones who tried to sample it!), plenty of soft drinks, and plates and plates of cakes and sausage rolls prepared by 'the baseball wives'.

  Norman and Olive at the Palais Royal Ballroom, 1950

My father inculcated into me the importance of fair play, of accepting the umpire's decision, and of always giving your best. I recall an incident where I had made a play in a baseball game that was within a strict interpretation of the rules, but of doubtful sportsmanship. In a conversation after the game, the umpire suggested to my father that I had cheated. I don't remember the words my father used in relaying this conversation to me, but he was obviously torn between the need to defend his own family against the umpire's challenge, and his sense that I had indeed transgressed some unwritten code of decency.

In 1951, the day after we had celebrated his 21^st birthday, Bob went overseas. I know Norman wasn't all that keen on Bob's trip. My brother had fallen under the spell of a 'fast-talking Yank'[1] (I think these were my father's sentiments!), and had been persuaded to try his hand at baseball in the USA. Bob had also fallen in love with a dazzling Californian blonde, so my father's advice had little influence against the irresistible twin forces of sport and sex. (For the Canadians — the rest is history!!).

By 1950, we had moved from our Byron Rd house to Belair Rd — another newly-built house. During our time at Byron Rd, Norman's father had come to live with us, and Gramp had his own small room added to the garage. Gramp then became a permanent fixture in our family, along with my mother's Aunt Chrissie[2], for the rest of my time at home.

My father's summing up of people was usually accurate. The 'fast-talking Yank' did turn out to be a con—man and later fell foul of the law. I also recall him trying to gently warn me away from association with a couple of men. His warning was too oblique for the adolescent me to grasp but I later realised that the men in question were gay, and he was trying to protect me from inappropriate encounters!

  Olive and Norman, 25th wedding anniversary, October 1953 at Belair Rd, West Mitcham

In 1953, Norman and Olive celebrated their 25^th wedding anniversary, with friends and family. In the photo, they are both showing extra weight, Olive at last losing the gaunt figure of the war years. In my father's hand is the ever—present cigarette. He smoked for as long as I can remember, a significant contributor to my early asthma and to the heart disease that caused his own death.

In 1955, Bob returned to Australia with Trish and the infant Burk. My parents did all they could to welcome them home, but work was not easy to get for Bob, Trish longed for home, and in 1956, we farewelled them again. As Bob, Trish and Burk were sailing off to Canada, another significant meeting was occurring. At a church camp, Charmian and I met. It is clear that my father had good judgement as, in his quiet and unobtrusive way, he spoke approvingly of Charmian from the early days, and less warmly of other girls I took out during the three years of Charmian and my on—again, off—again courtship. My grandfather was much more direct in his assessment of Charmian who definitely had his 'seal of approval' from early on! Charmian and I married in 1959, just after I had graduated, and a month before my parents left for Canada. Their generosity to us and our children over the next twelve years was wonderful. They gave us significant material assistance, but more importantly they gave us time and affection. In retrospect, we see how much their gifts of extended child minding that allowed us 'time out' together contributed to the strength of our marriage.

The following photo is the only one I have that includes Norman's father, Steve, and his brothers Roy and Ralph. Roy's son, Jeff and Ralph's son, Warren, are in the back row. It is taken at our Westbourne Park house a couple of years after Bob and Trish had returned to Canada, which explains Bob's absence. My absence can be directly attributed to the matters referred to in the preceding paragraph!

  Back row: Jeff and Warren           Front row: Norman, Roy, Steve and Ralph

Richmond Rd, Westbourne Park, 1957