A Sad Aside

The other day I heard that the house that i was born into and lived in until I was 23 has been bulldozed to make way for some new suburban Taj Mahal. I found the news disturbing because its part of my history, part of me and my family, and it's just not there any more. I have photos of course but it'sjust not the same as knowing it's there, knowing you can drive past and show your kids and grandkids.

The house was built entirely by hand by my late father in the late 1940's and was arguably fairly avant guard for its time. This is 1950s at latest. This house had built in wardrobes, and inside toilet, the cupboards in the kitchen had doors that slid up into the roof space and there was a built in 'breakfast nook'. It was double brick and the roof trusses were old school '3x2's spaced 18in apart.

It was a home for  two mum, dad and us 4 children. We had birthdays, at least my 21st, there and my sister had her wedding reception there. It hold many many memories of both good and bad times, of highs and lows, of growing up pain and joy. Just sitting here thinking about that house and all the things that took place in and around it in my life time leaves me saddened that the one thing that pinned those things and events and feelings to a place and time is now gone.


Basically it was built strong and proper by a master tradesman and made to last many families for many years and deserved a better fate than being torn asunder and levelled like so much rubbish.

The one thing it underscores is that you cannot take anything for granted: if you want to preserve it or record it for posterity - do it today.

1 Lily Street, Croydon Park, Sydney