First home in Australia

My parents were German and lived in what became East Germany under Russian rule after the war. They couldn't stand the repressive regime so decided to escape with a suitcase each, leaving all their other goods and chattels behind. My father was a highly qualified photo lithographer who applied for and got a position in a large printing firm in Calcutta India. I was born there. My mother, however couldn't cope with the heat and humidity and became quite ill so they had to leave for a cooler climate. They decided rather than returning to Germany they would continue their adventure and move to Australia.

My father applied for a job in a printing firm in Mascot Sydney. He was accepted but was told his family wasn't allowed to come to Australia until he had suitable accommodation for them. My mother and I returned to Germany and stayed with friends in West Germany while my father started looking for a place for us to live. He shared a room with a tram driver on Cleveland St Redfern, bought himself a third hand bicycle, rode to work every day and explored Sydney on weekends. Finding accommodation in the early 1950s was very difficult. He knew what he didn't like so kept expanding his search from the inner city area where he was sharing that miserable small room.

Finally he chanced upon a flat in Mosman. Originally the building had been a large family home but had been converted into 8 flats. The lady who had lived in No1 had had a fire so there was a hole burnt through the floor which had been covered with bits of metal. That didn't keep the rats out though! Also she had painted everything black, walls, floor and ceiling. My father loved the area though, bush all around, a park close by and Mosman Bay and the ferry to the city within walking distance. He took the flat and with the help of two Swiss chaps, one a builder and the other a painter, who he had met on the voyage to Australia, converted the derelict space into a comfortable family home. He was then able to send for my mother and me.

We lived in that flat until I was 14. In future blogs I'll write about my life there as it was a super happy time. Very few of the neighbours had children so all became surrogate aunties, uncles and grandparents which was wonderful seeing all our relatives were still in Germany.

I was the only 'foreign' student at Mosman Infants and Primary school. As part of English classes we used to practise writing letters. You would have to indent the address at the top of the 'letter' and I would always get into trouble because because I didn't have a standard address. Because I was 'foreign' it was assumed I just didn't understand and the teachers would encourage me to ask my more knowledgeable Australian neighbours about numbers and street names. In those days the postie (who came twice a day by foot announcing his presence by blowing a whistle) knew exactly who we were and where we lived. No1 Clitheroe Flats, Reid Park Mosman Bay was our address. Apparently none of the teachers I had approved. After we moved into our own home in 1965 a little road was created to the flats and houses beyond and named Harnett Avenue. Had that been done sooner it would have made my life at school easier.

I haven't been back to Reid Park for years. I believe the flats were done up and sold for huge sums as apartments. I wonder if the residents are as happy and as much a family as we were all those years ago - somehow I doubt it.