Adventure With a Glass Eye

By Julie Anita Raymond

Young Graham Laycock is cheerful, confident, precocious and assertive. Tragedy strikes when he is nine years old, and for two years he is without hope.

Attending the School for the Blind marks a new beginning. It’s here his extraordinary vision starts as tricks with his glass eye and develops into career aspirations way beyond the sheltered workshop for the blind. At this point the public gets behind Graham and a Western Australian newspaper dubs him ‘Perth’s boy’. Graham’s vision matures into the facility to dream big, helping many others along the way, especially the blind and underprivileged.

Graham’s adventurous spirit, humour, mischieiousness, resilience and faith are evidenced as we share in his many challenges and achievements.

In the words of Graham’s lifelong friend, former Police Commissioner Bruce Scott APM, ‘...given the slightest opportunity, Graham would have a go at anything...anything at all...’

• Language: English
• Publisher: Julie Anita Raymond
• Release date: Apr 3, 2012
• ISBN: 9781476095752

Book preview

Chapter One

The World Graham was Born Into

The world Graham Laycock was about to be born into was full of adventure for children. Graham’s older brothers and sister were proof of that. Keith was twelve years of age, Laurel was ten and Mick was seven. Though they were poor, they found many ways to have fun and sometimes, snare a scrumptious treat.

On long hot summer days they eagerly walked the two or three kilometres from their home to the swimming pool, then known as ‘baths’, at Freshwater Bay in Claremont, a suburb of Perth, Western Australia. Surrounded by a boardwalk and grandstand seating, the swimming area was safely fenced off from the sharks that sometimes came up the river. There was also a diving board and marked swimming lanes. The children slipped into the water for a cool dip, tore along the lanes in a race or surprised each other with an unexpected splash from a powerful ‘bombie’ off the racing blocks.

Crabbing was a favourite activity. The children ambled through the shallows between the baths and the nearby jetty, scooping the Swan River crabs in their nets. Then they made preparations for a feast. They set a roaring fire going under the old copper tub of water mounted on the beach. When the boiling bubbles rose to the surface, they plunged the crabs into the seething liquid. After only a few minutes they fished them out and prised open their shells with a pocket knife or cracked them against a rock. They scraped the meat from the shell and pushed the plump, white flesh into their mouths. Then, careful not to waste a scrap, they snapped the claws open and sucked out the last delicious morsels.

The river wasn’t the only haunt for the children of the suburb of Claremont in 1937. There were so many things to do and places to go that it seemed like paradise, even for those who had very little money.

The latest neon signs lit up the shopping hub, Bay View Terrace. At Drabble’s Hardware the local boys spied out the footballs. They listened for snippets of inside information as George Moloney, captain of the Claremont Football Club, served a customer. The ‘Tigers’ were runners up in the last two grand finals and expected a victory next season. The children’s Aunty Coral was a pastry cook at Mrs Bovell’s pie shop. The children thought she was so lucky. The aroma of Aunty’s fresh-baked pies sure made the mouth water.

Saturday was the best day for children at the Princess Theatre, also on Bay View Terrace. The matinee was very cheap at only threepence. There was a cartoon, a feature movie, and then the serial film. It was exciting for the children to join in the fortunes of the hero with thunderous boos and high-pitched cheers. For well-off children, there was even more pleasure. They paid sixpence and sat upstairs. It was the ideal place to drop a flour bomb onto those below.

The Laycock family lived at 3 Lapsley Road. The street ran from Butler’s Swamp (now Lake Claremont) up to the Royal Agricultural Show grounds. The loose pickets at the back of the showground were a secret shared by only a small group of children. Each year, when the show was on, the Laycock children lifted the pickets and snuck into the show. There they were able to do some ‘paid’ work. Looking after the cows was well rewarded with ‘goodies’ such as fresh milk.

On 19 November 1937, baby Graham was born. It was the time of the year when the mauve blossoms of the Jacaranda trees in the neighbourhood burst into life. Jiggled by the last of the spring winds, many of their flowers had fallen, dotting the green lawns of the houses. Graham’s mum, Marjorie, cradling her tiny baby, returned home from the small Claremont hospital to her husband, James, and their other three children.

Graham’s adventure had begun.

Chapter Two

Swamp Kid

Before long the hot dry summer set in. Within weeks of Graham’s birth, problems came one after the other for Marj and Jim. Little Graham was the biggest worry. For him, the promise of the wonderful childhood of adventure that his brothers and sister experienced soon came under threat.

The heat of the summer seared the house and baby Graham lay screaming in his cot. Sharp pains stabbed at his stomach. He cried out, thrashed his arms and drew up his little legs. His tummy heaved, cramped and pushed, forcing its contents from both ends of his little body. His tiny hands pushed away all offers of sustenance. Even a drop of water from his bottle made him vomit. Hours passed. Graham grew quieter. Too ill to fight any longer, he simply kept his mouth clamped shut when anything was offered. His skin was frighteningly hot. Marj and Jim’s baby was suffering. They sent for the doctor. The doctor hastened into the room despite the stale smell of vomit and soiled nappies. He reached out to the thin, pale little fellow in the cot before him and gently placed his big hand on his forehead. Graham was hot and dry to the doctor’s touch. He didn’t move. The doctor lifted his little arm and took his hand in his. It was as lifeless as the withered blooms of the Jacarandas that now lay brown on the ground outside. Graham had all the symptoms of an advanced and deadly stage of gastroenteritis. The doctor shook his head, and lifted his face to Marj and Jim.

Time is short, he said. He may not even make it through the next hour. In great distress and haste, Graham’s mum and dad, of Catholic background, sent for a priest to baptise their dying baby. The only one they found was Anglican. Suddenly, denominational differences, so important in those days, were put aside. There was nothing for it but to get the priest to hurriedly baptise Graham into the Anglican Church. Then somehow, wonderfully, Graham made it through the hour. More time went by. He held down some fluids, enlivening his little body. With each passing hour the danger lessened. Tiny Graham survived and in the days to follow he was gradually restored to full health. He grew into an active little toddler and joined in all the fun with his brothers and sister.

Only a few months later there was another close call for Graham. Marj was in the back garden hanging the washing on the line when, without warning, intense screams pierced the air. She spun round. Graham, nappy clad and bow-legged, was by the back door. He was rooted to the spot and shrieking loudly, with his hands clamped over his eyes.

Marj rushed over, bent down and tried to prise Graham’s hands away to see what was wrong. But Graham hung on. Mum, Mum, he cried, his face twisted in pain. Marj scooped Graham into her arms and ran inside. As quickly as they had started, Graham’s bellows stopped. Marj lay Graham down and checked him thoroughly. No bee sting. No cuts. No bruises. There was no sign of anything wrong.

But in the days that followed, every time Marj took Graham outside, he screamed, holding his hands tightly over his eyes. After much worry and puzzlement, it was discovered that Graham had contracted Pink Disease. This is caused by an unusual reaction to mercury, which was often found in teething powder and other baby products before 1950. There are many symptoms of the disease but noticeable in little Graham was extreme light sensitivity. So every time he was exposed to daylight, his hypersensitive eyes burned with pain. The disease could have been fatal, but fortunately, once again, Graham recovered. He returned to being a healthy little boy who was full of life and energy.

Young Graham with his mother, Marjorie.

Not being able to afford their own home was a continual problem for Marj and Jim. There was the constant worry of meeting rental payments on a limited income that also had to feed four growing children, and there was the insecurity that came with renting. There was very little protection for tenants in those days. The landlord could move people on at any time.

Over the years the family had moved several times. In 1927 when their eldest child, Keith, was a toddler and Laurel was a baby, Jim and Marj moved from the metropolitan area to Southern Cross, an old gold mining town 369 kilometres east of Perth. There Jim worked his trade as a butcher. They were five long years for Marj. The isolation and hard times of the Great Depression took their toll. Every time Marj took her young children and visited her parents in the Perth suburb of Mosman Park, she wept all the way home. At least the last few houses had been in suburbs not far from the wider family. In 1931 and 1932 they rented 31 Nicholson Road, Subiaco. From 1933 to 1937 they lived at 6 Hay Street, Claremont. In 1939, having only been in Lapsley Road for a year or so, it was time to move again.

The move was to 23 Fern Street, Swanbourne. Fern Street, like Lapsley Road, was near Butler’s Swamp, but on the western side. Like the other houses the Laycocks had rented, the house was small, rough and had very few amenities. Nothing really altered for the children. They didn’t need to change school and they still ventured to Mt Claremont to pick mushrooms. Access to the swamp wasn’t quite as easy, but they soon worked it out. Fern Street ran into Scotch College oval, which bordered the swamp. The children made their way across the oval and through a paddock full of cows kept by the college. There was an extra challenge for Mick and Keith, who had by now bought themselves bicycles with the money they earned selling newspapers. They had to hustle their bikes through the drop-down paddock gate before it tumbled back down on top of them.

Graham too became one of the ‘swamp kids’, as all the children who lived near Butler’s Swamp were called. From an early age, when the older children roamed the swampland and its surrounds, Graham made sure he tagged along with his brothers, sister, and their friends. They climbed tees, made rope swings, caught ducks and frogs, and chomped on the peppery watercress that grew in the marshy area. One of the children’s favourite activities was to build galvanised iron canoes out of scrap metal. In these they sailed Butler’s Swamp, or more often, ended up in the swamp, in a tangle of slime and blood-sucking leeches.

Meanwhile, on 1 September 1939, far from the peaceful city of Perth, World War II broke out in Europe. Australia, because of its strong links to Britain (‘the mother country’, as it was known then) was almost immediately drawn in. This involvement in the war was to have a very real impact on Graham and his family.

Chapter Three

The Pingelly Farm

Jim enlisted in the army in May 1940. Within two months, Marj and the children found their husband and father plucked from them. At first he wasn’t too far from home, training with the 2/28 Infantry Battalion in Fremantle. This was only two suburbs south and connected by railway line. But six months later, in January 1941, Jim’s ship left for Egypt.

Marj continued on in Fern Street with the four children. The supply of consumer goods fell and the whole population was issued with war ration books and identity cards. The weekly food allowance for each adult was one kilogram of meat, 175 grams of butter, 450 grams of sugar and 55 grams of tea. Each person also had a book of 112 coupons for one year’s supply of clothing. It cost for example, 27 coupons to buy an overcoat and a women’s long sleeved jumper was 7 coupons. It was fortunate Marj was well practised at managing on a limited income.

By now, little Graham spent much time with Mick and his friends. Keith was in the merchant navy, which supplied the warships, and Laurel was in her mid-teenage years.

The wider family were very important too. Grandparents, on both sides of the family, lived in nearby suburbs and Graham’s cousins played a large part in his life. On his dad’s side there were the Newtons. Neil was two years older than Graham, Bob was the same age and Janet, only a year younger, shared the same birthday. These years were the beginning of many joint birthday parties for Graham and Janet. Though wartime was particularly hard for poor families, the children had plenty of fun at their parties. The games played together such as Pin the Tail on the Donkey and Blind Man’s Bluff, were the highlight.

In early 1942 the Japanese attacks on northern Australia began with the bombing of Darwin in the Northern Territory. The government thought the Japanese might invade Perth. Coastal suburbs like Swanbourne seemed at risk so they were prepared for defence. Public facilities such as schools boarded up windows, dug air raid trenches and provided sand bags, fire buckets and first aid kits. In the midst of all this, Marj evacuated the family to the safety of the country, like many other families at the time.

The Gilbertson’s were distant relatives who had a wheat and sheep farm in Pingelly, about 130 kilometres southeast of Perth. They gladly welcomed Marj and the children. Graham soon grew to love this warm country family. Aunty Jean, a round, jovial lady, was a very capable cook. After the scarcities of the city, what an indulgence it was for four-year-old Graham to munch on freshly grown and cooked farm produce, including Aunty Jean’s irresistible specialty of apple pie.

Aunty Jean was also a first-rate tennis player and amazingly light on her feet as a dancer. During the war blackouts she willingly drove the truck, without