Rose: The Last Straw

By Jaime Wren

This book is based on the true story of a mother's struggle with disease, depression and a disintegrating marriage in Australia during the 1950s and 60s, followed by a narrative on her daughter's own struggles and journey towards recovery. This is a story of despair, loss, hope and love.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tellwell Talent
• Release date: Sep 29, 2020
• ISBN: 9780228833017

Book preview

Foreword

This is Jaime’s first book. It is difficult for her to share this story, however, if it helps just one person with their struggle then it is worth it.

It is mostly Rose’s story from her point of view.

There are people to thank for their guidance and constructive criticism, including Jaime’s good friends who have assisted in the drafting, initial editing and cover design, as well as her team at Tellwell Publishing, headed by project manager Redjell Arcillas. A special thank you to Katie Beaton, editor who enhanced the writing of this book.

Cover. Photo originally taken in 1967 by Rose. Includes Sharn in the foreground. Cover design created by a lovely friend. Thank you.

Jaime Wren

Prologue

2006, Mail

Sharn, aged 43, was living in the country town of Tumut, in the south-west slopes of New South Wales, Australia, close to the famous Dog on the Tuckerbox on the Hume Highway at Gundagai.

The weather there could range from icy cold in winter to stinking hot in summer. Spring and autumn made it all worthwhile, with gorgeous mild days and trees that changed colour with the seasons. In autumn, the leaves on the deciduous trees would change from green to shades of yellow, orange, red, purple and brown before they fell to the ground, forming a crunchy carpet underfoot.

There was an annual festival of the falling leaf to mark the occasion, including a parade of old cars, and floats. The centre of town was closed off and crowds would gather on either side to watch the procession. People would come from far and wide, locals and those from outlying properties and nearby towns such as Adelong, Talbingo, Batlow, Gundagai and further afield from Wagga Wagga.

At this time of year, the countryside became greener, and as the sunset approached, the sky over the mountains displayed a spectacular array of colours.

On a visit to Tumut, Sharn had fallen in love with the beautiful crystal-clear flowing river and the much lower housing prices, prompting her and Drew to check with real estate agents and drive around to see properties for sale. The end of 2002 saw them purchase the home they now lived in.

They were both living in Sydney at the time of September 11, 2001. Although this did not happen in Australia, it was enough to prompt Sharn and Drew’s move to a simpler life.

The home they lived in was a typical old-style house added to over the years, with a wood-burning stove that at one time also heated the water. Over time, there had been renovations made to the old home, with modern amenities and spacious rooms added.

At some stage, cladding replaced the exterior fibro sheeting. It had a corrugated iron roof, beautiful wide hardwood flooring and a front verandah facing the view of the township and to the hills beyond. The rear of the house overlooked mountains covered with snow in winter.

One gorgeous day, Sharn was sitting on the front verandah looking at the panoramic view of the countryside when she heard the postman’s bike heading up the hill.

She walked to the wooden picket gate of her home, next to the letterbox, to wait for the postman as she absorbed the stunning view.

The familiar sound of the postie’s motorcycle (well, scooter) was getting louder as he approached her home, which drew her attention away from the landscape.

Hi Sharn, how are you doing this fine day? he asked.

Great, thank you, Joe, and yourself?

No complaints, he said as he handed her the mail.

Have a pleasant day, Sharn replied.

You too, he replied as he headed up to the next house.

Sharn stood there, scanning through the mail. Nothing out of the ordinary, just bills, she muttered to herself.

Her attention then focussed on the A4 size manila envelope, addressed to her, which she inspected with interest. The word Registrar appeared on the top left-hand corner and it was post-marked from West Wyalong, a town in central west NSW. It looked official, yet too big to be a traffic ticket.

Bewildered as to why she would receive something from there, Sharn opened the envelope eagerly, and pulled out the documents to discover her mother’s coroner’s report.

Surprised and excited at the unexpected delivery, she rushed inside to tell her partner of ten years, Drew, who was sitting out the back in the sun with their pets, engrossed in his crossword puzzles after reading the local Tumut & Adelong Times.

Drew, you won’t believe what just arrived in the mail! she called as she was making her way through the house.

What is it? he replied.

As she walked through the back door to where Drew was sitting, she said It’s mum’s coroner’s report.

I thought you gave up hope of ever getting it?

I did. I wrote to the Coroner’s Court in Sydney who referred me to Lake Cargelligo NSW, only to be told a fire had destroyed most of the records. This came from West Wyalong.

You must be excited to read it! Drew said.

Yes, I am, it has been 39 long years of not knowing the events leading up to mum’s death and hopefully, this will provide the answers. As tragic as it is, I need to find out, Sharn said, thinking of how she could not ask her father for the pain it would create for him.

Are you going to tell your dad you have it? asked Drew.

I do not know yet, I guess I will read it first then decide, Sharn replied.

Receiving the report prompted Sharn to reflect on her mother’s age at the time of her death.

This reminds me of when I turned 33. She told Drew, I have three generations in a row of mothers who all died at 33 years of age. It made me wonder what was in store for me. It was ironic that I began working at a cemetery at that age, which also led to my enquiries about this report!

Anyway, Sharn said, I am keen to get started reading after I make a cup of tea and get comfortable.

1996, Reflection

While waiting for the jug to boil, Sharn’s thoughts went back in time to when she was working at the cemetery.

Sharn began her administrative job at the cemetery in 1996. This is when she started her family history research, as the vast cemetery contained the remains of many of her ancestors and the records at hand, making it the perfect opportunity. Then, while researching, she discovered coroner’s reports could be obtainable by the public, prompting her to make enquiries about her own mother’s death.

An amazing journey into her past began. She made many friends and met, at least virtually, many relatives, alive she might add. She also made amazing discoveries about the lives and struggles of her ancestors in this new, harsh, yet beautiful country in which her family lives.

Back in the 1990s, researching did not involve DNA, as it had not yet been developed for general use. Despite this, other resources were available, some online, compiled by the Mormons. The internet was relatively new back then, and personal computers had only been around for about 10 years.

Libraries held microfiche records on immigration, convictions, births, deaths, and marriages, and also old newspaper articles.

Microfiche could be very laborious as she would lose herself for hours and go cross-eyed from scrolling through the records, then come out with a pile of prints and a headache.

Her ancestors were a varied mix of convicts and free settlers, seafarers, city and country dwellers. Most coming to Australia from England and Ireland, and one family from France. She noticed her father’s family built churches and her mother’s family built pubs!

Having made her cuppa, Sharn walked outside and settled comfortably in the sun to read the bulky document that would finally reveal what happened surrounding her mother’s death way back in 1967.

******

Sharn initially browsed through the report before reading thoroughly. The following section caught her eye and she read:

Deposition

John’s deposition was as follows

My full name is John Evans

I am an electrician

On 25th November, 1967 I was residing at (property, town) On 27th November, 1967 I made a statement to Detective (name) at (town)

Sergeant

Q. Is that the statement?

A. Yes

Q. You have read that statement and examined the signature and there is nothing in it you wish to retract from it?

A. No

Coroner

Q. This is a sad case, it is quite obvious. How long were you married?

A. 10 years

Q. How long is it since you drifted apart?

A. It was on and off for maybe 5 years

(Note: This coincided with Rose’s pregnancy, hospitalisation and possible pre- and post-natal depression)

Q. How long have you been living in this district?

A. 2 months before

Q. Was she happy living out here?

A. Not very happy about it at all

Q. Had she ever used a rifle to your knowledge?

A. Yes, often target shooting at the property where I lived, shooting at tins off the fence

Q. In other words, she was accustomed to using a rifle?

A. Yes

Q. There is a lot that can be said–it is most unfortunate that a thing like this could happen and nothing can be done about it now. It is stated she attempted to take her life on a previous occasion?

A. Yes, once before

Q. By means of sleeping tablets?

A. Yes

Q. It appears to me Mr Evans that you are definitely concerned in this because you could have given your wife perhaps some help and as you state you stayed out practically all night and it would appear that this was the last resort, and I shall give my findings later but I feel you could have been a better man than what you have been.

******

Sharn empathised with her parents after reading this. The utter despair of her mother and the overwhelming guilt her father felt, especially as he did not understand his wife’s point of view and feelings. She understood her mother’s depth of depression and how she believed there was no other choice for her. In her own struggle with abandonment and depression, Sharn has experienced similar feelings, but also understands her depression is causing an exaggeration in her feelings, and fortunately, she lives in an era with many options to choose from rather than the last and final resort.

Rose

Parents and Background

Rose was born to Edna and Stan Jones in September 1934. An innocent baby with the world ahead of her, she had no idea what life would throw her way.

Edna came from an English background. Her parents, George Trent and Catherine Maze, married in Australia after emigrating in 1911 from Deptford, England. They travelled in a group of six, including two married couples, who all lived in Deptford, south east London on the south bank of the river Thames. Deptford’s population was around 120,000 people.

Catherine travelled as a nanny to the boys of one couple, the Greens. It was unusual for a lady to travel on her own unless in service. George had known Catherine for two years. He found her very attractive, with her blonde curly hair and hazel eyes, and he was happy that she was making the journey with them.

They probably made an excellent decision coming to Australia before World War I, which took place in Europe from 1914 to 1918, and no doubt they hoped for a better life in a new country.

After arriving in Sydney, George and Catherine married and the Greens and Trents settled in western Sydney, near Parramatta, only a street apart.

George and Catherine Trent had three girls and one boy. Their son was born at six months and died shortly after birth. Infant deaths were not uncommon in the early 1900s.

George worked as a blacksmith striker in London and continued his trade in Australia, employed by the railways. This transition must have been hard with temperatures much hotter than in England.

Catherine died in 1923 from a disease of the heart, leaving her three daughters aged eight, five and two; Edna being the eldest. In 1926, George married Mrs. Cynthia Green, whose spouse had also passed away and her sons had left home to pursue their own lives.

Rose’s mother and her two sisters finished high school, then went to a Domestic Science School at Parramatta where they learnt to cook, make beds, iron, sew and other domestic activities, getting them ready for marriage. Not that they never did these things before, as the girls were all assigned chores at home from an early age. They then found employment.

Rose’s father, Stan, came from a mix of convicts and free settlers mostly from England and one ancestor, Mary, was an orphan of the Irish Potato Famine (The Great Hunger). Mary was sent to Australia with other girls orphaned by the famine, to marry convicts as there was a shortage of women in the colonies.

Stan Jones was a third generation Australian. His convict ancestor settled in the Bathurst area, just past the Blue Mountains, west of Sydney in New South Wales. His ancestors then married and his family became pioneers in the Carcoar area.

Edna’s parents had certain expectations about the kind of husbands they wanted for their girls. Stan, being working class Australian with convict ancestry, was not their preferred option.

The Trent’s were strict and required their girls to be home by 10.30 pm if they went out of a night. Anyone who wanted to date the girls received the third degree beforehand to the embarrassment of their daughters. They were not impressed when one daughter brought home her beau, who wore brightly coloured shirts.

However, Rose’s parents, Stan and Edna, loved each other and married in 1933.

They made a handsome couple, both with fair hair that was thick and curly. Edna worked at Saunders Cards in the city, known for its greeting cards, and Stan was a ganger with the railways, laying heavy wooden sleepers to support the metal tracks.

Childhood and Anxiety

Rose was their only child, born in 1934 during the Great Depression.

The newlyweds started their family life in western Sydney. While Rose was a toddler, they moved to a town in northern New South Wales called Manilla, on the Great Dividing Range where some of Stan’s family lived.

Stan and Edna were not to enjoy a long marriage as Stan contracted tuberculosis and died when Rose was only two years old, so she never got to know her father. He was buried with his mother in Sydney.

Tuberculosis (TB), also known as consumption, is an infectious bacterial disease that mainly affects the lungs. The bacteria is spread by coughs or sneezes. Most infected people do not show symptoms, but when symptoms occur, they usually include a cough sometimes tinged with blood. TB can kill someone within five years, if left untreated.

Edna and Rose remained in the country town where Rose started kindergarten with her cousins and Edna eventually remarried Barry, a local storekeeper. He was a tall, robust, handsome man, who enjoyed playing football, and he was a very kind man.

As an infant, Rose had suffered a fall which stunted the growth of her left arm. She spent a period in a brace to rectify the problem, to no avail. This difference was not noticeable until she grew older.

Rose was happy during this time, playing with her cousins and roaming the streets freely where everyone knew each other. The girls would often draw hopscotch squares in the dirt or play skipping. They would play hide and seek and make stilts out of Sunshine Milk tins and string. They also liked to play a game of jacks using pig knuckles and would often go to the riverbank to fish.

Rose had a genuine love of animals from an early age and would often bring injured wildlife home to mend or ask if she could keep a stray.

Unfortunately, this carefree life was not to continue as two things occurred:

Edna had showed signs of having the highly contagious disease, tuberculosis, contracted from her husband, Stan; and World War II began in 1939, lasting until 1945. All the local boys were signing up to go to war, including Edna’s husband, Barry. He became a pilot in the Air Force.

Edna and Rose returned to Sydney so that her family could assist with raising Rose, as the doctor confined Edna to bed rest to give her lungs a chance to heal from the disease. Rose’s stepfather, Barry, promised to visit as often as possible when he was home from the war.

Rose enjoyed living with her two aunties and grandparents, but it wasn’t the same as being surrounded by her young