My Ten Year Journey to Freedom

By Fae Power

The book is about the ten years of hard work on the writer's part collecting information from various people and places, including the N.S.W. State Archives at Kingswood.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Balboa Press AU
• Release date: Jan 31, 2023
• ISBN: 9781982296360

Fae Power

It took ten years of hard work o for this writer to get to this far albeit with help from other folk.

Book preview

DEDICATION

This book is dedicated to my girls Rosemerie, Leslie and Michelle who have been very supportive of this long process and helped fill in a few gaps. Also, a very patient friend in Judy Harrison who became my accidental editor and put up with my many mistakes and drafts.

CONTENTS

Dedication

Acknowledgments

Introduction

1       My Mum (Alma Dorothy)

2       My Dad

3       Aunty Myrt

4       Teachers

5       My Brother Barrie

6       Smithfield To Toongabbie

7       The Accident

8       After The Accident

9       Pix

10     My Sister Gail

11     Surprise - Sue

12     Rita

13     Engagement & Wedding

14     First Wedding Anniversary

15     House

16     Rosie

17     Leslie

18     Michelle

19     My Three Daughters

20     Life With A Parky

21     Lorna And Me

22     Counsellors

23     Tongue

24     My Message In A Bottle

25     The Gem In The Field

26     Hornsby

27     Further Advice

28     Darkness To Light

29     Dreams

30     Bombshell

31     Films

32     Nightmare Dreams

33     Car

34     Visions

35     Mt Colah

36     Burning Bridges

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I would like to acknowledge the following as helping me through this time of healing.

1.Hornsby Council (NSW) as that is the shire where the accident happened in 1951. A couple of chaps gave me information.

2.Healing Rooms at Salamander Bay Uniting Church. Many visits there over several years.

3.Individual friends at my church, Beachside (Christian Revival Churches) near to where I live at Anna Bay.

4.NSW State Archives at Kingswood

5.Visits to the site of accident at Mt Colah.

6.VMTC

7.Trove

8.National Film & Sound Archive.

INTRODUCTION

The story of my 10 Year Journey to Freedom

Psalm 118:17: I will live to tell what God has done.

This book is the result of ten years of hard work from 2007. With help from so many sources, I am free from the burden of P.T.S.D. Of course, I still have my moments but if the need arises, I can now tell my story.

The side effects of P.T.S.D. after so many years are not necessarily cured, but are lessened with professional help, and prayer and family support.

Therefore, the sooner one gets professional help, the better.

But NEVER keep an insult of one’s body or soul to ones’ self.

SPEAK it out to someone.

1

MY MUM (ALMA DOROTHY)

M y Mum was liked by anybody who knew her. She had a younger sister, Beryl. Their mum, Lavinia died at age 22 from bubonic plague in Sydney 1918. They were sent to stay with rellies with kids of similar ages. They were very happy there. Her Dad (Alexander David Warren) was a tin miner at Emerald Qld, so only came to visit every few months. Mum told me that she was a bit cheeky on one such occasion so Aunt chastised her. Her Dad was offended so put the girls in an orphanage. The one I remember them speaking of was Del Mackie - one of several apparently. Aunt Beryl told me that they were not good mothers, as they didn’t learn how to be, as the orphanages were such awful places back then. Anyway their Dad came back eventually and advertised for a live-in housekeeper. Her hubby had been killed in WW1 and she had three kids, two boys, one (Dave) the same age as Mum, Jean a bit older, & Ira the eldest. So she was a typical step-mother, always preferring her own children. She and my grandfather eventually married and had three boys, Lionel (called Boy), Lester and Robert (Bob).

Grandma Warren had a small factory for housedresses. The girls had to work there from a young age. When Mum turned eighteen, Jean told her she could get a job somewhere else now. Of course Mum went to apply at one place and was asked if she could do cartridge pleats to which she answered yes so when she started the job she just copied the others.

The family attended a wedding and the band’s drummer took a fancy to my Mum, who was probably about nineteen years old. When their wedding was brought up, Mum was told to wait till she was twenty- one. Her birthday was 18th September. Dad (Arthur Edward Channon) was seven years older than Mum so they were married on his birthday, 27th November 1935.

One year later, in 1936, I arrived at their house at Bennalong St. Granville, next-door to his parents’ house.

When I was one year old they bought a fifteen acre block of land on Woodpark Rd. Smithfield. One acre on the corner of Percival Rd. and Woodpark Rd. belonged to a (dark) Italian family with two girls much my age. The dad came and asked my dad if they could have our olive tree, so he and some mates transplanted it. To thank Dad, he gave him a bottle of his home made wine. Dad considered it awful so he played a joke on my maternal grandfather who tried it, then put sugar in it and declared it good. He got to take it home.

Later, they later came down very distressed as their girls were sick. So Dad called a doctor. They hated coming down our cobblestone road. It turned out the girls had got into the home brew enough to make them vomit! How embarrassing.

My same Grandad and Grandma used to come and take the girls and me to Sunday School until one day the girls explained that their priest said they shouldn’t go any more as they were cattle girls (meaning catholic girls). We went from there to Balmain and Roselle for eighteen months for Dad’s work at Cockatoo Docks – for WW11 - as an oxy welder. Our grandparents Warren lived in the Smithfield house to save it for us.

So back again. Mum and Dad joined a friendly group of neighbours to play cards occasionally. Dad went in a ballot for a taxi plate. After trying to sell veggies, flowers, chooks and eggs at markets to make a living just after WWII, he drove a taxi from Burwood. He also rescued a silly red setter dog. Trudy (my girlfriend) and I would go on bike rides along the open canal and silly Rusty would fall in the canal, chasing birds, over and over.

When Jim came along he became her white haired boy. The first time he came to our house it was after church for lunch. Jim even wore long trousers (rare) and his beautiful fine checked sports coat. As usual we had meat and salad. Now Mum went all out with salad. She put everything in them, orange, apple, banana as well as the staples and, on this occasion, a SLUG. I knew nothing of it for a few years but many years later Jim told Mum. She was mortified – to the point of denial. He said that at the time he just put it into his coat pocket