A cul de sac when the lights are red - Philippe's Story

southyarra

My family have been in South Yarra since 1860. And here we are in 2014. Continuous occupation. All my working life I’ve been here. We came back to Australian in 1954, when I was five. My father was an Australian in the British Army. And we were stationed in Malaya and Singapore, and then came back to our family home that’s been in the family since 1880, where my dear old mum still lives, on the home straight to 90. Fighting fit, so I think she’ll be there for a long time to come. So Punt Rd has been a big part of my life.

Early memories of it were: we used to play on the banks of the Yarra. That was our total playground. And we’d range up and down, we’d frighten the old homeless men who used to camp out near the Anderson St Bridge. We were the cowboys, they were the Indians. So we would stalk them and creep through the bushes until they saw us. Then we’d scream off on our bikes and find someone else to annoy.

We used to ride to the old Olympic Pool, which is long gone now. That was before the new Olympic Pool built for the 1956 Olympics came in. But all that area was our playground. One of our great desires, as little boys, was to be able to ride our bikes non-stop from Alexander Ave to Domain Road.  That was a sign of manhood, if you could do that. Up the hill. But in that era, there were no gears, so you were standing on the pedals to get them to go. So it really was a big effort.

I made it up eventually but there were a lot of dry runs. If our parents knew... but traffic was nothing like now. My old pal Mike, he and I say so many times that you could walk across Punt Rd with your eyes shut and you weren’t in any danger. There was just the odd car that came up and down. You would never see 10 cars at once on the hill, or anything like that. It really is very different. 

But that whole run of Punt Rd was great. If you go over the hill, over Domain Rd, and down on the left, Shipley St was on the left, and the Stockdale Bakery was there. And that was an old-fashioned bakery, the horse and carts used to come around South Yarra with Stockdale’s Bakery on it, I’ve got images of that. We’d go and buy our bread. We’d also call in there after school and they’d give us a roll or something like that. Or if our parents sent us round to buy it, we’d develop the technique of making a hole in the corner of the bread, and then you’d peel out all the bread, and my mother would then put the knife on to cut it and it would go crunch because there was no substance inside.

And then when we were late teens, if we were coming home from a party or a ball, we would call into Stockdale’s – because that’s when they were baking – and the smell of it was magnificent, and we’d buy some fresh bread to take home for breakfast. That was lovely. That was pulled down late ‘60s, 1970s, something like that. And it’s now a group of townhouses.

Many of the huge old mansions were still there when I was a little boy. A lot of those have now been demolished and there are blocks of flats in their place. But those mansions weren’t being used as mansions – they were divided into flats or they were boarding houses. In the old days, there weren’t as many blocks of flats around so people lived in the old mansions – usually a widow would run it. That was quite a respectable way to live. With a communal bathroom and kitchen.

There were rooming houses and there were boarding houses. Rooming houses were the lesser, and they normally had returned men from the war in gaberdine coats and hats, and carrying a gladstone bag, usually with about 4-5 bottles of beer to see them through the night. You’d hear them going past going clunk clunk clunk with the bottles. Whereas a boarding house was more upmarket, and that meant that you were fed. You would sit at a communal table for breakfast and dinner. And those places flied or died on their tables. So if Mrs Bloggs was known as a good cook, she had good customers. So that was the way a lot of it was done.

There used to be a pub on the corner of Shipley St and Punt Rd, way before my time. I think it was the Clarendon Hotel. I’ve got a photo of it but later on it became the outlet for the bakery. There are fabulous buildings such as Airlie, the police academy, I’ve got extensive history on that. And directly opposite was the German Embassy, which was recently sold, and there’s a tunnel, which I’ve seen, which stretches under Punt Rd and, reputedly during the war, Airlie was taken over by the military and they would go through to the German Embassy, I suppose to negotiate peace or something. I’ve seen it, I’ve got a photo of it, I think. The police have been there for many years. That was a big fancy mansion.

Opposite is Pulman House on the south-west corner. And that was a Church of England home for elderly women. And that was sold off in the late ‘70s and renovated into a private house. Originally the Pulman family, who were very wealthy early Melbourne people, they owned it. 

I went to a school called Yarra Bank, which is now defunct. I went there between 1954 and 1956. And it was a ‘dame school’. A dame school is where unmarried daughters would earn their living by running schools for young people. Some developed into senior schools but most were prep or junior schools. Only a small number of students. That ran, I think my sister, who’s two years younger than me, I think she was about the end of it. I’m 65 in August, so I left at the end of ’55. I was there two years. I think my sister was there another two years. Miss Mary and Miss Quinlan ran that. That was in Major Davidson’s old house dating back to the 1840s, now demolished, now a scungey block of flats. But I’ve got a lot of history on that. I used to walk there from my parents’ house on Murphy St, with my mum, not by myself, I was only a little tacker. And walk down to Davidson St. I always remember we had afternoon sleeps. And here I am at nearly 65, on a Monday, what do I do? I fall asleep on the couch. So the wheel turns.

There was a racecourse at the bottom of Darling St. On what the council insist on calling Darling Gardens. It’s official name was always Polly’s Park. Polly was a dog. It was Mrs Goolay’s dog. And all the locals called it Polly’s Park. The racecourse was there in the 1800s. It was wasteland, thistles, all sorts of stuff. Sidney Myer created Como Park and created Alexander Ave, and he did that in the 1929 Depression to create employment. He financed all of that. When Alexander Ave came through, two developers – Reg Biffen and Howard Lawson – bought all the land from the railway bridge down near Darling St up to Punt Rd. They basically developed all the flats, all the Beverly Hills. I can talk to you for hours about those two. Amazing guys. And they were very young when they did it.

Most of the building materials came from demolished commercial buildings and mansions. Lawson was the world champion bricklayer in 1911. That was laying bricks for the Britania or Britanica Hotel. They fell foul of the labour laws of the time. As a result, Lawson went to jail. His family were horrified and they won’t talk about him. The daughter lives at Tweed Heads, I’ve known her for 40 years, and she won’t talk. I was told they burnt everything. All the records. Because of the shame.

And there were vineyards on both sides of Punt Rd. Ogilvie had the vineyard on the western side, and that ran from Domain Rd down to Alexander Ave. Colonel Davidson had the vineyard on the eastern side. The eastern side was okay; the western side the grapes were not much good.

I’ve got a lot of great history on the houses around there. Sadly a few of them are gone. I’ve got a photo of the punt, of the pedestrian zigzag bridge that came next, and of the new bridge, which I think was 1939. 

Of course the other great feature there is the magnificent golden elm tree. On the corner of Alexander. But that’s only been there since the war. It’s probably 70-years-old. 

There were the Pleasure Gardens in Cremorne and there were some others further up, to the upstream side of the Chapel Bridge. That’s wrong – where they were is now a park in Richmond, behind the wall of the freeway, and the old bluestone quarry is there. That’s where the first hot air balloon went up.

There was a famous murder, down past Wesley, between High St and the Junction. I don’t think he was a gangster but he was shot on a vacant block and he lived in Walsh St. And about 25-years-ago there was a neo-Nazi bloke shot with double-barreled shotgun, just behind a house on Punt Rd, which became a massage parlour. 

My brother-in-law is John Wren's grandson. They’re all entrenched Collingwood supporters. He’s a QC so about as far from a criminal as you can get. He’s very nervous about his grandfather but I keep saying, 'In the modern world he’d be a successful businessman.' It was only in that time.

There used to be a fake Elizabethan Hotel, on the Yarra, by Punt Rd bridge in Richmond. It was demolished when that slipway to the freeway came through. There was a famous murder of a sailor there. It would’ve been in the ‘50s. You’d need to look at Truth or something. When I was a kid we were always told never go near that place because of the crowd. The rough crowd that were there.

I work in real estate and, on a Saturday, we’ve got to get from A to B very quickly. And you would never in your wildest use Punt Rd. After a while you get to know all the shortcuts. Punt Rd is never a shortcut. As for a strategy: only avoidance. There’s nothing else. I always laugh, whenever we’re selling a property on Punt Rd, and people complain that it’s noisy, I always say, 'No no no, it’s a cul de sac when the lights are red.' 

Between High St and the Junction, there used to be the Taiping Chinese Restaurant. My grandparents would never let me go there – they said they used to kill cats. Not real of course – that was the story. So all my life I could never walk into that restaurant. A couple of times when I was in my 20s or 30s people would say, 'We’re going to the Taiping for dinner', and I’d say, 'No, thanks, can’t do that.' It’s not a Chinese restaurant anymore.

I went to Christchurch, the school up here on the corner of Toorak Road. I was there from ’56 till the end of ’60. The traffic wasn’t an issue. My grandparents wouldn’t let me walk on the south side of Toorak Road, because that’s where all the bad people lived. Toorak Rd was very much northside, southside. They weren’t bad, they were mainly Greek immigrants. And my grandmother was French so why she had that set, who knows? But as a kid all those Fawkner and Argo Streets were great, but in earlier times streets like Argo St were quite dangerous. They had all the sly grogs, the SP bookies, there were murders. It was all in that Argo Hotel, that later on became very civilised but used to be a real bloodhouse. 

The bookies in the laneways always had a cockatoo, a man who was on watch. So if the police came anywhere near he’d give a shrill whistle and they’d all bolt. I’d never heard the term until 20 years ago. We sold a property on Oxford St in South Yarra down by Chapel St, and there was an SP bookie that used to work the lane there. And dear old Sol was filling me in on that. 

Very different now. I used to get a shilling for a hessian bag of horse manure. Sixpence a bag for oak leaves, when I was a kid. So every time the horse and cart went past – because you’ve got your ice, meat, fruit, bread, milk – all delivered by horse. This was in the ‘50s, early ‘60s. You’d go scurrying out and chase with the old pan you clean the hearth with, and you’d have the broom and the thing, and your mother would go nuts, sweeping up horse poo with her indoor brush. 

I'd sell the manure to Mrs Goolay who lived on the corner. For her garden. My other claim to fame with her, she lived at 67 Murphy St, she had a kitchen with slate paving, in the early ‘60s. One day I walked into the kitchen with her son Russ and she said, 'I’m so proud, I’ve bought these unbreakable glasses. Would you like to have a drink in the unbreakable glasses?' I held up the glass and dropped it. Of course it hit the slate and shattered into a million pieces. She went nuts. And I said, 'Mrs Goolay, you told me it was an unbreakable glass.' She said, 'Not on bloody slate!'

Image credits:
Courtesy of the State Library Victoria: www.slv.vic.gov.au
Photograph of the punt on the Yarra River, Melbourne.
Date(s): 1872.
Copyright status: This work is out of copyright.

Belonging to Richmond Football Club - Geraldine's Story

grass

I speak to a lot of people who have a lot of these stories all the time. The commonality with it all is that it’s a sense of belonging for them. They belong to something greater than themselves. There are many requests for scattering ashes, either on Punt Road Oval – which we can’t do because they burn the grass – but they’ll divot, they’ll have ceremonies. Since the oval’s been completed, there’ve probably been up to 14 occasions. They’re not all on the oval. They’ll go to the Jack Dyer statue which is out this side of the building. They’ll go on there with flowers, they’ll take photos, one had a Salvation Army pastor to conduct a ceremony on the farewell. That’s how passionate they are.

Tiger Turf - Roland's Story

tiger

I’ve been a member of Richmond Football Club for almost 50 years. I’ve missed one game in the past 41 years. Doesn’t matter where it’s played. I started following the Tiges in 1964. Parents both followed footy but didn’t push me one way or the other. The first week at school two kids had Richmond jumpers on and that was it. Within a year I was cutting out every Richmond article in the paper. Getting the cornflakes to get the Richmond badge out of it and fighting with my brother and cornflakes going all over the kitchen floor.

I’ve been pretty full on involved with RFC – I got involved 27 years ago, in one of the supporter groups. I was involved with the membership department for a long time. Used to head up my own membership team at the MCG until six or seven years ago. Was involved in the inaugural historical committee, which we started in 1991. It’s been a long haul.

There are only two of us left from that inaugural one. When we finally got a space, which was the old cricket club boardroom, at the time the CEO was Jim Malone and he said, 'We’ve found this space, guys, would you like to do something?' We said, 'Fantastic.' Then we had to find a carpet layer who barracked for Richmond, an electrician who barracked for Richmond, I did some painting and whatever but we got there. It leaked and the rats got in but it was something. Everyone who came there loved it. That was the start of it. 

Then with the Punt Rd redevelopment, the biggest redevelopment the ground’s ever had, we managed to secure this area here in the old Jack Dyer Stand. The stand’s just turned 100 years old so it’s the perfect place for a museum. 

Richmond first played here at the Punt Road Oval in 1885. The RFC as we know it. There would’ve been more games here during the war, of course. The MCG was used for the soldiers and covered in tents. Grounds like Punt Rd, the old Junction Oval, used to be St Kilda’s home ground, was also used. There were even finals played on some of those away grounds as well during that time. Other teams like Melbourne did play games here. The cricket has always been here – it started off as the Richmond Cricket Club ground. There used to be tennis courts here, a long time ago.

There was a big tree out to the side there. In the early days, they used to get up there and start screaming, 'Eat ‘em alive.' I’ve even got part of that original tree here in the museum. It was pulled down 85-90 years ago. When they chopped it down – it was a massive big tree – and when they were building the king stand, which then became the social club building, they were doing the excavation, there was this perfect red gum stump there so they carved off a few bits of it.

We moved to the MCG in ’64. To raise a bit of money the club had go-cart races out here on the ground. Wouldn’t have done the ground much good because it was basically a swamp out there most of the year. It’s seen a lot of things: functions, weddings, funerals. It’s the whole gamut of people’s lives around Richmond.

I don't remember my first visit to Punt Rd Oval. My dad says he brought me here for a game of footy when I was three or four. I’ve got no real recollection of it. My main recollection is hopping off at Richmond Station, walking across, and along Brunton Ave there was some of the old turnstiles. On the corner of Punt Rd/Brunton Ave was the old bar areas. They were falling down, the blackberries were over them. Sometimes I’d come down and watch training and go exploring. 

You get to the early ‘70s and Richmond was a powerhouse club. The steps up to the seats in the old Jack Dyer stand had rotted down. You couldn’t get up there. There were blackberries out the front. But geez you knew you were at the Richmond footy club. I can’t explain it – my arms are getting goosebumps – there was a buzz about the place: you were at Richmond. I can’t put it into words. You’re out there watching legends of the game training, the place was literally falling down. A couple of years later there was a fire and, rumour has it, one of the committee members set fire to it to get the insurance money. But it hasn’t been confirmed and I won’t mention his name.

My first memories are coming to a place that’s literally been let go and is falling down, because they’d moved to the MCG. So long as the grass was cut and the players could train, they were pretty much happy with that. I’ve lived through most of the changes and had a lot of involvement with a lot of them too. It’s been a good journey.

There were a lot of characters. A number of years ago before the Jack Dyer Stand was refurbished, I went up to the CEO of the time. I said, 'Can I have a look through the ceiling of the stand?' He said, 'That’s fine, come in one Sunday and have a look through.' Up in the changerooms there used to be a little trapdoor. So I climbed up and there’s all these mint condition beer cans from the 1960s. Turns out there were several players that used to get up there, hide from the coach, and basically get pissed. After the game and training nights.

Mal Brown was a character in himself, an interesting guy. He was champion in Perth, came across here in ’74, would’ve been a premiership player but he biffed somebody and got rubbed out. Mal thought, 'I’ll put Charlie on the spot.' Charlie was an elderly gentleman at this point and used to ride a pushbike. So Mal went and got Charlie’s pushbike and chained it to the front fence of the brothel. And photographed it. Poor old Charlie.

Around 1989-90 the club was in big trouble financially. We had an endangered species campaign over two years. And, at the time, Punt Rd was being widened. We came up with this idea, and it was one of the most successful fundraising ideas the club’s ever done. Let’s get the dirt, as they dug up what was the ground, let’s sell Tiger Turf. So we brought in 100,000 of these little jars. We all went down there for a couple of days and sat there for eight hours, putting dirt into jars, putting the cap on, wiping them down, then putting a label on them: Tiger Turf. And we raised tens of thousands of dollars. Just purely based on the love of the Punt Rd ground, from the supporters, they wanted their piece of Punt Rd. To this day, people will come into the museum and say, 'I’ve got my jar of Tiger Turf at home.' That’s what Richmond, Punt Rd is about. We’re here, purely because of the supporters, not the corporate people, it was the run-of-the-mill supporters that saved the club.  

The most moving time of my life was that time, you’d have kids come down with a money box, 'This is all I’ve got but will it help save the club?'

There was a rumour that someone was buried out there, 60 or 70 years ago. But it probably is a rumour. The club did have its own cat, Moggy, for a long time. When Moggy died a few years ago there was a little ceremony and she was buried down in the goal square. 

We’ve still got our home. We’ve never left. We’ve always been here. People come into the museum and they talk about Richmond, and it always gets back to Punt Rd. A lot of them live in Ringwood or Werribee now, but they talk about grandma who used to live in Richmond and that’s why the family follow Richmond. 

If you go back 100 years it was Richmond and that was the suburb and everyone stuck together. There were various football teams in Richmond as well as the RFC. It was all about your suburb. You had picture theatres, the Richmond rowing club, you name it. It was all here.

In the old days it was a working class suburb. Richmond had their own brewery. There was the Heinz factory. It was an industrial area. Bootmakers and all that sort of thing. They were their own little group and they employed their own people. It really was like its own little country almost.

Personally, I’d cut Punt Rd off, because all roads should lead to the Richmond Football Club.

A tiptop bit of geography - Bill's Story

richmond

I started following Richmond in 1943. I’m 80 years of age now. 1943, I was a 10-year-old at school. A classmate said, 'Who do you barrack for?' I thought, oops... Richmond had just been premieres so I immediately said Richmond. A couple of other guys said Richmond. Whilst 1943 we’d won the premiership, this was post the premiership, I didn’t know I was going to wait another 24 years till we saluted again. But my friend, named Bruce, nominated Richmond as his club, and he lived nearby.

We then went to every Punt Rd game. I’m 11 at this stage. It was easy to get to Punt Rd on public transport – we lived in Caulfield. We’d get a tram that took us down to Acland St where the bus came straight to the ground. And, apart from two years when I played football, I missed three games only in 50 years. Of which, all those years post war, till we moved to the MCG, which was 20 years, I missed three games of footy, but only one of them was at Punt Rd.

So on the journey I saw every game at Punt Rd which was Saturday afternoon. Always. Every second week. No-one would have seen more games here, in that period. My origins started because of the ’43 premiership. In those 50 years where I did miss three games, I was appointed to various jobs here. One as a statistician. And in 25 years as a statistician I didn’t miss a game. Seconds, firsts or practice games, interstate, everywhere. So that accumulated nearly 1200 games without a miss officially. So my involvement as a statistician developed from my early interest. I’ve always kept details, stats and scrapbooks. So the club identified me, and appointed me club historian in 1986. Which is getting towards 30 years ago. And the origins of the museum and where we’re at now, and the history, had a bit of a starting point.

Initially when we started getting goodies coming in, the club announced that we now have a club historian, and we’d be happy to collect bits and pieces. We had many players say, 'Oh that’s good, I’ve got it in the garage or under the bed or when I go it’ll go with me.' So there was a couple of cubby holes in the old building. One was a disused toilet where we stacked boxes. Those places got filled. And I did give up a room at home. And in the end, before we got the museum, I could only sidle my way in and out of the room with boxes and bits and pieces.

The origins of our collections, or donations, really started when I was appointed, because there was someone official, recognised by our supporters, and the bits and pieces that have come since is a flow-on from knowing there is a resting place, where it can be shared, by supporters. The supporters love it. One of our famous guys, Jack Dyer, in our former museum, he spent nearly one day going down just one wall. Long before we had something established quite like this. Players love to see bits and pieces. You could have a player say, 'What do I got to do to get my jumper?' The answer is, 'Give us one.'

The beaut thing is we endeavoured to get a team photo of every year. When the team photos were taken, on that day there may have only been the 18 or 19 selected. Some would be in the seconds or injured. But the team photo wasn’t inclusive of the whole list for that year. We had footballers coming in, with grandsons, showing them the photo with grandpa in or dad and, oops, on the day of the photo… So what we did then we researched everyone who played in that year, we identified everyone in the photo, and they went way back. We also had underneath: ‘Also played’. So if grandpa was injured on that day, grandson wasn’t disappointed: 'You told me Grandpa you played for Richmond and you’re not in that photo.' So little things like that where former players are proud of it, proud to show off to their children, grandchildren, and the supporters. And even a lot of staff here now who don’t have Richmond origins but our history is here. We did have one group of management here said, 'We’ve got no interest in the history – it’s today or tomorrow.' But I’ve never seen a house or anything built that didn’t have a foundation. So we’ve got a good example here, back to 1885.

I can remember my first visit to Punt Road Oval in 1944. The bus pulled up out here and with a child’s member ticket you came in the grandstand area. And it had a smell: the ground was one-third quagmire type. You could see patches of green, patches that weren’t mud anyway. As you ran down the race you were straight away covered in mud. This was in the middle of winter. It had a smell of, a sour smell, like damp. Yet that was Punt Rd.

Down the end of the grandstand there was a bar area. We used to have halftime entertainment here, better than the halftime entertainment they had over there. There was one older fellow, I was young so everyone was older, he had a long coat on and a hat. At halftime he took it upon himself to enter the ground and protrude onto the ground. He wasn’t supposed to be there. He’d run out on the green bits, which wasn’t easy. And the ground would erupt, 'Here he is!' Then the police would come to chase him. This was like those Keystone Cops. The nearer they got to him, he’d slip and slide and they’d slip. And we used to look forward immensely to this fellow, you’d get a half the game start at the bar, so his courage was there.

I remember when the guy went round the ground with peanuts for thruppence a bag. At halfway he’d walk round. Say they had an end of season trip coming or a wedding, they used to march around with a big tarpaulin, say four people, one each corner. They’d march round the ground and you’d throw coins. If you were near the boundary, come this opportunity of the canvas collection thing, you’d get hit on the head with a 20c piece. So that was a bit of comedy and you’d see kids running round hoping that two shillings didn’t make it in.

It was just such a 'look forward' routine. You knew which bus you got on, every second week, and if it was Collingwood, Fitzroy, Carlton or St Kilda. There was a tram you could get. We went on trams to virtually every game. Saying I didn’t miss a game, that included their away games. Looking forward to this Saturday afternoon, growing through my adolescent years, right up until they moved.

As the bus gathered passengers on the way, you’d see these regulars get on in their Richmond regalia. I can still visualise this bus – it was a green bus – you nearly had the same seat. It was this Saturday ritual. It pulled up right out front the oval. You were there at the doorstep. The bus was just ideal. 

I guess I liked the bus trip too. I was 11 initially. We used to get on a tram, then a bus that got us onto Acland St, so it was really two buses. My friend Bruce lived on the bus route. You’d nearly see the same people on the same bus. 11-years-old, your parents say you can go to the footy, it was safe to go in those days. You don’t probably think of any danger in those years.

On the way home, you did it in reverse. And most times it was a loss. But we always had Brownlow Medalists in that time. We always had some star players. Collectively we only made the finals in 1947. In 1947 we played the first semi-final against Fitzroy and got beaten. We didn’t play another final till ’67.

More often we lost than won, but we had some icon players who stood out. I remember sticking up for myself and Richmond: often the better of the two teams may not have played the best game. We’re a pretty rugged lot here. We had some wild men. We had a guy named Mopsey Fraser who was mad. The lovely individual thing about Mopsey Fraser, rightly named because all his hair went out curly, at the start of the match, he wet it, so he came out looking spivvy. And then all of a sudden, as the game progressed, it’d… Beautifully nicknamed, beautifully cartooned. He actually got reported in his football career to the point where he missed 83 games. Not all of them here – he went on to coach Port Melbourne. 

What kept you interested back then: the personalities. We had another guy named Jeff Patterson. He became an entrepreneur, he rigged an Australian boxing title, he did everything that was a bit different. He drove big Cadillacs or something. He went into a hotel in Tassie. He was one of the first people to introduce overseas artists to this hotel in Tassie. Mopsey Fraser became a partner with him. On three occasions they stole their own safe and claimed the insurance.

To get into the footy ground, there was a plan adopted by young children. I didn’t do it but I did see them do it. Gather up a player as he’d be walking to come to the match, with a kit bag, every player had a kit bag. And they came by public transport the same as us, a lot of them. A lot of them lived around Richmond. So the plan was, and Charlie Calendar developed it, say to the player, 'Can I carry your bag?' And of course that got him in for nothing. And that was a thing you did back then.

There were holes round the fence you could climb through anyway. And I knew of them too. I can honestly say I never did. I always had a season ticket. But the kids that were short of thruppence, which was what it cost to get in. Charlie did that way, way back, this would be the ‘30s. As a result he was always round the rooms and he developed the role that they now call the Property Steward. Insomuch as he wheedled his way in and looked after the chewing gum. He was very thrifty, he cost the club little, because just using chewy as an example: he’d cut them in half and then if you wanted the other half you had to trade in the first bit. 

Charlie was the inaugural because, when the interstate teams developed, they were annual games, Charlie got appointed as the Property Steward to travel with them. The other terrific thing about him, he was so ‘cartoonable’. He had an extended nose, he always rolled his own cigarettes, he could keep it in his mouth till it got right down to the burny bit, his chin nearly went up to his nose. I’m not trying to paint him as ugly – he just had the right face for the job.

The players had to bring their own socks and shorts and take it home. Charlie’s wife, for many years, washed the jumpers. He saved them money. He got all these interstate trips – some of this collection of goodies, some of the stories he could tell, his initiatives to get into the ground for nothing. He died, he got to about 80. In his later years they gave him a title of Property Adviser here. He was just so much of Richmond for 60 or 70 years.

I can remember Punt Rd, in the ‘60s, I would come with my father and Uncle Tom (not an uncle but a close friend). We would drive from Caulfield, up Punt Rd, to an area that’s between Swan St and down at the freeway. There was a big hotel down on the corner – it’s gone now. We’d park the car as near as we could to the pub because, in 1966, prior to that it was six o’clock closing. You could park on Punt Rd all day and we’d get on the other side, about equal distance to the ground, so we had to walk to the ground, but then we’d walk straight down to the pub.

The game would finish at around five o’clock. By the time we got to the hotel it’d be quarter past, we knew we had three-quarters of an hour, and our car was nearby. Often I can remember a bit before, this side street that’s up beside the pub, if you got here early enough, we could park the car there, and we had a car you couldn’t lock, it had a dickie seat in the back and the canvas. We’d park there conveniently. It’s a clearway now, you can’t get anywhere near it. 

The lovely other thing here, Alice Wills is the only lady we’ve had as a life member of this club. She sadly died about a month ago. She ran a supporters club here – she ran this grandstand, the front six or eight roles, Alice controlled. This Uncle Tom, in the early ‘60s, I used to bring him in my car then. He was getting fragile in walking. We’d get a standing pozzie in front of the grandstand. And one day Alice Wills spotted me, who she knew reasonably well, not so much Uncle Tom. She said, 'Billy, your friend down there, he’s having difficulty standing down there all day, isn’t it? I’m going to ask all the ladies to move up one and Uncle Tom can come and sit up amongst all these ladies. There’s only one thing he’s got to do: every day we put in a shilling and vote on our best player.'

 

We had a player in the ‘60s, Paddy, whose dad also played for Richmond in the ’30s. I hear the yarns from Paddy who tells me yarns from his dad. Everyone who lived in Richmond barracked for Richmond. A lot of the players lived in Richmond. So two o’clock on Saturday Richmond moved from the residential, across Punt Rd, to the ground. And the rivalry, which is unique in the world, for a city where there used to be 12 teams, or 11 plus Geelong, to sustain a competition, with a population and a following, is world unique. If you cross Victoria St, from the Richmond location into Collingwood, well that was enemy territory. Every second Saturday afternoon, everything in Richmond stopped to attend the game. 

I can remember Graham Richmond, who became a powerhouse here, back in the ‘60s towards the ‘70s, he started buying up homes in Richmond. They were rundown. He had a group of tradesmen doing them up. So the suburb started to change from these, not flash homes, and it’s one suburb from the city, it’s got transport everywhere. So it’s a tiptop bit of geography to develop. The content and the people changed, as the pioneers of the suburb moved away, their families moved away a bit. Demographics changed.

There were no seatbelts back then. Deaths were a thousand a year when there wasn’t that many cars on the road. The dopey thing we used to do… The fact that we could conveniently park not far from the game, not far from the pub, we had an hour between the game finish and six o’clock closing… You could almost walk along Punt Rd faster than you could drive along it. Even though they have widened it, it’s still this conduit between north and south. You’ve got to get over the river.

Image credits:
Courtesy of the State Library Victoria: www.slv.vic.gov.au
Aerial view of Richmond, Victoria, showing Punt Road oval in foreground.
Creator: Airspy.
Copyright status: This work is out of copyright.

Happy here - Nga's Story

park

I’ve been in Melbourne for 31 years. I live in Richmond, but I work here at the Collingwood Neighbourhood House for 10 years.

I come here by car because I work with cooking so I need to travel by car. Sometimes it’s very busy, after work, heading back home. But in the morning it’s very good and fresh. I arrive at work and no problems. After 5 or 6pm is not a good time. That’s the busy time on weekdays. But weekends are beautiful, quiet. Except when the football is on.

The park is good here. I think if they do more park for children to play more people like to come. A family thing. We have a park over here. Behind here. We use it for festivals. A little bit not security, because the people living here are all drinking.

We do a shop every day on Victoria Street and I live close to there. Victoria Street is smaller. This one is a big one, so very happy, for cars. Over there, the community stays closer. We need more space – no more cars but more space. For parks.

I tried the train but I’m not good at the bus. I don’t know where they take us to. I used to do the train before I was driving. So easy for me and quick. Public transport is the best here in Melbourne. Especially in Richmond, we have everything.

I work with the elderly and they use maybe the bus more on Hoddle Street. And then tram and train. I think they’re happy with that. The only thing is the rough people, the drug dealers, they’re around here too much. So if we can solve that, it’s beautiful living here. The elderly people here, my community, they’re happy here. Everything here, the shops here, the people here.

I like to ride my bike - Mai's Story

bicycle

When I just arrived in Australia, I lived in Melbourne. For 23 years already. I live in Richmond, but I used to come to my friend and I started work this year in the Collingwood Neighbourhood House.

I travel to Collingwood from Richmond by bike every Tuesday. Volunteer job. I like all the Hoddle Street people. I like to ride my bike from my home to come here. I ride from the morning at about 9.30am and then I come home about three o’clock. I ride over the footbridge. I ride to the Collingwood Library. I love it.

Every year we have the Harvest Festival in April. Just finished. We cook and we serve for all the people all around. 

Scary - Halima's Story

My name’s Halima and I live in Richmond. I come to Collingwood Neighbourhood House sometimes – once or twice a week. I'm originally from Ethiopia. I've been in Melbourne for nearly 30 years.

Hoddle St is busy to drive where you want to go. I don’t use it often. I use a shortcut. There's too much traffic and the road is big, so I’m scared to enter sometimes. I’m scared of lots of cars and buses. I stick to the one side where I need to go. And still I’m scared.

warninglight

Traffic strategies - Kaukau's Story

puntroad

Hoddle St is a very, very busy street. I accept that fact that it is a very busy street, and you’ve got a lot of people plowing into it. I noticed this morning when I drove here, 'Whoa! This place is absolutely packed.' So I actually got off it. I ended up on Smith St.

You’ve got three or four lanes at any one given time. Peak hour traffic is just hectic. So I must admit I try to avoid this road during peak hour traffic. I will leave at the latest by quarter to five, because that way you get a perfect run along Hoddle St. And I tend to avoid Punt Rd, full stop. Unless I absolutely must travel down there. It’s a busy road, it’s Melbourne, it’s a city. I accept that fact.

It’s also the gateway from the Eastern Freeway, so you have so much traffic plowing in from the eastern suburbs. This place just gets hectic. But I have learnt to navigate: which lanes to jump into, at what part. At certain sections you know to jump into certain lanes, because some will slow down, some will speed up. At certain times it changes. 

Even if you’re getting onto the Eastern, you avoid like hell the two lefthand lanes until the last minute. People just accept the fact that somebody’s going to cut across, they do. There’s that road rage sort of thing but, for the most part, people are quite accepting to allow traffic to cut in.

I had a massive accident a year ago. But I’ve never broken down along Hoddle St or Punt Rd. I would hate to be that person. Once there’s an accident, it throws everything out. All your natural cues, everything is thrown. It’s like when you allow an emergency vehicle through. I’ve noticed that people just won’t move sometimes – peak hour traffic, but there’s nowhere to move anyway. But, even if there is, they’re more inclined to hold their little space.

I have a tendency to feel that, in a car, you’re quite isolated. And it’s quite different to cycling. In fact I try to stay off the road if I’m on a bicycle. Because drivers aren’t so friendly to the cyclists. So I get on the footpaths. 

Crossing Hoddle St, I don’t like to do it. It’s really busy, so I try to avoid crossing. Johnston St, in Abbotsford, I really don’t know what’s down there. I’ve got a vague idea, but I avoid going over there. Purely because it’s so busy and I’ll know I have to wait.

I haven’t used the footbridge in a long time. I think the last time I crossed that bridge was when I used to catch public transport. It’s a rare occasion. When all you see is traffic you think, 'Nah I don’t want to go out there.' Especially when I know I need to drive out into it. Just getting onto Johnston St to get onto Hoddle St, oh my gosh, that can be… If you don’t time it well, after 4 o’clock, even five minutes to, they change the signals so you can’t turn right. So you’ve got to time it or you’ve got to go through Collingwood, through the residential areas, and then make your way down to one of the other streets. If I miss those lights, I have to go down to Victoria St. So you’ve got to make sure you time it. 

I’m one of those people who takes the back roads. I get lost a lot.

The best place - Antonio's Story

boxing

God brought me to Australia. God told me he’d take me to Australia. In 1973 I was in South America, Peru. I found a job in a ship in Rotterdam and went to Peru, across the Panama Canal.

I arrived in Sydney in 1983. I was working as a cleaner. I was the best cleaner. I moved to Melbourne in 1985. First I lived in Clayton. Then I moved to Hoddle Street.

Hoddle Street is the best place. Everybody here at the Neighbourhood House recognises me. I’ve got a lot of friends here. I set up a boxing gym. My gym became a community gym.

There’s nothing wrong with Collingwood. Good suburb. Good people, bad people, everywhere you go. I don’t drive. I never drive in my life. Now I can’t because I had a stroke. I catch the bus everywhere. This place is very good for public transport. This place is the best place. I like to live here. Sometimes I think I may move to Queensland but others say, 'Don’t go there, because they don’t like black people.' I don’t care, I have friends everywhere.

Good old Collingwood forever - Bob's Story

victoriapark

I was born across the road in Easey Street, 83 years ago, lived here all my life. Collingwood used to be a working class suburb. I'm retired now. And I’m the caretaker at Victoria Park (the home of Collingwood Football Club).

Started working here around 1950. Used to be that someone had to die before you could get a seat in that stand. If you came to the football and I came to the football and I miss one Saturday, half the crowd would stand up and say, 'Where’s Bobby?' Because everyone knew everyone. Judges, lawyers, senior heart surgeons, once they walked through the gate, with their scarves and beanies on, everyone’s treated equal.

People said, 'I used to barrack for Collingwood.' No, you never. Once you’ve started barracking you never followed anyone else.

But the suburb’s changed, with all the trendies and people moving in. It’s an established area. I met some people in Easey Street, there was a fellow there, Hungarian he was. He bought a little place up the road, then he bought another little place next to it. Now he owns half of Easey Street. Nobody can imagine what he’s worth now.

Five hotels disappeared from Hoddle Street when the road was widened. There was one on the corner of our street, the Railway Hotel, it closed its doors on Christmas Eve 1972. The day my daughter was engaged. The Railway across the road, that closed up. The Town Hall Hotel further down. Sir Henry Locke was a pub on the corner there. They used to have Ladies Lounges. Women weren’t allowed to drink in the bar.

There used to be 33 hotels in Collingwood. One on nearly every corner. You couldn’t walk two blocks without a pub. Where all those new buildings are, used to be Yarra Falls. Knitting mills. Made suit material and stuff. The whole block they had. From near the river, around to Johnston Street, then down to the bridge, was Yarra Falls. So there was about two or three thousand people would storm out every night time and out into the pubs.

There used to be a blacksmith on the corner of Sackville Street here. And a Klein's chemist. The other corner was Sir Henry Locke Hotel. 

As kids, we used to go and play under the Riley Street drain before the freeway. We used to walk up to Clifton Hill, up towards Carlton. A big open drain it was. We used to come home from school and play in the street. Till its time to come inside and have your tea at night. We used to go round to the local picture theatre and leave your front doors open at night, to let a cool breeze come through. Now you go inside and lock yourself in your own house. But it’s still the same suburb, just different people in it now. 

I know a lot of people, they’d go home, if Collingwood got beat they wouldn’t eat.

Image credits:
Courtesy of the State Library Victoria: www.slv.vic.gov.au
Victoria Park, Collingwood.
Date(s): [ca. 1906]
Copyright status: This work is out of copyright.