Thanks to Stockland we were able to speak to some fantastic people at the start of 2016. We are now proud to be able to share their stories with you.
This lovely man has such a way with words.
A distinct memory from my childhood in North Fremantle is the smell of dead cats. Wherever I went I could smell them. I always knew there was a dead cat somewhere.
In those days you were dammed lucky if you wound up with an education. Us students were asked to put up our hands if we wanted to read and write. Those who wanted to learn raised their hands. I was one of those people. Those people who didn’t raise their hands just didn’t learn to read and write.
In those days you also had to share your lunch. I gave kids at school all my lunch because I wasn’t very hungry and I was a little better off than them. I never told my parents, I just gave it to them.
When we weren’t at school we used to make up go karts. This one kid went right to the top of the bridge and rode his kart down. By the time he got to the bottom there he had no kart left. We also used to dare each other to run over the wooden footbridge just after a puffer train had gone underneath it and the bridge was smouldering.
In later life, one of my sisters introduced me to a lady at my home in Bicton. She attached herself to me and the next thing I knew we were getting married! We enjoyed life as best we could but after five years or so she got sick. I know what she was thinking at the time she passed away. She was thinking of me. I put two love locks on a chain for her at the bell tower, saying ‘Until we meet again. Sleep well my love.’ We had 14 years together and I am grateful for that. She, from the early days, is my idol – she had the biggest impact on my life.