Cream Puff Corner near my fathers childhood home (in Oct every year there are stalls selling produce and of course cream puffs or so I have been told)
I am sitting here today feeling very overwhelmed. I have just returned from the Port Broughton Heritage Centre in the old school building after fossicking in all the mountains of old records and memorabilia. What an amazing place and equally amazing collections all very well documented and Grace the lady in attendence was a wealth of information.
The ruins of my dad's childhood home
Unfortunately I haven’t been able to find any references to my father or to the period he was here from 1904 until 1928 when he left for Western Australia.
Was dad here in 1910?
The record books from his old school and I presume it was the Wokurna School later named the North Barunga School that he would have attended didn't shed any light and I was unable to unearth any photos of the school either. I did find references to some of his younger brothers and sisters but nothing prior to about 1924 so his younger life it is still very much a mystery to me. I don’t know if he ever played football or cricket or where he worked before leaving SA. I mean he must have worked or how would he get the money to travel to WA? Why did he go to WA? Was it because his older sister Jean was there? Who were his childhood friends? I may never find out unfortunately as it is all lost in the bowels of history.
The kitchen in the ruins of the house
I had a very informative afternoon tea yesterday with my Aunty Barbara and what a lovely amazing woman she proved to be. In her late eighties as sprightly as ever and with a mind as sharp as a tack, she baked an absolutely perfect carrot cake that left my offering of a lumberjack cake purchased at the local bakery desperately in the shade.
|The ruins from the side|
I also met my cousins Lynton and Sandra in their charming home last evening and quess what everyone she is a patchworker!!!! Lovely pieces of handicrafted work was on display everywhere I felt right at home. So my head is still spinning a little. Another cousin Roma just pulled up at the bus with her daughter Vicky we actually passed each other in the bakery but didn’t realise we were related. Grace mentioned us to them when we left the Heritage Centre. It is a very small world and it seems to be getting smaller by the minute. I haven't given up as yet and I am very determined to keep trying to find some information on my father.
Today my father would have been 107 years old if he was still alive.