Kerry Wright - 1950

Kerry Wright

1950

Yes, Mr DeMille, I am ready for my close-up! 

My first, formal, studio portrait. Mum would have knitted the little ensemble I'm wearing, including the tiny baby booties with the satin ribbon ties. And I suspect the large kiss-curl atop my head is also, very probably, my dear mother's handiwork. 

My mother, Emily Flora Wright (known as Flora) nee Glover, was 38 when I was born in November 1949, and my father, Ray Wright, was 41. The brother nearest in age to me, Alan, was 9, and my other brothers, Robert and John, were 12 and 17, respectively. Because of the age difference between my brothers and me, I virtually grew-up as an only child. I have no recollection of John ever living at home, and only fleeting, peripheral memories of Robert being there. Alan married when I was 12 but was often out of the house throughout the years leading up to that. 

We lived in a funny little house, not far from South Narrabeen beach on Sydney's Northern Beaches. I slept on a partially open verandah, the seaward, east-end of which was open to the elements. I was lulled to sleep each night by the sound of the waves breaking on the nearby beach. It could be quite deafening on stormy nights. 

I once asked my mother, as children sometimes do, because of the age difference between my brothers and me, if my birth had been planned, or was it a "mistake". At that time, Mum assured me that I had been planned and wanted. Certainly, no parents could have ever loved or cherished their child any more than my parents loved and cherished me. Though Mum could be a strict disciplinarian, she was always fair and just. And Dad was a sweet, gentle man, who never once raised his voice to me, let alone his hand. I never doubted their unconditional love for me, which I returned in abundance.

Louisa Mary Glover with Robert, Alan & Kerry Wright - Early 1950

L-R: Alan Wright, Louisa Mary Glover, baby Kerry Wright (front) & Robert Wright

1950

My maternal grandmother, Louisa Mary (May) Glover nee Turner (1870-1960), cradling me in her arms, with my brothers, L-R, Alan and Robert Wright, standing behind. As I was born in November 1949, this photo would have been taken in early 1950. Nanny and Papa lived next door to us and I spent much time in their company during the first ten years of my life. I cherish many wonderfully happy memories of them both to this day.

Flora & Kerry Wright - January 1950

Flora Wright with baby Kerry Wright

January 1950

One of the few photos in my parent's album which identifies when it was taken. On the reverse of the photo is recorded "Kerry 8 weeks". As I was born in early November 1949, that means this lovely photo of my mother, Emily Flora Wright (known as Flora) nee Glover, cradling me in her arms, was taken in early January 1950. My family lived in Mactier Street at Narrabeen on Sydney's Northern Beaches, only a short walk from South Narrabeen beach, where this photo was probably taken. We spent much of our leisure time there. January is the height of summer in Australia and one of the hottest times of the year, so I'm sure Mum would have been most grateful for the generous shade provided by that big old beach umbrella.

Flora & Kerry Wright - 1 January 1950

Flora Wright with baby Kerry Wright

1 January 1950

I'm not entirely sure when this beautiful "Madonna & Child" image of my mother, Flora Wright, cradling me in her arms dates from, but my birth in early November 1949 certainly narrows down the probabilities. Personally, I would like to think it was taken on 1 January 1950 - the day of my baptism at St Faith's Church, Narrabeen, on Sydney's Northern Beaches. Just a guess, but I suspect I may be right.

George Henry & Louisa Mary Glover - ca.1950

George Henry & Louisa Mary Glover

ca.1950

In the absence of a date, I am guessing this photo of my maternal grandparents, George Henry (1874-1960) and Louisa Mary (1870-1960) Glover, was taken some time around 1950.  My family lived at 10 Mactier Street, Narrabeen, on Sydney's Northern Beaches, and my grandparents lived next-door at number 8.

They passed away within just a few short months of each other in 1960, when I was 10. I can still see them clearly in my mind's eye and have vivid recollections of sitting on their front verandah with Nanny when I was just a small child, listening to the stories she told me. They kept budgerigars in a cage on the verandah, and also had a bright yellow canary named Dickie in a cage of his own. The chirping and chatter of the caged birds provided a constant accompaniment to my grandmother's story telling.

Because Nanny's presence on her verandah was such an established feature of the local landscape (she sat there and read the Sydney Morning Herald every morning), cars would gently beep their horns at her in greeting as they drove past. I remember Nanny would wave to them cheerily and then turn to me with a big grin and a wink and say, "I wonder who that was."

On my way to school each morning, I would call in on Nanny to wish her a good day. I usually found her in her darkened, Victorianesque bedroom, cluttered with porcelain vases and figurines, brushing her long white hair vigorously. After many strokes of the brush, it was ultimately fashioned into a bun at the back of her head, often held in place with a delicate black hair-net. From what I remember, Papa was usually pottering in his garden while all this was going on. He loved his garden and took a great deal of pride in it. I can still conjure-up the beautiful fragrance of his sweet peas to this very day.

Mum and Aunty Glad cared for Nanny through her final illness. Mum later told me that she had suggested to Papa that perhaps he might be more comfortable in another bed during that sad time. Apparently he responded that he had been sleeping alongside his beloved May for the past 70 years and wasn't about to change beds any time soon. And that's exactly where he was, sleeping beside her, when she passed away. He died not long after at nearby Manly Hospital, following a massive haemorrhage.

 They are pictured above in their front garden at 8 Mactier Street, Narrabeen, on Sydney's Northern Beaches. They rest beside each other at Northern Suburbs Memorial Gardens & Crematorium in Sydney's North Ryde.

Royal Easter Show 1948

L-R: Robert Wright, Gladys Murrell, Alan Wright, Flora Wright

Royal Easter Show

1948

One of the few photos from the collection of my parents which records a date. On the reverse of this photo is written "Royal Easter Show 1948". It shows my mother, Flora Wright (R), with her sister, Gladys Murrell (Aunty Glad) and my brothers, Robert (L) and Alan (R) Wright. 

The Royal Easter Show is an annual event held at Easter each year, where Sydney's city folk get to experience, albeit tentatively, various aspects of rural life. Farmers and graziers from across country New South Wales bring their animals and produce to the city, to exhibit them in such variously diverse categories as "Best Bull" to "Best Lamington" and everything else in between, vying for the highly sought after and much prized ribbons and accolades awarded to the winners. 

As well as the animals and produce, there are also sideshows, rides, and junk food in abundance, all set amidst the bustling, manic atmosphere of Sydney Showground at Moore Park (since relocated to Homebush Bay in recent times). 

For children, one of the most exciting aspects of attending the Royal Easter Show is collecting show bags. At the time this photo was taken, show bags notoriously contained cheap toys, lollies and assorted tat, but were highly prized by children. My mother can be seen holding a couple of such show bags in this photo. Their more upmarket, modern equivalents are still available at the Show to this day. 

My little family group shown here would have travelled from Narrabeen on Sydney's Northern Beaches for their exciting big day out. Though a return journey of just 46 kilometres (28 miles), and easily negotiated today, in those days it would have been an intricate undertaking, involving multiple bus/ferry/train commutes over several hours. An exhausting exercise for all concerned, but certainly not to be missed.

Robert Wright - ca.1947

Robert Wright

ca.1947

My brother, Robert Harry Wright, was the second son of our parents, Ray & Flora Wright. Robert was born in 1937 and I'm guessing this photo was taken about 1947, a couple of years before I was born. 

This is one of my favourite photos of Robert. It was taken before he reached adulthood. Before all his woes began. He was blessed with a superior intellect and sporting prowess in abundance, none of which seems to have transitioned with him to adulthood. Nowadays, it would probably be said that he peaked too early. 

My mother once told me that Robert had been involved in a surfing accident at nearby Narrabeen Beach when he was in his teens. A surf board had crashed into his skull in the surf and lifted his scalp. Mum said Robert wasn't the same boy after that. He left home when I was still an infant. I have little recollection of him ever living at home. 

He was destined to die of a cerebral haemorrhage at the  age of 45 on 22 May 1982. Contributing factors to his early death may have been the surfing accident and also the rough and tumble biffo of Rugby League, which Robert played with the Manly-Warringah team in his youth.

I remember once attending a football game he was playing in, when I was only a small child. It was at Long Reef Oval on Sydney's Northern Beaches. From a very low trajectory, because I was so little, I can still see Robert leaving the field at the end of that game. His face was covered in blood. My mother was standing beside me, with tears running down her sweet face. I can still see it to this day. Rugby League was an extremely brutal game back then in the 1950s. 

Robert was the most handsome and charismatic of my brothers. I wish I'd known him better.

Robert Wright - ca.1947

Robert Wright - ca.1947

My brother, Robert Harry Wright, was the second son of our parents, Ray & Flora Wright. Robert was born in 1937 and I'm guessing this photo was taken about 1947, a couple of years before I was born. 

This is one of my favourite photos of Robert. It was taken before he reached adulthood. Before all his woes began. He was blessed with a superior intellect and sporting prowess in abundance, none of which seems to have transitioned with him to adulthood. Nowadays, it would probably be said that he peaked too early. 

My mother once told me that Robert had been involved in a surfing accident at nearby Narrabeen Beach when he was in his teens. A surf board had crashed into his skull in the surf and lifted his scalp. Mum said Robert wasn't the same boy after that. He left home when I was still an infant. I have little recollection of him ever living at home. 

He was destined to die of a cerebral haemorrhage at the  age of 45 on 22 May 1982. Contributing factors to his early death may have been the surfing accident and also the rough and tumble biffo of Rugby League, which Robert played with the Manly-Warringah team in his youth.

I remember once attending a football game he was playing in, when I was only a small child. It was at Long Reef Oval on Sydney's Northern Beaches. From a very low trajectory, because I was so little, I can still see Robert leaving the field at the end of that game. His face was covered in blood. My mother was standing beside me, with tears running down her sweet face. I can still see it to this day. Rugby League was an extremely brutal game back then in the 1950s. 

Robert was the most handsome and charismatic of my brothers. I wish I'd known him better.

Dorothy Shiels with John, Robert & Alan Wright - ca.1945

L-R: John Wright, Dorothy Shiels, Alan Wright (front) & Robert Wright - ca.1945

This sweet photo of my three older brothers L-R John, Alan and Robert Wright with our cousin, Dorothy Shiels nee Murrell, who is also my Godmother, was taken some five years before I was born. I can has it a guess, however, as to the story behind it. 

When I was a child, Dorothy would take me for excursions to the City (we lived at Narrabeen on Sydney's Northern Beaches, some 23km [14 miles] from the City) to attend live theatre (children's matinees and pantomimes) and visit galleries and museums. And I'm guessing that's what she is doing with my brothers here. 

Such outings in Dorothy's company had a profound influence on my cultural awakening and upbringing and I will always be grateful to her for that. And they were exciting too, because they involved either a trip on the top-deck of the double-decker 190 Wynyard bus or a ferry trip across the Harbour from Manly. 

Alas, however, from what I remember of my brothers, their primary interests were in football and surfing, so I'm not sure that Dorothy's cultural expeditions had the same impact on them, as they did on me. 

My three older brothers had largely grown out of such things by the time I was old enough to join Dorothy on her outings and I had her all to myself. I was like an eager sponge, soaking-up everything she had to impart. I was a delicate, effete child, who was destined to grow-up gay, and had a natural, inherent interest in the arts. 

That's not to say my brothers didn't enjoy their outings with Dorothy. I'm sure they did. I can't help but think, however, that they may have been just as happy kicking a football around the back-yard at home. 

This was an era when people "dressed" to go to the City, even if it was just a mundane shopping trip. My mother has clearly spiffed-up my brothers in their Sunday best here and Dorothy looks resplendent in her 1940s ensemble and hairstyle.  

Ray, Flora, Robert & Alan Wright - ca.1945

L-R: Ray, Robert, Flora & Alan Wright - ca.1945

This lovely family snap of my mother and father, Ray & Flora Wright, with my bothers Robert (L) and Alan (R), was taken in Martin Place, Sydney. The famous northern colonnade of the GPO (now Westin Hotel) can be seen in the left background. 

As for estimating the date, some amateur sleuthing will be necessary. I am guessing it was taken in 1945 for a number of reasons, not least of all  being Robert's (b.1937) and Alan's (b.1940) ages. From the way everyone is dressed, particularly the boys' sandals, it is clearly summertime. Dad is in Australian Army uniform, though there would appear to be an absence of formal insignia thereon. Following service in the Pacific during World War 2, Dad was discharged from the Army on 14 December 1945. 

For all these reasons and also because of the way Robert and Alan are positively beaming, perhaps because their Dad has just returned safely from the War, I am going to venture a guess that this photo may have been taken on 14 December 1945, the day of Dad's discharge. Mid-Summer in Australia.

Dorothy Shiels - ca.1940

Dorothy Shiels - ca.1940

Such a lovely, sunny smile from my much loved cousin and Godmother, Dorothy Shiels nee Murrell. Dorothy was born in 1923, so I am guessing (in the absence of a recorded date) that this photo was taken some time in her late teens, around 1940. Dorothy took her Godmother role very seriously and told me on more than one occasion that she looked upon me as the child she never had. She married late in life and had no children. She had a major influence on my cultural upbringing, taking me to live theatre and  galleries from a relatively young age. Those experiences profoundly influenced my young psyche and, ultimately, my adult cultural life. I will always be grateful to Dorothy for this. I was not yet a twinkle in my father's eye, however,  when this photo was taken, some ten years prior to my birth. 

Louisa Mary Glover & Sarah Anne Murray - 1930s

L-R: Sarah Anne Murray nee Turner & Louisa Mary Glover nee Turner - 1930s

At right is my maternal grandmother, Louisa Mary (May) Glover nee Turner with her sister, Sarah Anne Murray nee Turner, who was always referred to in the family as Aunty Doll. The photo was taken in Nanny's front garden at 8 Mactier Street, Narrabeen, in Sydney. Aunty Doll died before I was born. I was very familiar with her larger than life persona, however. Her name was often raised in conversation, with an equal measure of awe and affection.

Ray Wright - 1942

Private Raymond Harry Wright

AIF Service Number NX92796
World War II: Pacific Theatre

Enlisted: 17 March 1942

Discharged: 14 December 1945

My Dad is so handsome here in his Australian Army uniform. His cheery, carefree smile betrays no indication that he is headed off to war in the Pacific, leaving a young wife at home with three small children aged 9, 5 and 2. Mum once told me that Dad felt honour bound to join up. She said that he could not allow his mates to go off and risk their lives for their country, while he sat safely at home. Like many young men of his generation, Dad never spoke about his experiences during the War. And he was not one to attend Army reunions or march on Anzac Day. After returning from the War, he seemed to want to put that entire part of his life completely behind him. On a personal note, I am very grateful he returned safely, because less than 4 years later I was born.  

Dorothy Shiels with John & Alan Wright - ca.1942

L-R: Dorothy Shiels, Alan Wright, John Wright - ca.1942

My cousin, Dorothy Shiels nee Murrell, with my brothers, L-R, Alan and John Wright. Dorothy is the daughter of my mother's sister, my Aunty Glad (Gladys Ann Murrell nee Glover). Both Aunty Glad and Dorothy played prominent roles in the lives of my three brothers and myself. They lived nearby, in the same street, and we saw much of them. Aunty Glad's husband, Uncle Eric (Eric Murrell) was somewhat reclusive. He rarely came to family functions and we saw little of him. John is my eldest brother, my parent's first-born, and Alan is the brother closest in age to me (almost 10 years older than me). Because my brothers were all so much older than me (John is old enough to be my father), I virtually grew-up as an only child and was very much doted upon by my loving parents. This photograph was taken where my family then lived, at 10 Mactier Street, Narrabeen, in Sydney.