Flora Wright, Gladys Murrell & Kerry Wright - 1950

L-R: Flora Wright and Gladys Murrell

with Kerry Wright in pram

1950

Way back in the dim and distant past of the 1950s, people dressed in their very best when visiting the city, even if it was only on a day-time shopping trip. And here's proof. This photo of my mother, Flora Wright (L), and her sister, my Aunty Glad, Gladys Murrell (R), with me in the pram, was taken in Sydney's Martin Place. The iconic northern facade of the GPO (now Westin Hotel) can be seen in the left background.

Mum and Aunty Glad would have taken the 190 double-deck Wynyard bus to "Town", from their home at Narrabeen on Sydney's Northern Beaches. They are both stylishly dressed, complete with hats and, in Aunty Glad's case, a fur stole. I am shocked to see they're not wearing gloves; though, that may be a pair of gloves Aunty Glad is holding in her left hand. Gloves were de rigueur fashion accessories for women in those days.

I seem to recall that Mum only ever visited the city a couple of times each year. One such trip was always in December, to do Christmas shopping at the glamorous department stores of David Jones, Mark Foys and Anthony Horderns. I don't remember my father ever accompanying my mother and I on such occasions. It wasn't something men did back then. The annual Christmas shopping trip also incorporated visits to each department store's resident Santa Claus, as well as viewing the stores' Christmas window decorations and all the Christmas decorations in the city. One particular year, after we'd visited several stores, I remember asking Mum why there were so many Santas. Mum explained that there was only one, but that he magically travelled very quickly ahead of us, so he could greet us as we visited each store in turn.

Flora, Robert & Kerry Wright - 1950

L-R: Robert Wright & Flora Wright

with baby Kerry Wright

1950

Not the best quality photo, somewhat out of focus, but the subject matter is pure gold. It shows my darling Mummy (Flora Wright) perching me (Kerry Wright) atop the seat of my brother Robert's bicycle. I recognize the background as our front yard at 10 Mactier Street, Narrabeen, on Sydney's Northern Beaches. I appear to be fixated on the photographer, probably Dad, whereas Mum and Robert seem to have eyes only for me. Mum and Robert are wearing light woollens, so I'm guessing this photo was probably taken some time around Autumn 1950. I experience a combination of joy and pathos when I view this image. Joy, for the love of my mother and brother, so tangibly displayed here. And pathos for the loss of them both, now passed away. An entire era ended, yet it was only such a short time ago. 

Robert & Kerry Wright - 1950

L-R: Robert Wright & Kerry Wright

1950

This humble, poorly focused family photo carries an enormous emotional impact for me. It shows my brother, Robert, cradling me in his arms. His radiant smile beams from the image, traversing the years and warming the heart. I have three older brothers, yet have little recollection of any of them showing me much in the way of affection during my childhood. It means a great deal to me, therefore, to see this beautiful photo of Robert and I together. It's heartening to have verification that I was loved and cherished by my brother. My brothers were in their teens when I was little, and I appreciate that teenage boys have much more important things on their minds than snot-nosed baby brothers. Robert was 12 when this photo was taken in the front yard of our home at 10 Mactier Street, Narrabeen, on Sydney's Northern Beaches. He left home not all that many years later, and we saw little of him following that. He moved away and distanced himself from the family. I don't know why. He died of a cerebral haemorrhage in 1982 at the early age of 45.

Ray, Robert, Alan & Kerry Wright - 1950

L-R: Alan Wright, Kerry Wright (front), Ray Wright, Robert Wright

1950

My father, Ray Wright, with his sons Robert (R), Alan (L) and me, Kerry, in the middle. My eldest brother, John, who would have then been 18, is absent. The photo was probably taken by my mother, Flora Wright, and it's likely location is the garden of our family home at 10 Mactier Street, Narrabeen, on Sydney's Northern Beaches. Even though I had three older brothers, I virtually grew-up as an only child, having no recollection of John living at home, and only fleeting memories of Robert's presence. Alan, the brother nearest in age to me, married when I was 12 but was little seen in the years leading up to his departure, being of an age when the nearby surf club and its inherent sporting and social distractions occupied much of his attention.

Gladys Murrell & Kerry Wright - 1950

L-R: Gladys Murrell & Kerry Wright

1950

My most dear and much loved Aunty Glad (my mother's older sister, Gladys Ann Murrell nee Glover) with me, Kerry Wright, in the garden of my home at 10 Mactier Street, Narrabeen, on Sydney's Northern Beaches. Aunty Glad lived not far away from us, towards the lake end of Mactier Street. Her house was more posh than ours and I loved the canopied mosquito nets Aunty Glad had draped above the beds at her place. As a child, I remember thinking how exotic and elegant they looked. In retrospect, I now realize they were an absolute necessity for lakeside living, to escape the nocturnal swarms of ravenous mosquitos terrorizing the residents. Exotic and elegant or just plain practical, I still would have loved to have had one of those nets draped above my own little bed. Even though we lived at the ocean end of Mactier Street, my bedroom was on a partially open verandah, and I copped my fair share of mozzie bites in my time. Aunty Glad lived with Uncle Eric (Eric Murrell) and their only daughter, my cousin, Dorothy (Dorothy Cynthia Shiels nee Murrell), who is my Godmother.

Louisa Mary Glover & Kerry Wright - 1950

L-R: Louisa Mary Glover & Kerry Wright

1950

My maternal grandmother, Louisa Mary (May) Glover nee Turner (1870-1960), bouncing me (Kerry Wright) on her knee. We are on my grandparents' front verandah at 8 Mactier Street, Narrabeen, on Sydney's Northern Beaches. Nanny read the Sydney Morning Herald on her verandah every morning. She passed away in 1960, aged 89. I loved her dearly and enjoyed nothing more, as a child, than joining her on her verandah and listening, enthralled, as she told me stories. She was a great story teller.

Ray & Kerry Wright - 1950

L-R: Ray Wright & Kerry Wright

1950

My father, Ray Wright, cradling me in his arms. I'm looking somewhat sooky, probably because I wasn't getting my own way at that exact moment. Being the youngest, I was spoilt and could be a little terror. My brother, Alan, gave me the nickname, "Wild Bill", which he continued to use way into our adult years, abbreviated to "Wild", even though I had, by then, ceased throwing the tantrums of my infancy. From a very early age, in fact, I soon moved away from the attention-seeking, spoilt brat stage, and came to display the delicate, sensitive, effete characteristics that would come to dominate my reticent, introspective childhood personality and ultimately progress to my gay adult self of today. This photo was taken at 10 Mactier Street, Narrabeen, on Sydney's Northern Beaches, where we lived.

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.