October is History Month in Victoria! For more information on history-themed events, visit the History Month website.
One day in mid-1981, Burwood residents Geraldine Mitchell, Mary O’Keeffe and a group of their acquaintances and friends got together to brainstorm how to best promote the businesses and activities of their home suburb, Burwood. Burwood, geographically large by Melbourne standards, straddled three quite different Council areas: Box Hill, Camberwell and Waverley. This large area was home to a diverse population of young families, immigrants, single parents and elderly, long-term residents. But there was no unifying mechanism that communicated the huge array of activities available to them.
Back in Burwood in 1981, you could attend one of the 13 churches covering the Christian faiths. Learning opportunities could be found at Burwood State College. You could enrol in “Learn to live with Computers” to work out those confounding beige boxes before they took over your life entirely. Alternatively, you could try your hand at the exotic “Florentine Embroidery”. If that didn’t spark interest, you could learn to dance in all the quintessential forms of the Eighties: jazz, Irish, ballroom, disco, rock and square. You could play an array of sports while your kids went to Scouts or Guides. There were singles nights, chatting groups, and keep fit classes to meet people and make friends. If that failed in curing your loneliness, you could always adopt a pet from the RSPCA on the corner of Middleborough Road and Burwood Highway.
But how to tell people about these great opportunities? The friends hit on the idea of a free newsletter sponsored by local businesses. It would be published each school term and called Burwood Bulletin.
The first issue appeared in November 1981. Financial assistance for the 1c per page printing costs came via a small grant from Box Hill Council and donations from local churches. Typed on a borrowed manual typewriter and photocopied (probably by hand as well), with hand-drawn artwork to add interest, more volunteers assembled to compile and staple 1,500 copies. They then distributed Burwood Bulletin to local businesses, including doctors and dental surgeries for reading.
It proved an instant success. By the next edition, Burwood Bulletin had a professional printer and a list of local sponsors and advertisers. Geraldine ran a competition to solicit designs for a logo. George Zaharias from Doncaster won with his depiction of “The Sleeping Giant” (a term that apparently reflected Burwood’s large but sedate population). More significantly, this second edition of March 1982 also included a small article asking readers for any information about local Burwood history. From that time on, every issue of Burwood Bulletin contained some snippet of local history about Burwood and its surrounds.
Today, over 40 years later, these articles create a valuable repository of information and micro-history of local people, businesses and institutions. Residents revelled in recollecting their memories and the details of their lives in Burwood and later, Ashburton.
The first article was from John McNeill, the Burwood postmaster. In “How the Mail came through in Horse and Buggy Days”, John described the 19th century distribution of mail between Burwood (or Ballyshannassy as it was known then), Hawthorn and Kew.
By November 1982, the History Pages were so popular that Liz Breit became Burwood Bulletin’s history editor. Her articles covered the history of local businesses, the Burwood Cemetery and the little Burwood and Districts Hospital (long gone). Residents responded enthusiastically and either wrote in with their recollections or the intrepid Liz visited them in their homes to interview them. Before long, the Burwood History Group formed to nut out the minutiae of local history and feed it into Burwood Bulletin.
Jean Warland takes the helm
Then in March 1983, Geraldine Mitchell moved away from Burwood. The Burwood Bulletin Committee tapped Jean Warland to take over as editor. Jean had joined as a reporter from the third issue. ‘For many years, the Bulletin stumbled from one issue to the next,’ remembered Margaret O’Keefe in 2006. ‘But somehow through Jean’s enthusiasm and her ability to gather and utilise talent, it survived.’
To her father’s chagrin but her mother’s insistence, University-educated Jean had enjoyed a successful career in advertising before World War II. But like all women, she was forced to resign after she married because Australian culture dictated women were the possessions of men and they could not work for money and be wives and mothers at the same time.
Fortunately, Jean proved the type of women quite willing to get around that setback and threw herself into volunteer work instead.
By the time she moved to Madeline Street in Burwood, Jean was an editor of the United Nations Association of Australia’s national magazine and had an MBE for Services to Children’s Welfare. She was well qualified to take over Burwood Bulletin and ran it efficiently until her sudden death in March 1993.
Devastated, the Burwood Bulletin committee dedicated the next issue to Jean Warland’s memory. The loss of their chief writer, editor and friend, combined with the huge amount of knowledge that went with her, nearly ended the magazine. ‘She was such a wonderful person,’ Sandra Holt commented years later. ‘It was a privilege working with her.’
Stories of suburban life
Fortunately, volunteers stepped up and Margaret Scammell became the new editor. Marg wanted to do things differently from Jean. ‘They were big shoes to fill,’ Margaret said years later. But in reality, ‘I didn’t want to write every issue myself.’ She wanted articles that showed varied points of view and published articles in the contributors’ own words with only editing for clarity and space.
The readership responded. One of the most popular articles came in the Dec/January 2001 issue. “Dave Sale and the Ashburton Red Bus” told the story of the red bus that used to travel from Warrigal Road to Glen Iris Station and its driver. From 1950, cheerful and easygoing Dave Sale drove generations of children down to school, their parents to the tram and then home again up High Street for 24 years. As High Street Road began to develop, the bus route extended along it. Dave’s story sparked a flurry of memories among Burwood Bulletin readers. Peter Navaretti wrote in, ‘it’s hard to believe that in those days, you could make a U-turn at the intersection of High Street and Malvern Road!’
Later that year came another joyful recollection: the day it snowed in Melbourne. It was 10 August 1951. A blizzard front had stumbled up from Antarctica to plummet Melbourne into the coldest day since 1872.
The houses of Burwood and Ashburton, cold in winter at the best of times, were freezing that morning. ‘We got out of bed and Dad said, ‘look out the back window!’ There was snow out there!’ remembered one of Burwood Bulletin’s long-time writers, Sue Webster.
It was a school day of course because a kid in 1950s Australia could never catch a break. But for Sue, the snow caused even more excitement. ‘Mr Hayes had a truck we called the ‘lolly truck’ because he used it to deliver lollies to milkbars and schools,’ continued Sue. ‘As we were walking down Dunscombe Avenue in the snow, Mr Hayes called out, “You’d better get in the back of the truck,” because it was so cold. Inside the truck there were shelves around the three sides covered in boxes of lollies. Lifesavers, Snakes, Mint Leaves, Jelly Babies, Freckles, Buddies. We’d never had snow falling before and now we were going to school in the lolly truck! It was the highlight of my childhood.’
And she didn't even confess to eating any of the lollies! It really was a different time then.
Across Melbourne, the kids were allowed to play in the snow after school assembly. For Glenys McLeod of Box Hill this should have added to her excitement because it was also her birthday. She had been looking forward to the class singing her “Happy Birthday” for weeks. But the snow meant everyone forgot all about her birthday and she went home crushed with disappointment.
By the next day, the snow had melted and it hasn’t snowed like that in Melbourne since. And probably never will again. But how wonderful it is to have these little personal recollections recorded for posterity.
Marg retired as editor in 1998. The new editor, Carrie Simmons moved Burwood Bulletin towards a profile-based format. Most of the short articles covered the lives of local shopkeepers and service providers. One proved quite a coup.
The Profile Era: Lindsay Thompson and the school kidnappings
The Burwood Bulletin tended to steer clear of stories about the more nefarious happenings in the neighbourhood. No mention was ever made of Burwood being the location for one of Melbourne’s most shocking murder events in 1991. But one contributor managed to pull off an interview with the Hon Lindsay Thompson, the former Victorian Premier. Thompson, who lived in Glen Iris and died in 2008, was mostly known for being the longest serving member of the Victorian Parliament. But he also played a small but crucial role in the famous Faraday Kidnapping of 1972.
‘It was Grand Final Eve, 1972,’ Thompson began in the article. He received a call from the Assistant Police Commissioner. ‘He told me two men stormed a small school in Faraday (near Castlemaine) and took the young teacher and six of her pupils hostage, demanding a $1 million ransom.’
What did this have to do with Mr Thompson? Well, he was Education Minister at the time. Obviously the Police emphasised the 'school' part in “kidnapping and hostage situation with a ransom demand in a school” in 1972.
‘At first I thought it was a crank call,’ Thompson continued. ‘I used to get lots of strange calls back then.’ The arrival of two police officers on his doorstep confirmed the situation. It seemed somehow he had become the “money-man” to the kidnappers.
They had specifically named him in the ransom note to undertake the drop.
The article is shady on how he managed to get a case full of cash so quickly (and where exactly that came from) but hey, it was the 70s. Lets go with that.
Thompson remembered the police suggesting he undertake the 5 am drop. The police briefed him in case the kidnappers decided to take him with the case. ‘They told me that should they grab me, I should do a bit of a back flip in mid-air’ as a way to give the police a clear shot. ‘This was not the sort of exercise I practice every morning before breakfast,’ he said drily.
But despite following the kidnappers’ instructions to the letter, no-one ever came to meet him for the case. The teacher and children escaped on their own and it turned out the kidnappers had conceived the whole idea after watching Dirty Harry.
‘I thought this the most extraordinary, unbelievable event’, Thompson concluded. ‘That probably would not occur for another hundred years.’ But four years later, it did. One of the kidnappers from the Faraday case, Edwin Eastwood escaped prison and kidnapped 16 hostages from Wooreen school in Gippsland. Eastwood remembered Thompson as the contact man for ransom. But this time, no-one was going to pay. The hostage situation ended with Eastwood wounded and recaptured. ‘One of the children, a 9 year-old-girl named Brett Fisher, said to me, “Thank you, but if we’re kidnapped again you will come and get us, won’t you?” I never forgot those words. They put a charmingly optimistic and innocent cast on a nightmare situation.’
Burwood Bulletin grows bigger and wider
With its mix of articles, local advertisements, history pieces, and distinctive red and black cover, Burwood Bulletin grew thicker; the September 2004 issue clocked in at a whopping 64 pages. It soon settled down to around 48 pages. ‘The magazine has taken on such a professional look that many are surprised that it is produced by volunteers,’ wrote Carrie proudly in 2006 for the 100th issue. Carrie also oversaw the transition of Burwood Bulletin to full colour from the Spring 2008 issue.
Burwood Bulletin continued to publish snippets of local history submitted by contributors but by the 21st century, the magazine itself was becoming a historical source on Burwood and its surrounds. For its 130th issue in 2013, editor Chris Gray wrote that Framed & Hung (now Shot, Framed & Hung), Burwood Fuel & Fodder and Burwood Highway Mower Sales and Services had advertised in every single edition since the magazine began in 1981. He speculated it must be some kind of record.
These stalwarts of Burwood Village remained unchanged as other advertisements reflected the shift in Burwood Village from provision stores to service providers, including for the elderly. In the Community Notices, “Learning to Live with Computers” had given way to “Computer Savvy Seniors” where you could now learn how to use the Internet and email. Far more advertisements for mental health support appeared; from Parkinson’s support groups to Al-Anon. These were nowhere in sight during the 1980s.
Burwood Bulletin took on a renewed level of significance to the community after the demise of the Leader Group of newspapers in 2017. With no local newspaper to speak of anymore, Burwood Bulletin is now the only custodian of local news stories and history. Its reach has expanded so far beyond Burwood it's now called The Bulletin. Every quarter, 5,000 copies are distributed throughout the cities of Whitehorse, Box Hill and Boroondara.
If Facebook Community Groups tell you all about the cars being stolen in the neighbourhood and give you a recommendation for a good cleaner, it’s The Bulletin where you find out about the accomplishments of local musicians, the success of community fetes, the efforts of community environmental groups and still, at its core, the rich local history of the area.
In this History Month, pick up a copy of The Bulletin, look through its website, maybe write an article yourself or take out an advertisement for your business. Help support this vital community publication for the next 44 years.
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