“Early Days”
I got my first set of wheels at about age 9.
My clan of Hawkins’ consisted of dad (Jim), mum (Annie Doreen), big sister (Joan), lil’ Jim (as the aunties referred to me) and younger brother Richard).
The family was located at 114 Park Street, South Melbourne. It was a small, single fronted terrace house, typical of that of the area. Walk about 8 houses East and you’d be standing on the corner of what’s now called Kings Way. (In my day there it was known as “Hanna Street”). Walk about a km. in that direction & you’d be in the gardens surrounding the “Shrine of Remembrance”. (About 8 houses to the west of mine was the home of the Bennion family. (The younger of their two daughters was a cutie called “Pam”. (That’s a story for another time).
My (& Pam’s) primary school was known as “Eastern Rd. State School”. I didn’t need any wheels as it was merely a single block away - easy walk.
As a typical kid in a poor family – even then it was obvious that I needed to be planning ways of earning a living. My dad decided that my upcoming xmas present would be a bicycle. He managed to pick up an old 2nd hand one from somewhere and for some weeks, every night after dinner had been cleared – he’d have the bike, upside down on the kitchen sink fitting new pedals, bearings for the front & rear wheels, new brakes (he took the old handlebars down to a local outfit and had them re chrome plated) and the other bits needed to make it strong, safe and reliable.
Not only could I ride to school in future, I could get around the suburb easily and quite quickly. One day I pedalled (about a km) west up Park St. to “Clarendon” St. Just a door away from that corner was the local newsagency run by a man known as “Mr. Short”. Maybe he saw the twinkle in my eye as in no time flat he agreed to give me (& my bike) a job delivering newspapers around the suburb, each weekday morning, before school.
I was probably about 9 y.o. from memory – but it was fun to receive my first pay. That was the start of a career that happily, still continues to this day – (over 65 years later).
Things went very well once I had my own wheels. I was hungry for more. A year or so later Mr. Short offered me more work. He said that after school – I could also sell newspapers to the public.
I had various spots to do that from time to time. The one I remembered most was at the corner of St Kilda Rd & Park St. On one side of the corner was a well known hotel – “The Domain”. I recall it being later owned by the famous Graham Kennedy. On the other side was “Sleights Funeral Parlour”. (Years later that became one of the first major high rise accommodation buildings in St Kilda Road and its now known as “The Domain Apartments).
There was (and still is) a major tram line that ran from Melb. city, right along St Kilda Rd. to St Kilda junction (& even further). Anyway my opportunity was to sell papers to all & sundry at that tram spot.
Typically, as a tram approached, slowing down, I’d jump on grabbing the handrail as it was still moving. That spot was a key intersection with traffic lights. I’d start at one end of the tram, sell as many papers as I could ). I’d yell out “Herald a paper Herald” !!! I’d try to get to every person that put their hand up. Often I’d still be selling as the tram started to move off – then I’d head for the nearest door – pronto. I became quite well practised at timing my exit from the “running board” to hit the ground running.
That went fine for quite some months. Then whammo – one afternoon I had too many hands up to handle - suddenly realising I had to race to the door. Unfortunately some guy, right near that door spread his legs out across the doorway. I tripped straight over them out into a free fall.
My main recollection was being flat out on the ground with people around me and my left leg was rising & falling in a hole in the bitumen. Problem was there was no hole – it was just my fractured left femur transmitting that sensation into my brain. Can’t then remember too much until a while later I woke up in Prince Henry hospital. (That was towards the city, further up St Kilda Rd.)
In those days, the treatment for a fractured femur was to have your leg (encased in plaster) hooked up in the air on a sling. I spent 3 months in that hospital bed before eventually being allowed home. My stay in Prince Henry’s co-incided with the 1954-55 English Cricket team tour of Australia. During that stay - I’ll never forget being presented with a brand new cricket bat by their vice-captain Denis Compton, autographed by every member of their tour team, as part of the public relations aspect of the tour. Ironically I ended up in a large photo with Denis on the front page of the next morning’s “Melbourne Sun”.
I’m starting to realise now that there are many potential episodes after this. I can’t imagine it being a best seller – so I’ll leave chapter two until some future day …. Jim
