A discovery place - Hamilton Public School

My first impression was of some kind of a discovery garden - but it is a public primary school. Buildings are plain and functional and there is plenty of paving, but what catches my eye are the creative touches everywhere. A huge funky chair balances high above the entrance gate in Samdon Street, and colourful hand painted signposts are immediately helpful to the visitor.

Northern Star Hotel

‘This must be the best position in Hamilton,’ Des Ramplin observed to his wife Marie, as they were discussing the prospect of buying the 110 year old Northern Star Hotel, in Hamilton.

It was 1986; interest rates were affordable and the Ramplins were ready to take on another challenge.

St Peter's Anglican Church, Hamilton

Hundreds of children were on the march, a more-or-less orderly line snaking its way from St Peter’s Anglican Church to Hamilton Station. At the front, two children held a wavering church banner aloft. They were off to the annual Sunday School picnic at Speers Point, the highlight of the year.

First, they would catch the train to Cockle Creek, then a steam tram to Speers Point. The event would have been an exciting adventure for children whose families did not own cars, and who walked everywhere within their suburb, Hamilton.

The Roxy Theatre

When I first heard Colin Chapman’s name spoken, it was in reverential tones. ‘Of course, you know of Colin Chapman.’ I didn’t, then – but now I understand the reason for the revered expression.

Most of us are fortunate if we know one person like Colin Chapman in our lifetime.

Colin Chapman was a singer, teacher, conductor, producer, director, actor and playwright. A leader and a visionary, he was able to gather round him others who shared his vision and were prepared to personally volunteer their skills, effort and time to achieving it.

Knowing the Gow family of Fettercairn, Hamilton

There was no celebratory clinking of glasses of Scotch whisky when Fanny Gow, aged 42, gave birth to a boy in 1886, after 10 girls in succession. Temperance was the watchword of this prominent Hamilton family. Ramsay Gow, Fanny’s husband, was a foundation member of the Sons of Temperance, a member-only organization devoted to a life of abstinence from alcohol. Fanny herself was a great worker for the temperance cause, though her father was a publican.

Saving an AA Company house in Hamilton

It continued to await its future, concealed in a battle axe block behind 195 Denison Street. This compact nineteenth century residence was once the home of two AA Company Overmen and a Viewer (manager) of collieries.

In 1994, a chance discovery by a young postgraduate student cycling over Cameron’s Hill along Denison Street was to bring hope to this historic house. Vacant since 1963 and the passing of owner Charles Little, it was becoming increasingly derelict.

The American's wife

It was a house everyone admired – an elegant, two story residence at the west end of Hamilton – belonging to the Americans. A medical doctor, Silas Rand, and his brother Thomas Rand, a dentist, had their practices there, and their homes. They’d grown up in Minnesota. Their house had once been a Turkish bath house. Visitors reported pipe works still visible on interior walls.

The Kent

Acrobatic dogs balanced on two front legs on impossibly slim posts, somersaulted, danced and waved goodbye. Responding to the skilful hands of trainer Mr Bill Massey, the small dogs enthralled kids and adults alike. [1]

From sandy track to Eat Street - the becoming of Beaumont Street

It’s the cosmopolitan Eat Street of Newcastle – and so much more. Say ‘Beaumont Street’ and ‘multicultural eats’ springs to mind – not just the first comers the Italians and Greeks, but nowadays  Indian, Vietnamese, Thai, Japanese, Chinese, Korean, Himalayan, Mexican, Turkish, Lebanese and Fijian. 

The old Hamilton flour mill

The towering silos of the Hamilton Flour Mill had stood as Hamilton’s most prominent landmark for over 90 years in Hudson Street, Hamilton.

Just one month short of his 90^th birthday, Charles McIntyre, the oldest mill owner in Australia, died. His life had been devoted to the Mill, and he had never married. Thus ended a lineage of four generations of millers extending over 170 years. [1] These are remarkable records.

The story of Donald's Corner

When you were growing up in Hamilton’, I asked memoir writer Margaret Colditz ‘where was the money?’ 

‘The money’, she responded without a second’s pause, ‘was in Donald’s Corner’.

A Mine Manager's retreat - the AA Company house

Status is having a house on the crest of a hill, fireplaces in every room, and your own underground water tank  so you don’t have to queue to draw water with the wives of miners.

Status can also mean responsibility - lying awake, desperate for sleep, dreading the first light. Imagine that your boss, Superintendent of the AA Company, [1] has commissioned you to bring in ‘scab labour’ from Victoria and South Australia, and to destroy the coal miners union, once and for all.

The making of Hamilton

There was not a decent street or footpath in Hamilton; they had creeks and watercourses in every direction.[1]

Truly, the place looked deserted and miserable, no one to be seen but poor old Murphy and his double team dragging a barrow load of coal through the yielding sands into which the wheels of his dray....were sinking almost to the axle.[2] 

These were just some of the challenges facing Hamilton’s first Municipal Council in 1872.

Masonic Hall

The queue surged with a life of its own along Beaumont Street. An excited buzz rose from the young crowd, dressed to dazzle in their up-to-the-minute gear.

I was on an evening walk with my husband, not long after we had moved to Hamilton, when we encountered what we thought was a nightclub with a line of people waiting to enter. A little surprised that our new suburb apparently had a nightclub, we crossed the street. Looking back, we saw that the building creating so much anticipation was the Masonic Hall, alias The Depot.

Greater stories to be told

'I rushed out the front door - everyone was coming out of their homes. I looked towards Beaumont Street from our elevated front driveway. I could see the Greater tower – it was leaning to the left side, not vertical, it appeared to be wavering, and I thought, This is not good!'

Survival of a stately home

It means 'a pile of rough stones'. One of Hamilton’s rare surviving late Victorian homes, Fettercairn is truly a survivor. Over the past 110 years, it has reinvented itself time and time again. Built in 1903 for Mr and Mrs Ramsay Gow, the imposing two storey, 50 square house was an unambiguous statement by its owners of achievement and prosperity.

'Blow it up over my dead body!'

'A couple of days after the earthquake, I was at home in the parsonage in Beaumont Street when there was a knock on the door. I opened it to a policeman, who told me – the Army is about to blow up the church. They want you there!' 

That was John Mason, Minister of the Hamilton Wesley Church  1985 - 1992.

Wesleyans of Pit Town

Pressing his nose against the glass as I hold him up to our high front window, my three year old grandson stares transfixed at the floodlit church tower. Springing from the darkness, it’s so close we can almost touch it, this cake decorator’s fantasy of lacy outlines, turrets and slim arches.

Whose head is it, really?

Wrestling with the unwieldy pipes, the busy scaffolder took little notice of the small sculpture above the doorway, the head of a bearded man. An earthquake measuring 5.6 on the Richter scale had devastated Newcastle on 28 December, 1989, and he was flat out assembling protective structures around buildings all over the city. In the scheme of things, what did a bit more damage to an old plaster head matter?

Tale of two buildings

At the end of last week’s post, I reflected on the lost hotels of Denison Street, and asked the question – why do some buildings endure, while others crumble or face demolition? I found at least part of the answer in two local buildings.[1]