Hidden Hamilton

'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 i...

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 ...

To discover and tell stories about Hidden Hamilton , people need to know what I am looking for. What better opportunity to reach people than...

Wrestling with the unwieldy pipes, the busy scaffolder took little notice of the small sculpture above the doorway, the head of a bearded ma...

Ten stark, simple words, in an email sent to me by Hunter historian, Fr Brian Roach.  Ten words, carrying the story of a terrible death, a f...

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, wh...

If you think Hamilton has more than its share of pubs today, it is nothing compared to the late 1800s.   Denison Street (or Winship Street, ...

At one time or another, most of us have criticised  our city council.   Yet the story of Hamilton shows vividly how the origins of local cou...

'There are mine shafts under the whole of Newcastle', our north coast solicitor told us. We were meeting to begin the paper work for...

Webster Street yielded up one of its secrets to me after I stumbled across some photographs of Pearce’s Bakery on the Facebook site Lost Ne...