Unlocking the Past 2020

The Kurri Kurri Mandolin Orchestra first came to public notice in May 1924 when it won first prize in the Mandolin Quartette section of the Kurri Kurri Eisteddfod. Who would have thought there were so many local mandolin players that there’d be a section of the eisteddfod dedicated to them?

The Orchestra didn’t waste any time following up on their success.

On 3 September 1924 the Orchestra, conducted by Russian violinist Jascha Gopinko, performed to great acclaim at the Lyceum Hall, Also on the bill was Sydney’s foremost soprano Miss Millie Hughes. Every performer received ‘a rapturous encore’ with this musical night described by local newspaper the Cessnock Eagle as ‘one of the most meritorious concerts ever given in Cessnock’. It was clear that the Orchestra had arrived.

They were back the following June for another concert with a soprano, a tenor, a violinist and to give the evening some levity – a comedian. No expense seems to have been spared to bring the artists in, with the concert described as possibly the most expensive ever put on in Cessnock. By this time the Orchestra had grown to 40, with its members playing the mandolin, banjo, cello, violin, double bass and piano.

The Kurri Kurri Mandolin Orchestra was formed by talented violinist Jascha Gopinko, a Russian immigrant and now Kurri Kurri resident, who had arrived in the town in 1918 to work in the coal mines. His beautiful violin playing so inspired his fellow miners that when he created the Kurri Kurri Mandolin Orchestra it was composed mainly of his colliery work mates.

Jascha’s passionate love of music, huge talent and commitment to teaching had a profound effect on his new home town. His musical legacy went on to stretch across the entire Cessnock Local Government Area.

Jascha publicly stated, over and over, that the talent in regional towns was equivalent to that in the big cities and we should aim high and be proud of our musical achievements. One of his famous students, violinist Ernest Llewellyn, claimed that Jascha’s skill as a teacher was equal to the greatest teachers of stringed instruments anywhere in the world.

In June 1927 a new conductor took the helm, W.H. Ward, putting his individual stamp on the Orchestra. Its last publicised performance was in September 1929, when in a lovely gesture they visited Kurri Kurri Hospital and played a free concert for the patients.  

It’s back to school month and the new influx of young people to high school for the first time could find some classrooms full, or even overflowing. That was certainly the case in February 1937 when the crowded conditions at Cessnock High School were so bad that Cessnock Council stepped in.

Council complained to the NSW Minister for Education, David Drummond, about the drastic lack of space for new students arriving at the school. Cessnock Mayor Sam Horne and Alderman John Brown went to Sydney to meet with the Minister and further Council deputations followed to the Minister for Works and Local Government.

In 1937 Cessnock High School was the largest high school in NSW and possibly the largest in Australia. While a new high school building was under construction an alarmed Parents & Citizens Association and Council could already see, before it was finished, that it was too small. The political pressure worked and the Minister agreed to visit Cessnock High School on 6 March.

A deputation was ready with its list of demands: daily milk rations for all students, the construction of a school railway siding by the South Maitland Railways allowing direct access to the school, the playground cleared of scrub and a gymnasium and tuck shop built.

The nearness of scrub to classrooms was demonstrated clearly during David Drummond’s tour of the school. The official party came across a five foot black snake coiled in one of the school rooms, Alderman Cecil Smyth quickly seized a block of wood and killed the unfortunate reptile, but not before it startled the official visitor.

The Minister was given gifts made by pupils: a wooden inlaid tray by three woodwork students which was lined with an embroidered cloth made by Hazel Salton. The Minister was touched saying he would ‘treasure’ the gifts as they were made by the students themselves.

The visit was deemed a success: a bigger school building was constructed, a tuck shop and gym were built, but the railways baulked at providing a school siding, the provision of daily milk did go ahead – possibly creating queasy memories for many students and putting others off milk for life.

At Cessnock Library we remember Minister Drummond with gratitude. Widely read and known for his love of literature he carried through the Library Act (1939) which established the State system of free public libraries. 

The Hunter Valley has always musically punched above its weight. Is it part of the rich cultural legacy of the Welsh people who made our region home a century ago?

One of the most noticeable parts of that heritage is the extraordinary Abermain Eisteddfod, one of the longest running in NSW. One hundred years ago the Cessnock Local Government Area had multiple eisteddfods, including at Cessnock, Kurri Kurri and Weston.

Much talent was unearthed at these competitions and it also allowed some inspirational teachers to shine. One such teacher was Jayne Thompson who took a local children’s choir to extraordinary levels of success in the 1920s.

The Weston Juvenile Choir first performed in February 1921 at the Weston Eisteddfod. They already had their eye on greater things and after a successful fundraiser later that year set off to compete in eisteddfods in Newcastle and Boolooroo.

While the choir at that stage wasn’t very successful in competitions, they certainly were enthusiastic, performing at local charity and community events, at hospitals and benefits, often with the adult Weston Town Band. But in November 1926 all that changed, when Jayne Thompson took over as the choir’s conductor.

She had been a seasoned eisteddfod competitor herself, achieving an extraordinary level of success in singing, piano and elocution and winning hundreds of awards. She performed at Weston Music and Literary Society events and was renowned for her beautiful choral singing at the Weston Methodist Church.

Under Jayne’s baton the Weston Juvenile Choir soon became a force to be reckoned with, regularly winning the juvenile choir category at eisteddfod’s across the Hunter Valley, in Newcastle and in 1928 going head-to-head with a Sydney choir for the Juvenile Chorus Championship of NSW.

When the Choir performed at the Cessnock Eisteddfod that year, the musical adjudicator, from the Conservatorium of Music in Sydney, declared that the choir’s singing was amongst the best he had ever heard. He promptly awarded them first place, adding to their growing hoard of awards. 

A couple of years later Jayne Thompson had taken the choir to State success, winning the NSW State Championship for juvenile choirs. For the children the juvenile choir had a strong social aspect, by 1930 their annual end-of-year picnic to Wangi Wangi was so popular three buses had to be hired to take them all on this social outing.

Jayne also worked skilfully with adult singers, becoming the first conductor of the Weston Choral Society when it formed in 1928. A musical tour-de-force, Jayne Thompson is a Weston heroine forgotten no more. 

Travelling south from Wollombi down the Great North Road is a particularly pretty stretch of road. A lovely building along this thoroughfare was one of our oldest churches, the pretty St. Mark’s Church of England at Laguna. Still in exquisite state, it even has its original bell tower intact at the side of the church.

St. Mark’s was hand built from local raw material. The wood for the church came from George Brown’s timber mill in Cessnock and the church’s sandstone piers were quarried only 91 metres away. The builder was Thomas Woodbury. St. Mark’s was consecrated in November 1884 by the Bishop of Newcastle.

In the late 19^th century the church was a key part of the community, particularly in a rural area. Attending church on Sunday wasn’t just about connecting with God, it was a significant social event. People met up with their far-flung neighbours, young people flirted (and in doing so found potential husbands or wives) and children played with the off-spring of other members of the congregation.

Nine years after the church was opened a new Reverend was appointed to the Wollombi church circuit, which included St. Mark’s at Laguna. He was Charles Frederick Withey, in his early 40s, who moved to the district with his wife Isabel and their two young sons, Alfred and Hubert. In his first year at St. Mark’s a daughter, Thelma, would be born. He was to stay in the valley for 14 years, leaving in 1907. 

Ministers travelled around their pastoral circuit by horse, or if they were more prosperous, by horse and sulky. Parishioners came the same way, with the less well off, but nonetheless devout, walking long distances to the weekly church services.

Withey was a man of his times, he followed the cricket and was an enthusiastic supporter of the church’s Missionary Society and the British Empire. But he wasn’t a hellfire and brimstone preacher. Parishioners remembered his gentleness and when he left St. Mark’s his departure was deeply regretted.

When Charles Withey died in 1924 he had been an ordained Minister for 50 years. There was an outpouring of grief at his death for the Reverend with a ‘kindly disposition and genial temperament [which] made him many life-long friends among all classes of the community by whom he was held in the highest esteem and regard.’

The church was deconsecrated in July 2019 and is currently available for sale.

For movie lovers one of the hardest things about the current social restrictions has been the closing of cinemas. Watching films at home just doesn’t cut it. The mystique of the big screen, where you suspend disbelief and disappear into another world for a magical couple of hours, is incomparable.

The Hunter Valley was once home to many cinemas and at 26 Vincent sat one of the largest, the mighty New Empire Cinema Theatre. Its site was enormous stretching from Vincent Street all the way through to Cumberland Street, a colossus of a building. The stalls sat 991 people and the dress circle 300, a whopping total of 1,291 patrons could fill the venue.

It was also an unusual site. Because it was built on the steep slope of a hill, after entering the theatre from Vincent Street patrons were faced with a long uphill climb to their seats.

A lovely description of its interior from the Newcastle Sun enthused: ‘The sides of the ceiling are of Wunderlich metal, beautifully tinted and dotted with electric lights…. An item that will be appreciated, particularly by children, is the installation of a water fountain.’

This enormous new picture palace, an impressive addition to Cessnock’s cultural life, opened in December 1923. It showed movies four nights per week and also operated as a theatre, with its spacious stage and impressive piano attracting travelling theatre companies. The Empire’s first owners were John, Harry and Don Smythe.

Culturally it was the roaring twenties; times were socially optimistic and economically prosperous. The horrors of WWI and the influenza pandemic were over and the unforeseen terror of the Great Depression was still years away.

In 1939 The Empire was beautifully renovated in Art Deco style. Business continued to boom and by 1950 it was screening films seven nights a week. Amazingly the Empire survived the initial onslaught of television; up until 1969 it was still showing movies six night a week and had two Saturday matinees. Sadly its fortunes changed dramatically soon after and with dwindling attendances it limped on for the next couple of years, finally closing in 1972.

The Newcastle Morning Herald reported: ‘An era ended on Saturday when the last picture theatre on the coalfields, Cessnock’s Empire, closed. Patronage had fallen away. The theatre had become uneconomical and had to be shut.  It was the last of five theatres run in the area by Greater Union…’

The following year the Empire was sold. It remained closed, disused and deteriorating until 1981 when it was finally demolished.  

With the State government easing coronavirus restrictions for weddings, are you, or someone you know, now planning a special day? There’s a historical precedent for brides planning a wedding after a pandemic and that was exactly 100 years ago.

In the 1920s Australia was emerging from the devastating social impact of the influenza pandemic and the political horrors of World War I. The economic collapse of the Great Depression was still a long way off and for this reason the early 1920s was a time of public optimism.

Formerly restrictive social customs were dissolving, women’s’ lives were become less constrained and life generally felt more open and not ruled by iron-clad tradition. The cultural repercussions of this opening up were felt at every level, including in fashion, right down to the design of bridal dresses which reflected a modern look.

Calf length bridal dress appeared for the first time, mirroring the new skirt lengths now being worn. With these dresses higher hemlines, t-strap or Mary Jane shoes became popular as they could be shown off along with white stockings.

Cessnock locals were no slouches in the fashion stakes, as these beautiful wedding images of Mona Hall and Clive Slack show. In January 1926 Mona and Clive married at the Bellbird Church of England. Mona was an accomplished singer, well-known throughout the Hunter area, where she regularly performed during the 1920s.

Local photographic business, Parker Studios in Vincent Street, took these beautifully lit and composed images which wouldn’t have looked out of place in a contemporary style magazine.

Mona looked exquisite. Her ornamental headpiece was the height of fashion; a lace mobcap, held in place with beading and pulled down low over her forehead in the popular style a cloche hat. Mona’s fine, romantic veil is delicate and dreamily draped.

Large wedding bouquets were all the rage with orchids, gardenias and lilies popular and trailing ivy completing the elegant look. Mona’s flowers were right on trend! After their wedding Mona and Clive lived at Wollombi, Bellbird and later at Toronto, having a long marriage of over 60 years. 

Soccer historians believe that junior soccer in Neath was first played in 1910. The town had many outstanding teams, so much so there was always a demand for a Neath senior team, so that that these talented juniors could continue to play.

In 1913 Neath entered the second grade Newcastle soccer competition and by 1922 Neath soccer players had entered the Gardiner Cup, the Coalfields Senior Grade and other Newcastle competitions. They were on their way.

Great jubilation broke out in 1923 when Neath was admitted to the top grade of Newcastle soccer, in the competition run by the South Maitland British Football Association. Formed in 1884, the S.M.B.F.A. was the governing body of soccer in NSW. It reflected the keen interest in the ‘round ball game’ in the Hunter Valley which was brought to our region by Welsh, English and Scottish miners.

The first local soccer games were played in Greta in 1887. Many soccer commentators see the game’s golden age in the Hunter as the 1920s - it certainly was Neath’s. Regular games were played on the Neath Football Ground and at the conclusion afternoon tea was served, sometimes accompanied by a musical performance. Sport, tea and a concert, what great free weekend entertainment!

In a lovely show of bipartisan support, other Hunter towns: Kurri Kurri, West, Cessnock, West Wallsend, Wallsend and Adamstown supported Neath’s entry into the competitive top level of the Newcastle soccer competition. Neath’s place in the senior grade competition was short lived though, by 1926 it was over. Not so the junior teams which went from strength to strength.

In 1920 the under 14 years of age Neath team won their age competition. The town was jubilant. A mid-week celebration was held in the Neath School of Arts Hall and a silver cup and gold medals were presented to the team. Mr. S. J. Eades, Head Master at Neath Public School, hosted the event, it seemed apt as all the boys were  pupils at the local school.

It capped a winning streak for the Neath team, who had been regularly getting to the finals and semi-finals on previous occasions. As well as a sumptuous spread of food, described as a ‘banquet’, the evening’s entertainment included music and dancing which went on until midnight. It wasn’t to be the end of their success. In 1922 they did it again, winning the under 14 years of age competition and the following year the team were semi-finalists. Go Neath! 

Local theatres were once the heart of the communities they served. In 1927 Paxton got its first theatre, which opened in March that year. The building had a brick front and side walls made of stud and weatherboard. It boasted dressing rooms, a gallery area and a seating capacity of 1,000, extraordinarily large for the size of Paxton’s population.

The theatre showed silent film features, newsreels and shorts. It was also an all-round local entertainment venue hosting live concerts, community singing and even boxing matches. The site for union meetings, the Miners Federation and local miner’s lodges met at the theatre over many decades. When the new craze for talking movies hit, a sound screen was installed in July 1931, so that the Paxton picture patrons would not be left behind.

To address fire concerns, an ever present threat in early theatres, a second exit out of the cinema was built. The Fire Commissioners also deemed that there be fire buckets in the theatre and they were to be kept full of water during performances.

As well as a much-loved cinema, it had a wild side as well. From the late 1930s local Paxton youths were involved in regular disturbances outside and inside the cinema. The police were often called as the Manager, James Lowe, lost control of the patrons. Charges of indecent language, assault and indecent behaviour were common.

By 1942 legendary Cessnock police officer Billy Booth complained that the police were continually being sent to Paxton Theatre because of ‘disturbances by youth’ and that the venue itself had become problematic. It wasn’t all bad; the heart of the Paxton community was on display too. When the Millfield cyclone hit in 1944 the Paxton Theatre became the central venue for local fundraising efforts to help the residents impacted by the storm.

The theatre continued for decades as a hub of the community, but in 1956 a new external threat to its future emerged – television. Despite its arrival the Paxton Theatre was still screening movies twice a week into early 1958, but by October the writing was on the wall and the cinema closed permanently. It sat empty for years and was formally de-licensed in June 1962. Sadly derelict for over a decade it was demolished in 1973. 

It’s hard to imagine now that a Scottish vaudeville star with an average voice and a cheesy comedy act which caricatured Scots culture, could become a world-wide entertainment sensation. But from 1900 to the mid-20^th that’s just what Harry Lauder did.

By 1911 he was the highest-paid performer in the world and counted no less than Winston Churchill as one of his fans, the powerful politician describing him as “Scotland’s greatest ever ambassador…who rendered measureless service…to the British Empire.” The following year he headlined the first Royal Command Performance and gave a private performance to King Edward VII at Sandringham. 

In 1914 Harry Lauder toured Australia as part of a world circuit which included performing in the USA, New Zealand and Canada. Wherever he arrived he received a rapturous welcome from his legion of fans and in the Hunter Valley it was no different.

Harry had a deep connection with Kurri Kurri as two of his brothers, John and Matt, had migrated to Australia and were coal miners in the town. On 1 April he made a triumphant arrival, disembarking from the train to find about 3,000 people crowding the platform and spilling out into the surrounding streets all were hoping to catch a glimpse of Harry.

In the evening the Chamber of Commerce hosted a grand reception for 350 people at the Chelmsford Hotel. He spoke to the crowd in English and Scots Gaelic and some replied back in Welsh, reflecting the heritage of the early coal miners and Kurri Kurri residents. The evening finished with Harry regaling the crowd with songs including ‘Auld Scotland, I Adore Ye’ and ‘My Highland Home’.

Despite Harry’s enormous wealth, grand estate and adoring fans he didn’t have an easy ride to the top of the entertainment field. Born in 1870 his once prosperous family fell on difficult times and young Harry worked in a flax mill and as a coal miner. Starting his musical career at 13 years old he sang at variety concerts and in music halls, often performing to local miners who encouraged him. By his early 20s he was successful enough to leave coal mining and become a full-time entertainer.

Harry Lauder made many more trips to Australia, the last being in 1929. He declared “…every time I return to Australia I am filled with genuine enthusiasm….it is one of the very greatest countries in the world.”

In 1940 what should have been a routine World War II air flight instead ended up as a dramatic crash near Loxford. The evening of 10 January had begun routinely enough, when a RAAF Avro Anson bomber left Canberra to fly to Richmond RAAF base. On board were three servicemen: 21 y.o. Leading Aircraftman Walter Feekings, 25 y.o. Pilot Officer Frederick Robilliard and a more experienced pilot, 34 y.o. Flight Lieutenant Sturt de Burg Griffith.

As the flight continued conditions deteriorate. A thick fog rolled in and visibility rapidly declined, so much so that the plane lost its bearings around Sydney and kept heading north. The crew became confused and could not ascertain their location.

Circling for hours, the pilot attempted in vain to find a navigation point, keeping in contact with the Richmond base. At 11.00pm contact was lost, they were on their own with fuel supplies running dangerously low. The situation was perilous; a crash inevitable.

To ensure the safety of his crew Griffith ordered them to bail out and after they had parachuted he continued to search for somewhere to land. But zero visibility was against him, so his strategy became to deliberately stall the plane, allowing it to glide for a while, giving him time to jump out safely.

Despite his flying experience Griffith had never done a parachute jump of any kind before and his first one was to be into black darkness, not knowing where he was going to land. Despite this he was cool and philosophical, later saying “I knew I had to go and that was all there was to it”.

A few minutes later, at 11.50pm, the plane smashed into the ground landing in Mr. J. Nicholls’ paddock at Deep Creek, near the Soldiers Settlement at Kurri Kurri (now Loxford). It split into pieces, the engines torn from the machine, the wings smashed and debris was scattered over a large area.

In Kurri Kurri residents had reported to the police the sound of a plane engine cutting out, a flash of light “like a shooting star” and then a terrific crash. Quickly a search party set off and following the pungent smell of fuel they located the plane about 1.00am. But where were the crew? They were all alive, but in the course of their jump they had landed kilometres from each other.

Walter Feekings had landed in a tree at Buchanan and was able to climb down. He headed to nearby houses, knocking on doors and asking for help. It was nearly 2.00am and his incredible tale was met by disbelief with locals closing their doors in his face. He said later “they thought I was a practical joker”.

Feekings could see the lights of an unknown township – it was Kurri Kurri – in the distance and he kept walking toward it. On the way he met a late night farmer on a horse who gave him a ride into town where he alerted authorities.

Frederick Robilliard landed safely on the ground near Rutherford Army Camp and was able to walk into the camp uninjured. When Sturt Griffith came down later he struck a tree and became entangled by his parachute, suffering a black eye and a scratched face. He was able to disentangle himself and also headed to Rutherford Camp.

Remnants of the plane quickly became sought after local souvenirs despite the military guard which was quickly put around it. All three crew men went on to have successful flying careers, surviving WWII and living long civilian lives.

There’s something particularly poignant about tough times at Christmas. The end of this year is seeing higher unemployment than usual, giving us a clearer appreciation for how people managed at other difficult economic times.

Ninety years ago, in late 1930, unemployment levels during the Great Depression were biting deep into local Hunter communities. In 1933 NSW Government figures highlighted that of the State’s 31,000 unemployed men 10,000 were miners. A dependence on the mining industry had come back to haunt us.

These difficult times also bring out the best in communities and acts of kindness were everywhere. When the Miners’ Federation set up a Relief Committee at Cessnock to assist unemployed miners, cinema owner Joseph Lowe got on board. In November 1930 he ran a fundraising event at the Star Theatre at Aberdare showing ‘The Return of Sherlock Holmes’, described as ‘a first-rate talkie’ film. All the money from this successful night went to the Relief Committee.

The Star was a leader in showing the new craze for ‘talking films’, with the cinema claiming it had the best sound system in Australia. Although this might be an exaggeration, the venue was certainly good enough to be used as a demonstration theatre for sound technicians.

Two years later things were no better economically. In December 1933 the Kings Hall cinema at Kurri Kurri decided to do something special for local children, by screening free movies for them. Their large venue in Lang Street was crowded with excited kiddies who crammed themselves into every available space.

For those in hospital over the holiday season nurses have always gone the extra mile to make their patients feel special. In 1931, with budgets tight during the Great Depression, nurses at Cessnock District Hospital had to use their creativity. They decorated the wards not just with the usual paper streamers, but with branches of flowering eucalyptus trees, which they had picked and arranged into uniquely Australian Christmas floral displays. 

At Kurri Kurri District Hospital nurses created a unique event. On Christmas Eve the lights were turned off and a staff member dressed as Santa entered the hospital wards under a what was described as ‘the rays of a brilliant spotlight’ (actually a nurse holding a torch over Santa’s head!), distributing small gifts to the patients. As an extra treat they were able to listen to the hospital’s recently-installed wireless radio. A high tech treat indeed!