Peggy Steffen YHS 1947 - born in Morwell in 1935 to Snow & Joyce, who moved to a new house at 58 Fairfield Ave in 1936. Dad rode his bike from Morwell to Yallourn Briquette Factory each day - remember that hill! Number 58 was a lovely home to we three kids throughout our childhood.
Barry spent most of his spare time 'over the bush' building dugouts, tree houses and secret places, bringing home anything that wriggled, flew, crawled or swam - much to mum's dismay at times. "Possy" the orphan possum raised in a handbag hung beside the briquette stove; a young joey which hopped around after mum; and Barry's pride and joy was 'Butch', an eagle that flew around town and came back to land on his arm. Toots' (Valda) main hobby was swimming and diving, which she did very well off the tower at the old pool. My hobby was ballroom dancing (after Mrs Muddy) - taught by Cel & Shirley Hanchet. The highlight was winning Belle of Belles from 21 other girls to Claude Warren's band at Traralgon. Mum & Dad started and operated the Yallourn Taxi Truck. Aah memories - the air raid shelter built between the four houses; dad's 40 gallon drum of rationed petrol hidden; being horse-mad, I rode my bike to Hayden Davey's Dairy Farm to ride old Bonny (who was definitely the boss) down to the railway line to wave and get a whistle from the steam train. I felt most important in the milking shed, tin of feed into bin, close head rail, hook tail, wash udder and shovel ___. Before being told to leave the house due to the fires, mum let the fowls etc out, hosed the TiTree, wrapped wet nappies under the front tap for our faces, shoved my doll under my arm and with me hanging on to the pram, we ran up the street. This is a very vivid memory. Mrs Evans called us into their house. Dad almost drowned at Glen Maggie Weir whilst fishing with Mr Harry Cain - their boat overturned and Mr Cain, unfortunately, did drown. His body was found some days later. Our spacious high school - Miss Mason, Mr Priestly, Mrs Quarter. Any morsel left on the plate at lunch in cooking class meant loss of points. I ate so many onions in white sauce for my friends, I burped for hours! Kids in our street, from corner to corner, numbered about 28 - Bernie, Tommy, Pauline Thompson, Doreen, Johnnie, Margaret, Terry, Lloyd, Bill & 2 other Robinson's, Mary & Peter Bennett, Elaine & Mabel Davies, Josie, Norma & Les Davey, Helen Johnson, Olive, June & Pat Shaw, Bruce King - to name a few. The Salvation Army played on the corner some Sundays; Dad rabbiting and us pedaling around town, a pair for Mrs Harkins etc. Sometimes kids at the door "Can mum buy some eggs please?" Dad stretched the rabbit skins and dried them on Ushaped wires and sold them in the city. Mum wore a lovely brown coloured fur coat made from skins by dad's furrier cousin in Oakleigh. The two shillings "each way" wrapped in paper and pedalled to Mr ? - SP Bookmaker. Following the 'Blues' footy team with mum & dad and my first crush - Georgie Botten. Wonderful memories of a lovely town and childhood. Little did we know after 30 years in the coal dust, Dad would be called to his maker at age 66. Mum lived to 88 years. Dad was a butcher by trade but lost his job in the depression (in Melbourne). His brother, Dick, who lived at the Brown Coal Mine found him a job and that is how he and mum came to spend the majority of our lives in Yallourn, then Newborough.