My life in Melbourne in the fifties was very different from the forties when we had lived in a cramped dwelling above our shop in the local shopping strip of Carnegie in Melbourne’s eastern suburbs. During this time my mother was desperately ill and frequently in hospital, so we were fortunate that my aunt was able to take her place running the shop. My father had emigrated from Britain and invested in small businesses at Gisborne, Richmond and Carnegie. When he sold the Gisborne business he continued to operate a shop in Richmond and could afford to buy a house in Hawthorn where he hoped a garden and fresh air would help my mother recuperate.

Soon after WWII house prices were ‘pegged’ by the government of the day, which made a large house in Hawthorn affordable at 2,500 pounds. Only two changes were made professionally: one was the laying of maroon carpet which was the only colour choice at that time, and the other was the installation of a coal heater in the dining room, leaving the rest of the house very cold. My father rebuilt the kitchen cupboards and planted an orchard of fruit trees on the (too short) tennis court. My sister who is 11 years older than I am was to be married in the house in due course. After we moved to Hawthorn I went to a tiny school with the grand name of Chiselhurst in a house opposite the Grace Park tennis courts. Later I was enrolled at MLC which was within walking distance. My mother and aunt had been students there in the early 1900s.

My Jewish grandparents had fled from Russia: my father was born in England and my mother in Australia. We did not know many European Jewish families who arrived during and after the war, however my mother often made cakes which were sold on stalls to raise money to help Jewish refugees. We became long-standing friends with families my parents helped. We were never religious, but when I was about nine years of age I went to Hebrew school in rooms above a shop in Cotham Road, Kew, accompanied by the elder son of my parents’ friends. We travelled on two trams and bought a ‘penny transfer’ from the first tram conductor to cover both trams. This school was a new experience and my first introduction to a Rabbi. Mostly the class was about reading Hebrew script ─ easy. Hebrew is read from right to left and starts from what we call the back of the book. We would rattle on without a clue as to the meaning of the words. We read from the prayer book and the English translation on the opposite page. No vocabulary and no grammar to learn! I remember one Sunday everyone raced downstairs to see the fantastic futuristic car driven by a wealthy dad. It was a Packard Clipper.

Being very shy, I stayed in the background at Hebrew school and also at school, but from fifth grade on I found it easier to make friends at MLC. Fortunately my mother’s health improved and friends were always welcome at our home. A regular guest was an English cousin, a dashing divorcee of about forty who was a musician on the P&O boats. Even after he moved to Melbourne for good my parents would drive me to St Kilda on many Sunday afternoons to buy continental cakes from Acland Street, check out the boats at Port Melbourne and people-watch from the car.

The highlight of the fifties was our trip to Europe. The year after Queen Elizabeth’s coronation we boarded the Strathnaver to travel to London to meet lots of relatives, particularly my grandmother who had not seen her son for 34 years. We stayed with family in London from May to November during which time we did a Cook’s tour of Europe and my father drove us around England and Scotland ─ certainly a huge learning experience.

After one more year at MLC, it seemed time to be near earning a living, and so I enrolled at Burwood Teachers’ College in only its second year and began teaching. This was a disappointment to my parents who had hoped for higher education for me. I met my husband at the same teachers’ college and he furthered his education at Melbourne University while I set about raising our two sons.