MEMORIES OF St. Agnes, Church of England 1948 - 1975 |
| St. Agnes Church of England, Military Road, Grange 1975 |
I attended the church and Sunday School classes until my early teens on a regular basis. I went by myself as no one else in our household was 'Church of England', and iit was just a short distance to go, with my 'thrupence' (3d) coin as a church offering, tied up in a handkerchief for safe keeping. The photo is from the top of our top back yard, looking towards St. Agnes.
I received many awards at Christmas - books with inscription for 'Good Attendance'. I'm not sure how I came to become so closely connected. The hall was used extensively by many in the local community, as cars were still not owned by many, women drivers were a rarity. My backyard was a place where I could watch the church happenings. Weddings were frequent, often with receptions held in the hall. I loved seeing the multicoloured dots of paper confetti mixed in with the gravel outside the hall. But that wasn't the only thing that I discovered about the gravel. I would go there after functions, when all had left, and with keen eyesight, I found so many coins that had been dropped, and I became quite a scavenger. It never occurred to me that I should find a way to return these coins, instead I'd head to either my local store nearby on Beach Street, or to Kirkcaldy Rd (now Grange Rd), and chocolate was my sweet of choice - 2 shillings for a large block - bullets were 8 for a penny in the early 60s, I can remember that.
Many of the functions of the Hall were for gatherings, meetings, but I mostly remember exercise and dance groups. We would use hula hoops and beanbags to help with exercising. I know when I was around 5 I was part of a troop of dancers who went on to dance in the Adelaide Town Hall, and fairly certain it was a dance group from the hall. I remember the dress being especially made for me. But the wings and the star for my wand and hair and wings were made at home. My Dad mainly doing it, with me 'helping'. It was light pink in colour, with soft pink tulle and sequins. I still remember Dad drawing a star using a set square to check the angles, before cutting the shape, and then we used silver foil (the uncoloured sides from Easter egg wrappings) to cover them (for headdress, and fairy wand, adding elastic cord. To me it was amazing that my Dad was so clever to make such things. The wings came from wire coat hangers - another amazing transformation, covered with tulle and more sequins. I found the Adelaide Town Hall to be exciting fun, but that is about all I remember - other than the fuss about having eyebrows drawn on and lipstick on my lips, and not enjoying that at all!
My father had a black FJ Holden, and owned the Henley & Grange Cab Co., operating from Ramsgate Hotel and Grange Hotel cab sites. He would often be the driver for married couples at the church. I would 'help' him with preparing it - cleaning it inside and out, and loved most of all attaching the white satin ribbon that went from the front windows to the hood ornament in a V. Wedding receptions were just one of so many events and happenings in the hall, it was also used for Sunday School classes. When Grange Primary (Public) school buildings burnt down, in the mid 1950s, some classes were held in this hall, and also some school meetings, too.
As a church member I remember with surprise being chosen for the choir, to this day, I'll never know why, as I really can't sing, so I often say that I lost this ability when I stopped going to church there. I was much more fascinated by the pipe organ. I was already an aspiring pianist, a student of Miss Jacka in Henley Beach, just off Main St.. I can remember Brian Wheatly (sp?) who was very good on the organ. I also enjoyed Palm Sunday, as we would have great cut-off palm fronds to wave around.
I greatly admired the rector, Phillip Smith. He lived in a newly built house behind the church. I remember he had a daughter Penny, I believe? Reverend Smith always had time for me it seemed. I told him of my dreams of being an artist, and he even bought me some large sheets of cartridge paper on which I drew bible scenes in lead pencil. I was also fascinated with old fonts, and would practice lettering same as I'd see in the older bibles. By chance I happened to run into him at an event where I was working - either in the West Parklands, or at Apollo Stadium, Richmond (1971-2?). I don't know whether to trust my memory or not, but seems he surprised me by telling me he was living in the USA. I worked for Rigby's book publishers at the time and he told me of some poetry he'd written, and was looking for a publisher. I was sent a copy of his poems, but I was unable to do anything, and still had his writings, until recently, and may still have them. I had told him I was doing freelance work (art/screen advertising) for Val Morgans at that time and how he had encouraged me as a child to follow my dreams for doing and pursuing art, and that delighted him, that he had inspired me.
On Sundays, while the main congregation would remain in church, the children would go to the hall for classes. Mostly it was hearing a bible story, then everyone would draw a scene from the story, or we were given printed scenes of same to colour in. However, at the time, if you became a teen, the classes was no longer available - I think there were evening classes instead and I wasn't allowed to attend those. So I was automatically 'promoted' to 'teacher' and assigned a class. That's when my relationship with the church changed. I didn't want to teach, but ended up doing so, anyway. I was assigned a class of boys only a year or two younger than myself. We were assigned a room in the back of the hall. If there was an event scheduled for the hall, the room had wooden crates of soft drinks stored in them, stacked up. In classes the boys seemed eager to learn, and would call me over to get me to look closely at their work, or discuss something. It wasn't until I was called in to answer for the empty drink bottles in the classroom I learnt all about the rouse of distracting me. The boys would come prepared - armed with bottle openers (usually attached to pocket knives), and straws. They would pop the lid off, and put a straw in, and then drink away, with me distracted elsewhere.
Thinking I was clued up on the 'naughty' boys. I became more involved in getting them to draw while I told bible stories. Again, I learnt quite a lesson. The boys seemingly busy with their drawings illustrating the story I was reading out and discussing. When it was time to go, they left quite quickly, and I was left to clean up. I was pleased that they seemed really engrossed in the bible stories. But then I gathered up the papers, and I was in for quite a shock. They had indeed illustrated the stories, but the people in the drawings were all naked!
It wasn't too long after that, Mum took me to town, and I got my first pair of stockings, with a seam up the back, and a tight skirt and some 'high' heels, that weren't too high. And so with my grown-up looks, I thought were great, I went to church. Classes were seated at the front of the congregation, My class of boys were in the front rows. For some reason I was late getting there, with a full church. As I walked down the aisle for some reason one of the boys looked around and saw me coming, and in a few seconds, it seems like all the boys had turned around, and one after another, until there was a chorus, they filled the church with full-on wolf whistles. I got about 1/2 way down the aisle. It was just one step too far. I turned around and went home, and believe that was the last time I attended.
The church bell at St. Agnes was always rung on Sunday mornings to signal a call to the service to be conducted. The bell tower (green arrow in top photo) had and enclosed 'room' at the bottom of it. The rector would unlock/unbolt it to enter, as a rope would dangle down into a hole in the top of this room, so the bell could be rung. It was a secure way of stopping anyone from ringing the bell as a lark.
As a teen I became quite aware of trying to be grown-up and tried to emulate Hollywood actresses, wearing the latest in bikini swimwear. I'd sunbathe at the top of our yard - about where the photo above was taken. While used to the bell ringing on Sunday mornings if the bell rang at other times, it would gain attention by those in homes nearby. So we would go try to see what was happening. It took me a while to figure out that some of the local boys I knew, were gathering the gravel from out front of the hall, and aiming at the bell, to 'ring' it, just so that I'd stand up in bikini.
I still have fond memories of St Agnes. I loved its stained glass windows, and that, as a child, I was encouraged to follow my dreams. And still grateful that the rector was interested enough in my art to make me feel like I wasn't just wasting my time.
As a church member I remember with surprise being chosen for the choir, to this day, I'll never know why, as I really can't sing, so I often say that I lost this ability when I stopped going to church there. I was much more fascinated by the pipe organ. I was already an aspiring pianist, a student of Miss Jacka in Henley Beach, just off Main St.. I can remember Brian Wheatly (sp?) who was very good on the organ. I also enjoyed Palm Sunday, as we would have great cut-off palm fronds to wave around.
I greatly admired the rector, Phillip Smith. He lived in a newly built house behind the church. I remember he had a daughter Penny, I believe? Reverend Smith always had time for me it seemed. I told him of my dreams of being an artist, and he even bought me some large sheets of cartridge paper on which I drew bible scenes in lead pencil. I was also fascinated with old fonts, and would practice lettering same as I'd see in the older bibles. By chance I happened to run into him at an event where I was working - either in the West Parklands, or at Apollo Stadium, Richmond (1971-2?). I don't know whether to trust my memory or not, but seems he surprised me by telling me he was living in the USA. I worked for Rigby's book publishers at the time and he told me of some poetry he'd written, and was looking for a publisher. I was sent a copy of his poems, but I was unable to do anything, and still had his writings, until recently, and may still have them. I had told him I was doing freelance work (art/screen advertising) for Val Morgans at that time and how he had encouraged me as a child to follow my dreams for doing and pursuing art, and that delighted him, that he had inspired me.
On Sundays, while the main congregation would remain in church, the children would go to the hall for classes. Mostly it was hearing a bible story, then everyone would draw a scene from the story, or we were given printed scenes of same to colour in. However, at the time, if you became a teen, the classes was no longer available - I think there were evening classes instead and I wasn't allowed to attend those. So I was automatically 'promoted' to 'teacher' and assigned a class. That's when my relationship with the church changed. I didn't want to teach, but ended up doing so, anyway. I was assigned a class of boys only a year or two younger than myself. We were assigned a room in the back of the hall. If there was an event scheduled for the hall, the room had wooden crates of soft drinks stored in them, stacked up. In classes the boys seemed eager to learn, and would call me over to get me to look closely at their work, or discuss something. It wasn't until I was called in to answer for the empty drink bottles in the classroom I learnt all about the rouse of distracting me. The boys would come prepared - armed with bottle openers (usually attached to pocket knives), and straws. They would pop the lid off, and put a straw in, and then drink away, with me distracted elsewhere.
Thinking I was clued up on the 'naughty' boys. I became more involved in getting them to draw while I told bible stories. Again, I learnt quite a lesson. The boys seemingly busy with their drawings illustrating the story I was reading out and discussing. When it was time to go, they left quite quickly, and I was left to clean up. I was pleased that they seemed really engrossed in the bible stories. But then I gathered up the papers, and I was in for quite a shock. They had indeed illustrated the stories, but the people in the drawings were all naked!
It wasn't too long after that, Mum took me to town, and I got my first pair of stockings, with a seam up the back, and a tight skirt and some 'high' heels, that weren't too high. And so with my grown-up looks, I thought were great, I went to church. Classes were seated at the front of the congregation, My class of boys were in the front rows. For some reason I was late getting there, with a full church. As I walked down the aisle for some reason one of the boys looked around and saw me coming, and in a few seconds, it seems like all the boys had turned around, and one after another, until there was a chorus, they filled the church with full-on wolf whistles. I got about 1/2 way down the aisle. It was just one step too far. I turned around and went home, and believe that was the last time I attended.
The church bell at St. Agnes was always rung on Sunday mornings to signal a call to the service to be conducted. The bell tower (green arrow in top photo) had and enclosed 'room' at the bottom of it. The rector would unlock/unbolt it to enter, as a rope would dangle down into a hole in the top of this room, so the bell could be rung. It was a secure way of stopping anyone from ringing the bell as a lark.
As a teen I became quite aware of trying to be grown-up and tried to emulate Hollywood actresses, wearing the latest in bikini swimwear. I'd sunbathe at the top of our yard - about where the photo above was taken. While used to the bell ringing on Sunday mornings if the bell rang at other times, it would gain attention by those in homes nearby. So we would go try to see what was happening. It took me a while to figure out that some of the local boys I knew, were gathering the gravel from out front of the hall, and aiming at the bell, to 'ring' it, just so that I'd stand up in bikini.
I still have fond memories of St Agnes. I loved its stained glass windows, and that, as a child, I was encouraged to follow my dreams. And still grateful that the rector was interested enough in my art to make me feel like I wasn't just wasting my time.
