(and some way beyond ...)
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(and some way beyond ...) |
| Henry Melmoth (Harry) | 10/2/1878 | 17/11/1941 | Born in Fitzroy |
| Rosina Rachel (Rose) | 16/2/1879 | 22/6/1960 | Born in London |
| Harry Alban Edward | 27/1/1901 | 6/1/1902 | Born at Frederick Street |
| Richard Ernest (Ern) | 19/8/1902 | 29/12/1989 | Born at Frederick Street |
| Ronald Atkinson (Ron) | 20/9/1905 | 29/12/1989 | Born at Crook Street |
| Dorothy Ada (Dot) | 22/9/1907 | 3/7/1981 | Born at Crook Street |
| Elsie Gladys (Els) | 14/12/1909 | 20/8/2000 | Born at Crook Street |
| Leonard George (Len) | 9/10/1912 | 9/11/1987 | Born at Crook Street |
| Sydney John (Syd) | 4/10/1914 | 24/2/1994 | Born at Crook Street |
| Leslie Norman (Les) | 7/4/1918 | 11/7/1988 | Born at Downs Street |
| Robert William (Bobby) | 5/11/1920 | 14/3/2004 | Born in hospital |
| CLICK HERE FOR Crook Street Memories |
| CLICK HERE FOR Downs Street Memories, Map & Photos |
| CLICK HERE FOR The Compendium Of The REED Lives |
| REED, Thomas German -- British entertainer. Born at Bristol, June 27, 1817, he early acquired theatrical and musical experience, and from 1838-51 was musical director of the Haymarket Theatre, London. In 1855, with his wife (Priscilla Horton) he started his popular dramatic entertainments, where light pieces by such writers as T. W. Robertson, P. C. Burnand, and W. S. Gilbert were performed, among his colleagues being John Parry and Corney Grain. These at the Gallery of Illustrations, and later at St George's Hall, were long a feature of London life, and were continued for a few years after Reed's death at Sheen, March 21, 1888. |
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This is how we are related to German REED. Recall that Henry Melmoth REED's father was Richard Harrison REED, born Fitzroy 1853 and died 1912. Now his father was Thomas REED, who married Amelia Anne Smith in 1852. It is believed (more than a strong hunch) that Thomas REED had an older half-brother (namely, Thomas German REED). Their father (that is the father of Thomas and T. German) was W. F. REED. This W. F. REED was first married to Frances GERMAN. Hence the rather exotic Christian name given to their son. W. F. REED was the conductor at the Haymarket Theatre and on retiring, passed the baton onto his son. It would seem that (as a widower) he came to Australia and married the woman who would become mother to Thomas REED. So take Len REED (for instance): His father was Henry Melmoth His grandfather was Richard Harrison His great grandfather was Thomas And his great-great grandfather was W. F., with great-great-uncle T. German thrown in for good measure. So T. German Reed IS related to us all. But way, way, way back ... |
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April, 1849. Music Warehouse. 44 High Street, Islington. Messrs. Reed and Sons, in returning their best thanks to their numerous friends, for the kind patronage bestowed on them for so many years, beg to announce that they have disposed of the Business to Mr. P. H. Moles, in whose behalf they most respectfully solicit a continuance of those favours with which Messrs. Reed and Sons have hitherto been honoured; feeling assured, that their successor, from his great professional experience, and uniform attention, will merit the support of the extensive connexion which Messrs. Reed and Sons, have had the good Fortune to enjoy. |
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"Was Syd there?" "Yes. They can't start without Syd." "And Meg?" "Yes." "What was she wearing?" "Dunno." "And Les and Elva?" "Yes. They were there." "And what did they have to say?" "Nothing." "So what did you talk about?" "We didn't. I've told you a 1000 times before: we go to the Races to watch the races." Hmmmmph! |
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The cartoon above (my tribute to the collection) only gives a vague notion of the Reed presence at the Races: we took up a whole bench. True, the ladies might have a natter during the day, sitting in the same seat for a couple of races. But the gents flew off as soon as the race result was decided: to punt on the next race, collect winnings, have a beer, stand about in the betting ring under the green umbrellas and not speak about anything other than horseflesh or bookies' odds. They might just mention footy or cricket -- but only in a dire emergency ... We would receive a phone call from Bobby on a Saturday afternoon. "Come into the City. We'll go to the Savoy Plaza." That meant a big win. But there was also the cold shoulder when Bobby came home winless. He would try to explain that (but for the negligence of the jockey, the dastardly tactics of rival jockeys and the parlous state of the track) the nag he'd backed was a moral to win. No dice! I was often at the track as a child. I can still remember playing about near the bandstand. Such was my knowledge of horses and jockeys that as a youngster at school, I recognized Todman in a photograph on the old newspapers spread about on the floor. My parents had to front-up (shamefaced) at the headmaster's office to explain how it was that their child could read at this very early age! I used to see Peter Reed at the Races: he is Len and Min's second son. His daughter strapped Arctic Scent for her electrifying 1996 win in the Caulfield Cup. |
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There used to be sturdy guard rails situation in the streets of Ascot Vale, near the Showgrounds. Cattle were herded along by foot and it might happen that one of the beasts might go troppo. People scurried behind the rails for protection. The Royal Melbourne Show provided FREE sample bags in the 1920s. Just as now, there were plenty of farm animals to view and a Grand Parade. The Reeds conducted their own Royal Show with snails employed as the animals. They were required to participate in the Grand Parade and arena events in addition to spending some time in their pens. As the conclusion of the week we expressed our gratitude by drowning all the snails, even the Grand Champions. |
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Above: Syd is in the front row, left-most. These were the Coburg High School Senior cricket eleven of 1928. Sport was an important entertainment, and more often than not, improvized. Dad had laid a cricket pitch in the backyard (hence the rollers). There was no LBW decision but there was an HOF call which caused instant dismissal. HOF was "hit over fence". The cricket pitch could instantly transform in to a tennis court for tennis or bat tennis. It wasn't just the golf practice set which caused a ball to hiss over the fence onto Mrs Blackburn's roof (when the elastic broke). Dad demonstrated a Bradman-like pull shot and shied the ball in that direction again! And there was the famous hockey incident (also recorded by Les) whereby Dad crashed through the fence as Colin Patterson (wielding a cricket wicket as a standby hockey stick) came flying into the fray. It is little wonder that later in life most of us took some interest in horse racing, when one remembers that Dad (when young) once clung to the limb of a tree along the Maribyrnong River side of the Flemington Racecourse to watch the horses on Derby Day. Reckoned that he was the following Tuesday's Melbourne Cup winner thereby. Dad was also pursued by a policeman on the Melbourne Cricket Ground one Saturday when he jumped the fence after Carlton had won a premiership. Such an act was strictly forbidden then. He was always a loyal Carlton supporter. |
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The "centrewich" now has to be described. Take a delicious sponge sandwich and cut it such that there is a circle in the middle and then 8 wedges. The centre "circle" becomes the "centrewich". Voila! This was an undoubted favourite among the Reed clan. |
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Sunday night at Downs Street was always a free and easy affair and quite humourous: there was very keen competition over the centrewich. Apple pie and cream, and scones (but not Muriel's). Once Len threw all of the latter's baked goods down the lane, only to find Muriel (the maid) exclaiming: "Oh, good! You've eaten all the scones! I'll make another batch." That led to the collapse of the Reed boys. Other Reeds remember Mum's coffee rolls. Sometimes as many as 14 souls clustered around the table on a Sunday night, and it was a very merry affair. Les recalls the cold roast left over from the huge Sunday lunch. And he doted on the gem scones. Muriel comes in for another serve: notably her floaters and sinkers, not to mention her tripe (what could you say, comments Les). It defied gravity -- ask Ron! Bobby recalls the humour and the punning. |
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The Tel-Aviv advert is a hoot. Mr Feigenbaum evidently had no idea who Ned Kelly was, but was determined to fleece the Diggers in the Holy Land during the Australian occupation there. Bobby once held a random (but lucky!) audience enthralled at the Canberra War Museum when he described the real action (at the Tobruk diarama). Syd is front row, far left in the magnificent posed shot; and the postcard of Syd shows what a handsome man he was. The Digger in the jungle is none other than Kevin "Choco" Sullivan, who is often mentioned in the these pages. |
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Above (row of 3 photos), Bobby poses with proud Dad and Mum. It is devestating to think that once Bobby sailed for the Middle East, he did not see his father again. The lower photo was posed in the Holy Land (probably at Mr Feigenbaum's worthy establishment) as a jest -- a postcard to send home and enthrall the rellies. Bobby portrays an Aghan brigand on the right. Just as an aside, Mum was visited by a policeman during the early 1940's and almost fainted. "Oh! I have 2 sons fighting in the War", she gasped, thinking that this uniformed man was the harbinger of bad news. "No, lady, I'm only here to check on one of the neighbours who's been burgled!" |
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Bobby treasured his copy of "Ginger Meggs": it travelled with him right through WWII and is part of the collection. As mentioned elsewhere, Bobby and Syd had wallets stuffed with tiny photos of family members, particularly the newer members. Ron and Alice had a son (also called Ron), Dot and Peter had a daughter Katherine (usually called "Beverly" in those days) and a son Roger, and Len and Min had Barry. |
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