Wednesday, February 17, 2016






Clockwise from top left: Ivy Flora Hose (Hay)- my grandmother at 16 years. My mother -Elma Flora Hay (taken on her 3rd birthday) and Ivy Hay and Jack (John) Hay on their wedding day (my grandparents).


My mother, Elma - in the off-shoulder dress at age 18 years; top right photo when in her early 20s.
Gympie's Scottish Gold Mine - courtesy of  Gympie Heritage Trails

Following a discourse over the past few hours between Yorkie and me on his blog – “Yorkshire Pudding” - I was reminded of a post I wrote for my blog a few years ago about Gympie, the town in which I spent my childhood and teenage years. The post included a little history about my family, on the maternal side who had been raised in Gympie.  I’m now prompted to write a little further - to move around some of those limbs on my family tree...they need a bit of shaking up - they've been dormant too long!   

One day when looking for something else I stumbled across a very old newsletter called “The Beadle.”  Yellowed with age and crinkled around the edges (not unlike me) the “news bulletin” is dated February, 1918. It was published by the Gympie Presbyterian Church; also known in Gympie as the “Scots Church”. From what I can gather it was a monthly newsletter issued by the church. 

The article would’ve originally belonged to my grandmother – my Nana – Ivy Hay, nee Hose.  Both surnames are Scottish.  Ivy had treasured it throughout her life.

What makes the newsletter interesting and personal to me is a notice therein of the untimely death of my great-grandfather, Robert Hose.

Quote: “We regret to record the death of Mr. Robert Hose, who was killed in the Scottish Gympie Mine by the fall of a rock. He was buried on the 24th, the Rev. W.J. Taylor officiating. R.Hose was just over 50 years of age, and within a few days would have left mining to take up land at Goomboorian.”

Robert Hose left behind a widow and six children; the eldest was 20 years old when Robert died; and the youngest, nine years of age.

Robert Hose was my grandmother’s father – on my mother’s side of the Stuart-MacDonald-Hose-Hay Family Tree.

A couple of brave off-shoots from the sturdy limbs of the “Tree” branched out from Scotland and Ireland to seek a better life in Australia in the mid to late 1800s.

My great-grandmother, a wee Scottish lass named Flora Stuart MacDonald” (of both Scottish and Irish heritage) married Robert Hose, a tall, dark-haired, handsome Highlander. Robert sported a ginger moustache. One of Robert Hose’s daughters was my grandmother, Ivy Flora Hose.

Down the track a bit, Ivy married John Hay. John, more commonly known as “Jack” was also of Scottish heritage.

My grandmother was in her teens at the time of her father’s fatal accident.

When my late brother, Graham and I were children Nana often told us the story of the day her father tragically died from the unfortunate accident.  Nana’s father normally didn’t work underground, but on that fateful day Robert Hose was called into work to cover for a miner who had called in sick.

That last morning before he left for work at Gympie’s Scottish Mine (at the time the Scottish Mine was the largest gold mine in Australia, if not the Southern Hemisphere), while he was shaving, her father playfully chased our grandmother around the house, waving his soaped-up shaving brush at her.  Filled with happiness she ran around the room trying to escape his playfulness. She cried out through her laughter; “No, Dadda, no!”   

He left for the mine and that was the last time Nana saw her father alive.  At least the final moments they shared were happy ones.

Nana’s older brothers used to spin a few tales when the siblings were young (as all older brothers seem to have the habit of doing). Her brothers tried to convince Ivy that the MacDonnell Ranges in the Northern Territory were discovered by a wandering relative.

Of course, the name “MacDonnell” was not the spelling of their mother’s maiden name…”MacDonald”.  Our grandmother, always an avid reader, was wise to their attempts at trickery!

Upon starting school, my mother, Elma Flora Hay was asked by one of her teachers where she’d gotten her rich, auburn hair from.  Confidently and a little haughtily, the five or six year old Elma Hay replied: “From my grandfather’s moustache!”

Where else, indeed!

My mother had beautiful auburn hair and sparkling blue eyes…a true Irish colleen! Her mother, my grandmother had deep chestnut-coloured hair and blue eyes.

On 17th February, 1919 - Elma Flora Hay was born.  Elma passed away in 1974...at the far too young age of 55. In the photos shown above, in the off-the shoulder dress, she was 18 years of age.

I'm the only survivor of my small family unit. My mother, my Nana and my brother, Graham have all passed away, leaving me to wave the flag. I am the only one left to care; I cherish the memories; memories that will disappear into the universe when I depart this world. There will be no one else left to care.

When my brother and I were children we’d harass our Nana night after night around bedtime (and at other times) to tell us stories of the “olden days”; she willingly obliged.

Nana told wonderful stories of days gone by.

Gympie has a rich history about the gold mining days.  Queensland’s treasury was in dire straits with only about nine pence left in its coffers when prospector, James Nash discovered gold near the Mary River in 1867.  Nash’s discovery ‘began one of the wildest rushes in Queensland history’ it has been recorded.

The Bank of Queensland had closed – and then the boom started...at the goldfields of Gympie, saving the state of Queensland from financial embarrassment and record unemployment.

I’ve always regretted that somewhere along the line and over the years before Nana’s passing in 1976 I’d not recorded her many interesting reminiscences onto a more permanent file other than my own memory.  It was one of those things I always meant to do, but never got around to doing.  A familiar tune.....

Take heed; let it be a lesson to each and everyone of us for the sake of our future generations. The stories our elders have stored away in their minds are worthy of recording, no matter how simple they may appear to be to our untrained ears. Myriad stories need to be told and recorded for posterity. The tales they have to tell are all part of our history. The stories may seem minor and insignificant, but mostly they’re much more than they may appear to be.

We find it so easy to pick up autobiographies by strangers; biographies of people we will never meet or get to know. Hungrily we pounce upon books of fiction, and yet many amongst us are not interested in what went on in the lives of our parents and theirs before them and so on. There is still so much to learn about our forefathers…from our parents; their parents and their parents. We shouldn’t bypass these gems of information.

My brother and I would sit in silence, open-eyed as Nana told us stories of emus poking their heads through the kitchen window with the hope of stealing the silverware. The cutlery was always hidden away out of reach of the prying eyes and beaks of the cheeky, curious emus.

An Aboriginal woman, called “Emma” used to hover around my Nana’s childhood home at Goomboorian, a rural area north-east of Gympie.

Emma played with my grandmother and her siblings when they were children.  The children adored her, and in turn she loved them. The kids teased her good-naturedly and relentlessly as children do. And from what my brother and I were told, Emma gave as good as she got.  

A long time before the politically-correct brigade came to town; many, many years before “political-correctness” became the catchphrase, Nana and her siblings would teasingly call out to Emma - “Emma-Emma-Black Bum! Emma-Emma-Black Gin”; and then they’d run in all directions, giggling, enjoying the challenge they’d set – day after day. Emma would chase them around the yard, laughing all the way. There was nothing nasty, vindictive or racist in the children’s chants;  Emma took no offence at their teasing,  name-calling.

With her long, brown skinny legs, Emma was faster than they were; a fact that they loved, and one of which they were aware. The children and Emma enjoyed the chase; the harmless fun and games.

Yes...Ivy, our grandmother had many stories to tell; and she told them to my brother and me often.  Elma, our mother, had quite a few colourful ones of her own to tell!

And, Gympie...well, Gympie has a fine history....

35 comments:

  1. I love seeing old pictures and seeing what people used to look like and what they wore. They were all so serious.

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    1. Hi Sandie....the days before selfies!

      Thanks for popping in. :)

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  2. You are so lucky to have this history - and particularly the photos...

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    1. Hi, I have all the family photos of days gone by...when I've gone by they will go with me....no one else is interested in them...their loss.

      Thanks for coming by. :)

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  3. Very interesting Lee.
    "Emma" - brings back a few memories of my early childhood,
    we had a "Jessie" - she was called the "JIVING GIN".
    She was like a nanny to us, when she wasn't in custody.
    Drink was her downfall and drink she did.
    My younger brother - at the grand age of 2 realised that safety from any of his antics was to run to the protective arms of Jessie. So funny when you think back about it. If course he denies this all now - memory LAPSE????
    Funny days when life was good and no-one had the PC crowd casting "shadows".
    Cheers
    Colin

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    1. That's for sure, Colin. Simple times...and I'm glad I'm not a youngster these days.

      Thanks for calling in. :)

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  4. I love this glimpse into your family tree... your mother could be my Auntie Margaret's twin! Auntie Margaret was also an Irish lass with auburn hair and blue eyes.

    You've shared a bit of your heritage and now we, too, carry a bit of that history with us. <3

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    1. Hi there Cranky. Mum always reminded me of Moira Shearer, the actress/ballerina who starred in the move "The Red Shoes"; also the lead dance in Michael Flatley's "Riverdance" always reminded me of my mother's looks, too.

      Six Degrees of Separation, Jacqueline...you never know! :)

      Thanks for coming by. :)

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  5. Your mother and grandmother were fine looking women.
    It's been said that all good things must end,but it's rather sad that you are the last of your line.
    Do you sometimes wear the MacDonald tartan? As a skirt or jacket?
    My children have a Scottish line in their ancestry, from their father's side and can wear the Carnegie and Ross tartans if they choose. The only one who seems interested is the youngest, J.

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    1. Hey River...yes, they were fine-looking women. Mum did a lot of modelling in her younger years.

      There are six MacDonald tartans and I never wore one of them. There is also a Hay tartan, (the name of my maternal grandfather who was Scottish, too.) But there is no Hose tartan.

      In those early times, for many years the Hose clan of which my Nana belonged were the only Hose family in Australia.

      When I was little, I did, however, have a skirt that I adored...it was the Stewart, Dress, tartan. And I still love that particular tartan.

      Mum did teach me some Scottish dancing at one stage. She was a good dancer, herself, along with being a brilliant pianist.

      I've a wonderful little hardcover book -"The Clans and Tartans of Scotland" by Robert Bain. It was handed down from Nana to Mum to me. It has photos of all the tartans and information about them and the clans. I cherish this book.

      Many Scots settled in Gympie during the gold rush days...and many went on to farming as my great-grandfather intended doing before death came a-knocking.

      Thanks for coming by. :)

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    2. My son has the same book, with bookmarks in the pages for Carnegie, Ross and McNaghten tartans, all of which he can wear if he wants to. He laso has a tie pin shaped like an old Scottish broadsword.

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    3. 'laso'?? that should be also.

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  6. The ordinary lives of ordinary people are so often more interesting than the ersatz lives of the famous but curiosity drives people into wanting to believe the famous have a special charm. The difference is that the lives of the famous do tend to be recorded although how accurately is often open to question.

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    1. 'Tis true what you say, Graham...reality without the fanfare, bells and whistles can be so very interesting, if people were prepared to discard the false facades - the pretense.

      Thanks for coming by. :)

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  7. Wonderful photos of your mum, a nice looking women.
    A good read, I enjoyed :)

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    1. Thanks, Margaret...my mother was a good-looking woman...and she had poise, she carried herself well.

      Thanks for coming by. I'm glad you enjoyed my tale. :)

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  8. I love this post so much. The photos and the 1918 article and the tales of mine workers. My paternal grandfather and his brothers were all coal miners. It is a rugged life. Emma would have accepted the fun with the children in that day and time but it is really good that such chiding is no longer politically correct.

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    1. Hi Annie...people still do some gold panning and fossicking around the Gympie area. And nowadays there is a Gympie Gold Mining and Historical Museum situated where the Scottish Mine was...at the southern entrance to the town. GYMPIE Eldorado Mine is now officially in the hands of an overseas company.

      The last operating gold mine, Eldorado Mine was bought by Singapore interests a couple or so of years ago, but as far as I know, it has since been shut down.

      Thanks for coming by. :)

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  9. What wonderful family stories. We do not know the value until we lose the sources.

    Thanks for visiting. Both sets of photos are made with my tiny pocket camera, a Canon Power Shot.

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    1. Hi Gail...it is true what you say...we don't know what we have until it's lost!

      Wow! Your photos are wonderful...well done. Canon are a good camera...and even better in the hands of someone like you who knows how to use them.

      Thanks for coming by. :)

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  10. What a wonderful piece of history to share with us.
    That was sad about your grandmother's father. Though, it sounded like he lived his life to the fullest and enjoyed each moment. Your mom was a beauty. Bet you take after her:)

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    1. G'day Sandra...yes, it was an unfortunate accident. He always worked above ground, but that day his fate was not to be denied. He left a wife and six children behind.

      When I go...all the stories I've collected throughout my life about my family history will go with me. They'll be lost...just a wee few threads in the tapestry of life.

      Thanks for coming by. :)

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  11. I enjoyed reading this post and feel pleased that it was partly ignited by our recent "discourse".

    You said: "Hungrily we pounce upon books of fiction, and yet many amongst us are not interested in what went on in the lives of our parents and theirs before them and so on." - That is so true. People obsessed with other lives but disinterested in the stories of their nearest and dearest.

    By the way your mother was a gorgeous looking lass and if she was passing our house just now, I would open the window and wolf whistle at her. Is such a response politically correct or not?

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    1. You know what, Yorkie? I don't give a damn about political-correctness and Mum would've turned and given you a wide smile! And on the subject of turning heads, she turned a few in her day! :)

      I'm glad you enjoyed this post...thanks for coming by. :)

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  12. You're right about asking about our Oldies' stories and taking time to write them down. Thankfully a cousin of mine has just finished typing up her mother's memoirs. Her stories about growing up in a family of fourteen children in the Depression are very interesting....and quite sobering too.
    PS. What a good looker your Mum was !

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    1. Hi Helsie...I think it's sad that these family stories disappear and become forgotten...that some show no interest in the stories. It's all part of who we are...who our children and our future generations become. I've nieces and nephews who don't give a damn...and I believe...okay...they might not be interested, but their children might be...and when they ask the questions about their heritage and stories from the past...there will be nothing to tell them!!!

      Mum was a good-looking girl and woman. She carried herself well, too...with poise. She learned dance for years as a child, so that didn't go astray throughout her life.

      Thanks for coming by. :)

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  13. What beautiful memories you have shared with us, your readers. Some sad, too. That is the way of life, now isn't it?

    Your tree is just full of beautiful women. Nobody in my family except me is interested in the least in my mother and grandmother's letters or in the mountain of pictures of the late 1800's and early 1900's that were of and about my father's life. I cherish them!

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    1. HI Ms Thyme....it is a shame that others aren't interested in the stories handed down through their families. These days they're more interested in fleeting text messages they receive by the minute; or the bloody Kardashians or similar!

      Thanks for coming by. :)

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  14. I loved these names - Ivy, Elma. Your mother was so lovely. You have so much family history!

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    1. Hi Lynn...I think I've only ever heard of one other "Elma", if that...I've heard "Alma" a few times, but not Elma.

      Thanks for coming by. :)

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  15. love this historical family post. One of the best one yet. Thanks for sharing. Peace

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    1. G'day Lady Di...I'm glad you enjoyed it. Thanks for coming by.

      Take care, Miss Kitty. :)

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  16. HI my name is Stuart Hoes. your grandmother was fathers sister and I am doing a family history. I live in mackay is there any way I can contact you?

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    1. Hi Lee, I'm sorry about the previous message. My Name is Stuart Hose I was born in Brisbane in 1950 to Errol Hose. I'm just learning how to use computers. I am doing our family tree and have come across this. Your Grandmother FLora Ivy was my grandfather Roy Stuart's sister. I have recently been over to Scotland to follow our family history and I have gone back to James Mucklehose born 1769, which turns to be the sixth generation of the Hose family in Australia. I live in Mackay, QLD and have been to Mt Bassett Cemetery and have found Flora and Elma's grave site. I have read your blog and I would really like to get in contact with you if you can, my email is stuarthose@hotmail.com or please feel free to call me (07)49574927
      Look forward to your response,
      Thanks Stuart Hose

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