Neil Thompson's Memories 7th July, 2000

Early Days -

The Family went to Hoopers every Sunday for tea. This being my first recollection. There were two things of which I was terrified, "Pincher", the dog, which was aptly named by the way, and a flock of geese, which to me, always seemed menacing. The meals, especially at Xmas time, were outstanding, with a variety of poultry, home made pressed ox tongue, brawn (derived mainly from pigs head) followed by fruit salad and trifle with lashings of thick cream. This was prepared on a rather small wood stove, the lighting supplied by fuel fired lamps, such as the "Tilley", which had to be pumped up every so often by a plunger on the side. Wal was in charge of the selection, cooking and distribution of these meals which were always late arriving at the table, but were worth waiting for. When both Betty and Mrs Power were present Wal was faced with a delicate situation in as who was served that delectable tit bit known as "the parsons nose". One occasion stands out in my mind when a rather shy, uniform clad soldier arrived, I think he hitch hiked from Kapooka. This, of course, was James Macartney.

A sad memory was the day the family was informed of the death of Albert. We were on our way to Wagga to visit John, who was in hospital with rheumatic fever, and, for some reason or other, called in to the Tootool Post Office where the mail had just arrived. In that mail was the telegram which spelt out the sad news in a few words. Grandfather was away working on some earth moving project and he was duly summoned home. I will never forget the sight of this ageing man shuffling down the corridor, head down, shoulders hunched, a devastated man.

Thomas Hooper -

Thomas Hooper was the finest gentleman I have ever known, I never once heard him lose his temper, in fact he was the complete pacifist. His thoughts were always for those around him, he worked all his life for little financial gain, stack building until quite late in his life, and, of course, helping out with the poultry farm. He was meticulous in his art of stack building. I, more often than once, was the "sheaf turner", whose job it was to present the sheaf to the builder in the right position. If this was not done to his satisfaction, a gentle chiding would follow.

Granny Hooper -

Granny, for the most part, did not seem to derive much pleasure out of life, prone to complaining about most things, but for all this she had a heart of gold. In her defence, one must remember that she was uprooted from home to home several times, and later on she had to endure long separations from Grandfather when he was contract earth moving in the MIA. It was probably about this time began drinking a little for it must have been a lonely existence. She was fortunate to have almost all her faculties and reasonable mobility, although I seem to remember she was partially confined to wheelchair in later life. She was not noted for her diplomacy or choice of words. The Chaplin kids would often turn up and were often greeted with, "Get home you kids". This was usually met with blank stares and little or no movement.

Alma Hooper - Thompson.

I do not need to write a great deal here, it should be well known what I thought of my mother. Suffice to say she inherited a great many of her father's good points as well as being an unselfish, loving and intensely protective mother. She was hard working to the extreme, much preferring to be paddling around in the dirt and mud, tending to her beloved poultry, than household chores.

Edna Hooper - Ayling.

I will not dwell too much on her because I had very little contact with her. She was very much life her mother, both in build and personality wise, a chronic hypochondriac and she seeded to spend much of her time in a state of anxiety. She and her husband, Fred, had insatiable appetites and could despatch large quantities of food at one sitting. Grandfather had a wonderful dry type of humour and once he was heard to say following a typical feast, "you want to try and pick a bit, Fred?"

Walker Hooper -

Like his father, he was one of natures gentlemen, with a wonderful sense of humour which was even more evident after he had a few ales. He was one of the hardest workers I have known, despite a lifelong disability with one leg which resulted in a pronounced limp. He would put in a hard days work (0730-1730)"picking up" in a wood shed, which entailed a lot of walking, then come home and put in several hours more to catch up with the running of the poultry farm. He was equally at ease with young people and enjoyed their company, as the next few paragraphs will prove. We all called him "Wal" which seemed a little disrespectful as far as John and I were concerned, but he didn't mind.

John, myself and friends like Jack Vennell and Clem Flinn often went on holiday to Manly and on one occasion Wal came with us. We usually stayed in a unit which we chose because of its close proximity to the beach and a hostelery. On one occasion we were in the dressing shed at Manly Beach preparing to go for a dip and as we were changing into our swim attire, Wal noticed a man, who was totally disrobed, and though there was something odd about his male appearance, I am not sure if this was because of its generous proportion, or the opposite, but I prefer to think it was the latter. "Look, look", said Wal pointing to that part of his anatomy under scrutiny, and proceeded to giggle. Naturally the victim was very angry with this treatment and proceeded to say so. "It's all right mate" Wal said. "We're from the bush", to which the man retorted, "Well, I don't appreciate your bush wit".

Being only of slight build Wal was often "dumped" quite violently in the surf, arms, legs and baldy head tumbling about everywhere. On some such occasions he would take a deep breath, lie face down in the water, motionless, floating, looking, for all in the world, like a drowning victim. It was amusing to watch the curious looks of fellow surfers when he did this.

He was also a very good "bush mechanic". He retrieved a wreck of unknown origin, from a tip somewhere and got it in working order, put a tray on the back and used it as a general purpose ute. It was a remarkable machine, he would use it to shunt railway trucks (when he was working on the wheat silos) then come home, jack up the back wheels, attach a pulley, and proceed to crush a few bags of grain for the poultry.

Wal liked the ladies and they, in turn, liked him. In later years he formed a friendship with the widow, Amy Power. They were an odd couple, her a stern, uncompromising lady who was critical of everything and everybody; Wal being the opposite. I remember one time, after they had returned from a trip to Wagga in her car, she was asked if she had enjoyed the trip, to which she replied, "terrible, he hit every pot hole between here and Wagga, didn't miss one".

Betty Hooper - Macartney.

One of my earliest memories of my aunt was when she took John and I to Deniliquin, by train, to where the men were engaged in canal construction. I do not recall where we caught the train, but we stayed overnight in Junee en route, it must have been in the middle of summer because the room was very hot, and, Junee being a major railway town in those days, trains went through all night. Next day we went on to Deniliquin and it was on this leg that two things remain clearly in my mind. The first was when I was obviously looking out the window of the train and a hot cinder lodged in my right eye, which caused me a great deal of discomfort, a scar I wear to this day. The second was, for some unaccountable reason, John and I managed to lock ourselves in the toilet. This caused a great deal of consternation until we were rescued by a young airman, who had joined us in the carriage. This was not suprising, as Betty was an attractive young lady with a fine figure, and was never short of admirers. Jack Barnewall was smitten with her but, unfortunately for him, his ardour was not reciprocated. I think the gallant airman fashioned a device from a toothbrush to turn the lock of the toilet door. I remember very little about the stay in Deniliquin, but I can recall coming home, Wal was up front driving a couple of horses attached to a custom made mobile home built on a truck chassis, this remained in Hoopers yard for many years. I remember clearly coming through French Park singing "The Wonderful Wizard of Oz" with great gusto. On reflection I would guess that I would have been about eight years of age when the aforementioned events occurred.

Annette, I hope you find these few memories and antidotes some interest to you, I seem to recall you asking me to put a few things on paper some time ago. Kindest regards, Neil PS I wouldn't mind a copy if you feel inclined.