Memories of 1969 – 50 years on.

Starting High School, a man on the moon, a brush with death, Woodstock, a wedding, gender bending and an important arrival.

“…Girls will be boys, and boys will be girls

It’s a mixed up, muddled up, shook up world

Except for Lola

Lo lo lo lo Lola…”

Ray Davies – The Kinks

The 50 year anniversary of the moon landing, got me thinking about what else happened that year. In 1969 I was 12 years old and in my first year of high school. High school was when I first began to realise how much I loved English; the language, the literature and writing. There was a library of sorts with access to books that saw me reading voraciously. I buried myself in Jane Eyre, The Portrait of Dorian Gray, Doctor Zhivago, Crime and Punishment, 1984, Fahrenheit 451, Brave New World, and of course the Hobbit and the Lord of the Rings along with countless others of various genres. I went through a spy novel stage, and a sci fi stage, a classics stage as well as fantasy and contemporary fiction. I think my love of writing and the idea of someday writing a novel, was cemented at this time, and may be linked to my getting A+ on my book report about The Great Gatsby.

There was also a day at school where I had an accident that clearly frightened others far more than me. We were sitting in class, and someone left the room and as they closed the big heavy sliding door, it jumped off its runners and fell on top of my head. These doors were solid wood, with a glass panel in the top third of the door (not safety glass). I heard someone shout and I ducked for some reason, and then heard lots of commotion around me, someone asked, “Is she dead?” I didn’t really realise it was me who had been hit, but then the teacher was telling me not to move, so I opened my eyes and realised I was pinned to the desk with glass all around me. I waited until some other teachers could be found to help lift off the door. When the door was removed, I looked up to see everyone crowding around asking me if I was alright. Remarkably, I had only one tiny cut on my shoulder. The glass had shattered over my head and cut off a little tuft of hair, but my head was undamaged. The fact that the glass hit me was probably what saved me from serious injury, because had the wooden frame landed on my head, I think I would have been knocked out or concussed at least. It felt strange having everyone so worried, when I felt fine. I was taken to sick bay for observation, and even the principal came in to see if I was alright, though he may have been fearing litigation (not that anyone sued for things like this in those days). As it was Friday, my normal way of getting home was to walk from school to the shops to meet Mum where she would be doing the weekly shopping, it was about a 2-kilometre walk. The school decided it wasn’t safe for me to do this, so the teacher drove me, and then came with me to tell my mother what had happened. As I pointed out my Mum in the supermarket, the teacher went up to her an announced that I had been in an accident. Poor Mum, I saw the colour drain from her face; she hadn’t seen me standing next to the teacher, so I had to wave and say, “it’s ok, Mum, I’m fine, really.” It felt like so much fuss about nothing, but I guess with hindsight I realise it could have been far worse.

I recall the day of the moon landing with some clarity, because it was an event we were all excited about. It was a miserably wet July day, and the school decided at the last minute, when the moon walk time was about to happen earlier than planned, to allow students to go home to watch the event with their families, if arrangements could be made. I didn’t think I would get to go home because both of my parents worked and I usually caught the bus home, but as luck would have it, my Mum worked with Mrs B, who organised for her daughter SB to come home by taxi, and as I lived nearby, it was agreed that I would go to her place until my Mum finished work. A few of us piled into the taxi after getting completely drenched just running the few yards from the school veranda; it was bucketing down. SB and her friends were about 15 or 16, much older and more worldly than me. As we turned on the TV and waited what seemed an eternity until the moon walk began, SB’s boyfriend and a couple of other boys turned up with alcohol. So, there I was, a 12 year old detached observer, mostly ignored by a bunch of teenagers hanging out without any adults. There was joking and laughter, smoking, swearing, drinking and some pashing, and as you can imagine, I was as much in awe of what was happening around me as I was about what was soon to be beamed around the world on TV.

The room fell quiet as we watched Neil Armstrong take those first tentative steps down the ladder and set foot on the surface of the moon. We held our breath in fear and anticipation. I was so worried that his space suit was going to explode and Armstrong would be obliterated right there on our TV screens, but of course, nothing like that happened, and the party continued. It was my first encounter with teenage behaviour and the memory of it has stuck with me forever. SB became my hero for a while, she was so grown up and cool.

On grand final day, 27^th September 1969, I was honoured and very excited to be bridesmaid at my cousin Marilyn’s wedding. There had been dress fittings and lots of planning leading up to the big day. I got my first bra but needed a few tissues to fill it out so the dress would sit nicely over my non-existent bust, and of course I also got to wear make-up. Wow, this was so awesome. I don’t remember a great deal about the actual day, except for when we were in the church, after the ceremony when we went ‘backstage’ as it were, to sign the registry, Alan, the groom, handed out mints to us all. (maybe they were Lifesavers or Steamrollers) I thought this was a very cool thing to do in a church, not sure why, but it seemed a bit naughty and I loved it. It was a lot of fun; I recall lots of photos and having to smile all the time. After the reception Marilyn and Alan changed into their ‘going away’ clothes and we all stood around in a circle as they said their goodbyes. They were going to Tasmania for their honeymoon, and the day they were leaving we went down to Port Melbourne to say goodbye. I remember we were allowed onto the boat ( The Princess of Tasmania I think) and we saw their cabin and wandered around the deck before the departure. Not allowed to do that any more.

In a few weeks’ time, 2019, along the with the other bridesmaids, family and friends, we will be joining Marilyn and Alan and their children and grandchildren to celebrate their 50^th wedding anniversary.

At the end of the year, our high school had a social. Because there was no money, the entertainment was provided by the students themselves. This particular year, we had a series of acts under the banner of ‘Kommotion’, along the lines of the TV show of the same name. The word had got around that one of the acts was going to be a bit controversial, so we were all very excited to see what would happen.

The aforementioned SB and her best friend were performing the Kinks song ‘Lola’. This song was perhaps my first introduction to the idea that gender is not as binary as we were taught. As the lights dimmed and the song began, SB came on stage dressed in a man’s suit, complete with hat and pencilled-in moustache (kind of reverse of the Lola song, but we didn’t care). She danced provocatively around the stage as the song progressed, and then towards the end, she began what can only be described as a strip tease. (remember this is high school). Slowly removing each article of clothing and flinging it dramatically across the stage until as the song wound up, there she stood resplendent in only the hat and a figure-hugging semi-transparent body stocking. It was magnificent; she was magnificent. The crowd went wild. I was in awe of her bravery, and the memory of this event has stayed with me all this time. I don’t recall if there was any parental backlash, I think in those days, no one particularly paid any attention to what teenagers did. It was a time of great change and great freedom. (I have since discovered that Lola was not written until 1970, so my dates are a bit out, but let’s not let the truth get in the way of a good story)

There was one other significant event that happened in 1969, that was to have the most profound and amazing impact on my life, but at the time I was completely unaware of it.

In early July, a man and his 14-year-old son arrived in Brisbane on a flight from Sri Lanka. The rest of the family joined them several weeks later and then they all moved to Melbourne where the man found work and they started up a new life in Australia. That 14-year-old boy’s name was Neil van Buuren. We weren’t to meet until about 10 years later, although our paths crossed at least once before then, but our fates were already sealed. Lots of love, many adventures, and two wonderful children later, we are still together after 38 years.

It’s hard to understand where all the years have gone, in some ways 1969 seems like yesterday, and in others, it’s a lifetime ago. Watching the moon landing again this week reminded me of what an amazing time it was growing up in the 60’s and 70’s, and how much things have changed over that 50 years, especially with the realisation that the on-board computer they used on the Apollo 11 lunar module had less computing power than our current smart phones; it’s just mind boggling. What a world!