Three photos today!
These are photographs of the house where I grew up. Last week it was bulldozed over to make way for a new highway.
I remember in the early 1960s, Dad building the room to the right in the first and second pictures, and welding the wrought iron railings for the steps in the first and third pictures.
The first photo was 1965. The other two photos were taken recently. It’s all gone now, as things do…
Listen to the music HERE.
It’s a shame it’ll be lost.
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The irony is/was – an older brother is contracted to put in the new highway and is the one who bulldozed the house!
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Was he always so heartless? Jeez that sounds harsh!
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The road is to become one of the major “escapes” out of the capital city, Wellington, which is earthquake prone and has only the one little road in and out! It’s a trap!
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I see.
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The minor key is nicely nostalgic. I liked the traffic noise as well. I hope you don’t feel too bad about the house. It would be a great loss for some people.
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The new highway will go right through our old farm – even takes out the old cow shed and hen house! The farm was sold in the early 1970s. The house had become a wedding venue!
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Since I’ve returned to the old home town after an absence of fifty years, I try not to have to drive past the big house where I grew up (now turned into tenements for welfare recipients and in terrible ramshackle condition) and I try not to think of certain fraternal ironies, but here you have me remembering…….sad feelings with your sad music…..but there have been so many places since, and so many of them good.
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I am consoled by the fact that so many “greedy” people demand “emotional” monetary compensation for the loss of their family home in the way of the new highway – they actually don’t give a cow’s fart but just want the money – all my brothers and sisters met at the house before it went and then you “just get on with it”! Again – to tie in several themes – we are all tarred with the Wordsworthian Romantic view of the world and our past!
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Hmm. Not to be contrary – oh what the hell, I think I shall be – not everyone has a Wordsworthian Romantic view of the world and our past. I stand aghast or a-gassed, or something. Knock down the hen-houses (metaphor anyone?), pave paradise, damn the consequences!
Nice 60’s home, though.
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I was just thinking as I weeded the garden: “Where’s Susanne?” I was afraid your absence might create a nostalgic sentiment – “Break break break on thy cold grey stones, O sea” – Lord Tennyson!!!
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Oh lord – Tennyson! Memories of English Lit 101. Is it possible to have a Wordsworthian attitude towards dead old English dudes studied in one’s youth?
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LOL! That’s not fair – English 101 we had to do Alexander Pope and John Dryden!
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A house is only as good as the memories it holds…….. my aged aunts house was bulldozed in the late 60’s to make way for the Wellington motorway. The house was an ancient terrace at the top of Molesworth St and held delicious memories for me – I still think of it and can remember so many of its nooks and crannies, even though I can no longer pick the place where it would have been when I cruise along that super highway that makes travel so much more pleasant than it used to be.
This is a fine piece of music to honour your old home Bruce.
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Thank you! I think it’s true about the memories. The old farm house held memories, but since it was no longer ours, the memories belonged “back then”. So it’s not as if we could relive them even if the house still stood. This house in question was at the Peka Peka turnoff. I remember the road going in the Molesworth area.
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Sad, but you have pictures and your memories. I frequently visit the house I grew up in – it is rather decrepit and I have dreams of wining the lottery, buying it and restoring it. Ah, dreams!
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I have the same dream, but of another house I once lived in!
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So sorry. All those memories now live in your heart – a very safe place which no highway can pave its way through.
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“I’m driving down the highway to your heart” sort of sounds like a good title for a song!
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Oh my, such sad, heavy music. It goes with memories of my ancestral home -also gone – burned down in a fire apparently. Appropriately apocalyptic I think.
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The sad heavy music was probably more of a lament for the passing of the cowshed… 😦
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A lovely dirge in requiem for your treasured childhood and family memories.
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A superb, sadly romantic, piece, Bruce.
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Thank you, Derrick.
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I watched my house, my school and my favourite pub being pulled down. I wish I had more photos of them. It is so good to blog about them like this Bruce. V. Sad…
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Thank you!
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Sad and nostalgic. I am sure nothing can bulldoze it off your memories.
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Indeed not!
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