These days many kids are delivered to school and activities, but in my day we kids, even the little ones, walked most places. Most families had no car, and those that did generally had only one (doctor’s families being the main exception I think) so if it was close by it was strictly Shanks’ Pony; but then we were never sent very far until we were able to manage catching a bus, or maybe two, to get where we needed to go. We walked to school; we were sometimes sent to the local shops (butcher, grocer, newsagent and post office) and we played with the kids we were friendly with in our street. If everyone was out or away, we kept ourselves amused at home.
If we didn’t have a big sister or brother to go with us, we walked with a friend of the same age. Caroline and I were the same age, from the same street, and our parents were very close friends. Aged just 4, we each began preschool in St. Oswalds church hall on Trevallyn, run by Mrs. Kerr. To get there we walked along our house on Forest Road, across a creek and up onto Trevallyn Road, where we had to cross this busy street; we then walked up the steep laneway beside Gran’s house (#51) and along Bain Terrace to the hall. As we reached the top of the lane one morning, some big kids leaped over a fence and began hitting and punching us. I rolled right down to the bottom of the hill, landing with skin scraped from my forehead, nose, chin and knees; and somewhere along the way lost my little school satchel with my play lunch in it. I don’t remember whether Caroline was hurt, and only vaguely remember that Gran or someone from her house sorted us out and got us safely to preschool. Mrs. Kerr and Gran probably both phoned our parents, because I remember Dad storming out of the house that evening to visit the parents of those bullies. We were never set upon again.
I remember losing my play lunch – perhaps one of those big kids took it, threw it away or ate it. The notion of having a little food during mid morning school recess seems universal, but calling it ‘play lunch’ varies around Australia, according to family and friends surveyed. It is still in use in some places, in others it is ‘little lunch’ or ‘a snack’. Our grandkids are all young Americans for whom ‘snacks’ covers all things eaten between meals. Play lunch was sometimes an orange or a banana, but usually an apple, of which we always had a box at the back door. Apples were cheap and the most common ‘snack’ we had.
Preschool was just mornings. But after that came primary school with classes from about 8.45 to 3.30, just as today. Caroline and I began school at Trevallyn State. According to Google, it takes 18 minutes to walk the 1.3km from our house at 9 Forest Rd. uphill to the Trevallyn State School, though I cut through Caroline’s place collecting her on the way; so, accounting for us being little, let’s say it took us about 20 minutes each way. Launceston winters are frosty, cold, damp and used to be frequently foggy in winter – but come rain, hail or shine we walked that return route twice per day. Today’s parents wouldn’t countenance it, but back in the 50s it was considered just fine for two little 4 and 1/2 year olds to walk without an adult; and if one of us was sick the other walked alone. But of course, other kids of all ages were walking too, so as I recall there were plenty of eyes on us all the way. As school let out for lunch at about 12.40 and resumed at 1.50, there wasn’t much playground time left by the time we got there, but at least our lunch was well settled in our stomachs!
Each tuesday I was allowed to have lunch at school, making it my favourite day. Every week I took the same lunch – two rounds of white bread sandwiches of mashed egg with chopped chives, wrapped in greaseproof paper. They’re still my favourite sandwiches. It was all packed in a recycled brown paper bag with a piece of cake and a piece of fruit, one of which I chose for play lunch.