Lizbeth

My family moved to Gawler in 1954 when I was 9 years old. I was enthralled then with the old buildings, the town's history and the old houses we lived in. I attended Gawler Primary School during which time I had the magical experiences of jumping the South Para behind the showgrounds, bouncing across the swing bridge, splashing through the ford on my bike - such childhood memories - and one year of Gawler High School (Lyndoch Rd). They were innocent days of freedom to roam laneways of crumbling walls where old trees cast shadows and their ripe fruit; of the nearby countryside where seasonal creeks ran and paddocks lured us for mushrooms. We moved to a new Melbourne suburb five years later. Then water tanks or deep brick lined wells with brass hand pumps, mysterious cellars, the smell of hot summer ripening fruit, an actual rail car (a Buick?) heading to the Barossa on the rail line or the train to Adelaide at Xmas when Santa boarded and gave gifts to each child. Will future generations ever know the joy of my experiences?