Angela’s wedding:
I don’t know when this was, but it may have been January 1980. Mum and Dad and I were invited to Angela Jeffreys wedding in Sydney. For what ever reason, I had arrived early and was staying in Pitt St. in the centre of the city. Angela had arranged the accommodation for all the guests and Mum and Dad were booked into a motel not far from where the wedding was to be held in Lane Cove – which you may know is a very decent part of town. The wedding must have gone well but I can’t say I remember it, however, I do remember this story very well which occurred the next day. I had arranged to rendezvous with Mum and Dad at their motel and we were to take a trip into Sydney to look at some of the sights.
Mum greeted me at the motel and as I walked inside I noticed Dad stretched out on the bed. He was a picture of tranquillity – pillows puffed up behind his head. He had that cheeky, rye smile on his face and was reading “O’Malley – the man they couldn’t break” This was of course was the story of O’Malley whom I think was the longest serving prisoner at Pentridge Goal. “How are you son?” Dad cheerfully asked. “Yeah – good”. After a few more pleasantries I said. “Hey, this motel is pretty posh – how much are you fawking out?” Dad paused and said. “Well, I don’t know, son, but here’s a $100, go down to the receptionist and pay for the first night” “Yeah, no worries – I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
I was quite shocked when I handed over the money – she took the whole $100 and not a skerrick of change came back. That was a lot of money 25 years ago. I thought- “Dad’s not going to like this.” On arriving back at the room I blurted out. “Do you know how much a night it is here? - $100” Dad immediately, slunk back in the pillows – “those thieving shits!” was his stunned reply. “C’mon, pack up, we can’t stay here.” Dad’s face had turned to a reddish complexion and he was more than a little agitated as he made plans to leave the room as soon as possible. I tried to put a positive spin on the situation and piped up. “Hey, come into Sydney and stay at my hotel. It’s only $15 a night and that includes breakfast. Ah,..... its really close to everything too.” This seemed to please Dad and we couldn’t wait to get out of the area.
We caught the double decker train into Sydney and it wasn’t long before we were hauling our suitcases up Pitt St. As we neared ‘my’ hotel Mum blurted out in a mournful, despairing voice: “Oh, Brian – not the Salvation Army!” I was crestfallen and tried desperately to convince her that it was really good inside. Well I did concede that they do have communal bathrooms – but there’re real clean and they give you a ‘great’ breakfast.
We trudged up the stairs of the Salvo’s Palace and Mum walked a few steps behind. After Mum got over the shock, she agreed that the rooms were quite good for $15, but she didn’t want anyone to see her there or to let on where we were staying.
Later, on that afternoon we made our way to the Sydney Opera House. Mum and I were eager to go inside but Dad decided it would be pretty boring and preferred to stay in the warm sun outside. After our guided tour, we squinted as we met the sun again and saw Dad surrounded by about half a dozen people. He was telling stories or jokes like he usually did.
The next day we ran into Jack and Maureen Giles. They had also come up for the wedding. “Well, how are you enjoying Sydney, Jack?” Dad happily asked. “Yeah, good Danny, we’re got a great Hotel in Pitt St.” It wasn’t long before Dad had to confess that we were also staying in Pitt St. and to Mums terrible embarrassment the truth came out that it was the ‘Salvos Palace.’ Maureen tried to make her feel better. “Well, we couldn’t afford to stay in Lane Cove either and we had breakfast in our hotel room this morning. We even had to resort to having our corn flakes in a cup.” I don’t know if this consoled Mum or not, but she did agree that the Salvos breakfast was ‘great’ but I think it was the first and last time that she crossed their threshold.
