The Massey and Settlers Association Inc celebrated its 70th birthday in 1995.
The then Secretary / Treasurer Brian Lay of Massey was unsure how the association will celebrate but says it is likely to be low key.
“We prefer to work away behind the scenes,” he says. “Maybe we’ll have a huge bash when we turn 75.” Mr Lay has been with the association almost 20 years.
The group has about a dozen members concerned with local issues and who fundraise for community events.
The association acts as the area’s Residents and Ratepayers organisation, liaising with the council and community board.
It owns and administers the Lions Den (now known as simply the Den( it was an addition to the hall as a result of the efforts of the then Massey Lions Club), and the community hall in Massey which is used by groups such as the Citizens Advice Bureau, the Red Hills Kindergarten, an indoor bowling club, private and club social functions.
The Massey Community Board also holds its monthly meetings at the hall.
“We spend a lot of time keeping it in order so the community has a great facility to use,” says Mr Lay.
He is looking for old photos of the Lions Den Hall and wants to contact people involved with the association to help with the celebrations. Phone 833-8186.
The association holds its annual meeting at the Lions on July 6
The following article was likely written for the occassion of the 70th birthday of the Association by B Luckens
Written, set up and printed by the above at 1 Luckens Road, West Harbour, 29 July 1995
“Imagine, if you can, a moderate-sized school room, with the ceiling some 4 metres (13 feet) above the floor. On the east side are 3 or 4 windows of above-average height, with no blinds or curtains. The ceiling and walls are ‘match lined’, that is, tongued and grooved timber with bevelled joints, not as t
hick as the flooring. There are two petrol fueled mantle lamps hanging from the ceiling. There is a small, upright cast iron stove, about a foot square and two feet high in one corner, the only virtue being that the 4-inch stove pipe was exposed entirely all the way to the ceiling .
It is dark, and two men with an electric torch, the only sign of electricity, enter the room, drag a school desk, (a very solid piece of furniture by present standards) under one of the lamps, un-hook it, and light it, a lengthy process of filling with petrol, (no additives then, pure white spirit, costly these days), pumping the tank to pressurise the fuel, hold 2 or 3 matches or a methelated spirit torch under the ‘generator’ for perhaps 10-15 seconds, turn fuel on, and the mantle glows, a gentle hiss sounding, and a 300 candle power light banishes the
darkness.
The room is entered occasionally, and perhaps 8 or 10 people are seated. There are two at the teachers’ table, one of them rises- “Good evening all, (rarely ladies and gentlemen, as ladies did not often attend),
I NOW DECLARE THE MEETING OPEN! ”
Only rarely was the title of the Association mentioned, such gatherings were not wont to waste time on formalities, especially if it was a winter night, for the stove was never lit, for fuel was costly, COAL!
MASSEY SETTLERS’ ASSOCIATION.
I have volunteered to give some account of my recollections from the days of yore when I took an active part in the above named INCORPORATED SOCIETY. For the most part, this period was from 1932 to 1936. I was aware of it’s formation in 1925, when, near the end of that year I had my 11th birthday. (For the record, I had my 80th birthday on 30/11/95. If I remember rightly, my father had the rather grandiose title of ‘President’, and Colin Macdonald was the secretary.
It goes without saying that I cannot recollect all the material tucked away in my ‘storage system’, and I would be obliged if readers of this preliminary account would ask any questions that come to their minds, as this sometimes stirs further answers, even if not directly answering the question. This is more likely to be in the geographical context rather than the personal, for I have never been good at remembering people.
First, the school where the meetings were held, and at which I attended as a pupil during the years 1925, 1926, 1927 in which year I attained my ‘Proficiency Examination’, which entitled me to 2 years only of secondary education. Few boys went to secondary school in those days, and even fewer girls, though I suspect that more obtained the Proficiency Certificate. You could leave school at 14, or earlier if Proficiency was gained.
The Massey-Birdwood school was a one roomed building with a porch which was really part of the single room, though partitioned to the roof. There was no ceiling as such, the roof being sarked under the iron.
The building was not quite on the summit of the hill, and there was a good outlook down over the harbour toward the city. A single
line of Maritime pines (P.pinaster) ran from the corner of the Red Hills Road, opposite where the Archery Club is now sited, past the school about 8m to the west, and on down toward where the High School now is. Another ran at right-angles toward the present Hall, and rather close to the school. This line of trees I shall call the ‘north’ hedge, and the other one the ‘west’ hedge. Pineaster looses its lower branches at an early age, so it was bitterly draughty from the west and south. The school committee erected a high 4 wire fence under the west hedge, and the larger boys cut manuka from the gulley across the road, (toward the city) and weave this in the fence. It made a big difference to the climate, on that exposed knob.
The area between the school and the west hedge was sealed, and a shelter shed was built thereon. To the south of the school were the two latrines, a ‘girls’ and a ‘boys’. The word ‘toilet’ was uncommon in those days, and a ‘W.C.’ was unheard of outside the city. (I was the first person on my road to install one and a septic tank, a device about which there was much controversy at that time, 1943). Of course the latrines were called ‘Dunnies’, without any other epithet, unless it was your job to empty them. This was done weekly by two senior boys, for which we each received 7/6 per term, a magnificent sum in our view, though digging the holes in the hard summer clay was no sinecure. My Father treated the word ‘toilet’ with scorn, pointing out that it was the French word for ‘to wash’, and he was pretty sure that the French were too earthy to describe a latrine by THAT word. There was so little water available, (rain water from the roof), that we did not even rinse the cans, but threw in a handful of quicklime. (Air slaked burnt limestone)
The first year that I attended this school, I walked, half of it overland. My home was on Lawsons Creek, on a bench just above where the sewer cum-footbridge crosses it now. My route to school was not far off the present Harbourview Crescent, thence across the creek where Moire road crosses it, and across a poorly grassed paddock below where Lendich’s now have their contracting business, then up through an orchard planted by J.H. Colwill, and on to Royal Road near where the Royal Road School now exists. Royal Road was then innocent of any gravel, as was the Red Hill Road beyond the corner where the Hall now is. The Old North Road, (now called Don Buck Road, which was then rightly applied to a short road from where the Birdwood Road ends, and down to the salt water. This was where Don Buck had his famous ‘Camp’) was also quite free of any sign of metal, and indeed was innocent of even cart tracks.
Now the reason for all this preamble (of how I go to school) is because the school grounds had a fenced horse paddock, which had not been used until my second year at this school. Then my brother and sister attended this school, and we rode in a horse and light cart, so the horse paddock was needed. Indeed, it was the only time that it ever was, as far as
I can recollect.
To return to the school, which was, I am fairly sure, was where the original meeting of the Association was held, and for many years thereafter. When I started at this school at the beginning of 1926, the ‘Dominie’ (as my father called the headmaster) was Robert Strong, who was, I believe, the first incumbent. That was for a month or two, then we had a reliever, whose name now eludes be. She was a mild martinet, who took some satisfaction in failing me in spelling on a word which she pronounced ‘cumbit’. Combat, which like London and constable are usually pronounced with the (Ot as a ‘U’. It is often, (or was) pronounced as a u when used as a noun, though as a verb, ‘To combat’ (an enemy) with the o sound.
Before the end of the year we were blessed with a teacher who had a more profound influence on my youth than any other. Her name was Helen Chalmers, a spinster of middle age who had come from Mokai, where she had been for several years. Mokai was at the end of the T. T. T, a private railway from Putaruru, down over the Waikato river, then up among the hills toward Taupo. We were regaled with many stories about the veritable ‘journey’ needed to reach Mokai, a milling town, and that T. T. T. was locally known as ‘ Terrible Twisted Tramway’, as befitted a bush tramway. In reality, the ‘Taupo Totara Timber’ Coy. Mokai is now nothing more than several derelict houses, (occupied) heaps of rotting sawdust, all that remains of a large sawmill and a thriving village.
However, I had better not dwell too much on the joys and toils that we experienced under her care, (for she did care), though there is one feature that she left in that schoolroom that lasted for many years. As the school was called ‘Massey-Birdwood’ she thought it would be a good idea to have the portraits of those illustrious gentlemen on the wall behind her desk. I do not know who she wrote to for the Massey picture, for he had died in May the year before the time she arrived. However, she duly received her request, in a month or two, though the Birdwood picture took a deal longer. There was no Airmail then, and Birdwood was a retired (Major-General, I think) living in England. We were told of the problems associated with finding his address, and in due course we received a picture about the same size as its co-name. The school no longer has that name, a circumstance about which I feel a trifle sad.
Perhaps I should now mention my recollections of the names on the Incorporation application. Most are fairly sketchy, for, as mentioned earlier, I am not a ‘people’ person, and in any case, I am wary about personal anecdotes, for while, as far as I know, all are now at rest, it is not always easy to avoid affront completely, perhaps to descendants. There is one story for which I ask indulgence, and as the principal was well known as ‘A character’, said relatives are more likely to chuckle than cry foul.
The application was required to be signed, in the presence of a J.P. (C.S.W. Arnold, who lived opposite the Hobsonville school). The first name is an extra, and obviously fitted in after the form was filled with the required 15 signatures. The name, J.C. Thomas, I have no memory of at all.
The first name signed was that of C. Macdonald, farm manager, Massey. He was a farmer from Southland, who had sold out there during the boom years just after the First World War. He was a member of the Theosophical Society,said society having bought 80 acres of land on the main road where the P.S.S. establishment is now situated, among other subdivisions. Macdonald was an experienced farmer, and the Society appointed him as manager. They built a small cottage, which was occupied by Macdonald, (a batchelor), and a bungalow which was occupied by various members of the Theosophical Society, including one named Younghusband, who was connected to the illustrious Englishman who organised an attempt on Everest. While there, or perhaps because of his of interest in Buddhism, from which some of the tennents of Theosophy derived, he was able to study the people of Nepal. I believe he was the first Englishman to visit Lhasa. All this happened before I was 10 years old, so, while my parents talked a lot about Younghusband with their close friend,(Macdonald), I do not remember much detail. Macdonald was always ‘Mac’ to my parents, though his first name was Colin.
I understand that my father and Colin Macdonald were the main instigators of the Settlers Association, though there may well have been others as equally keen on the idea. For some years Macdonald ran sheep on the holding, and here it was that I first experienced the ‘joys’ of paring rotten feet on said animals and dousing them in bluestone (Copper sulphate) solution. He also taught me how to make very effective flax whips, with as good a crack as one could wish for. It was from this skill that I learned that rope, (or any thread) was made by twisting the strands the opposite way to the way said strands were ‘laid’ alongside each other. I may mention also that ‘flax’, a name that Cook bestowed, played quite an important part in our lives in those days.
The Theosophical Society, as with many semi religious and philosiphical groups of the times, (then in their heyday) lost members, and therefore income, and the farm became a lost cause. Macdonald bought the place from them, and thereafter ran it on his own. He still maintained his beliefs in the society, and remained a vegetarian for as long as I knew him, though he never discussed them. In 1933 he went in for milking cows, and my father built his milking shed, which still stands, the unpainted roof a credit to the galvanising ability of the firm, (Lysaghts) who made the iron. He had also established an orange orchard, and also a tree tomato orchard, for which my mother raised the plants, then the old yellow skinned variety, less acid than the later red variety. This eventually grew to seven acres, all red by then. A visitor from the U.S. with much experience in horticulture in that country, told him that he knew of no plantation more than a quarter of that size ‘back home’ A forerunner in scale to the 1950’s Kiwifruit industry, a fruit our family was enjoying in the middle 1920’s. Of course, we called the brown furry fruit ‘Chinese Gooseberries’, and as well, tree tomatoes are now ‘Tamarillos”.
Colin Macdonald had a large effect on my early working life. I worked for him milking cows for three years, and later day work in his orchards. Later still, after the war, I built a sawmill to start milling the 10 acres of pine trees and eucalypts he had planted as shelter. A few of both are still standing.
The three years spent at Macdonald’s milking cows were certainly the longest hours I have ever worked. He was not familiar with cows, and they were a pampered lot. There were only about 30 of them, yet we rose at 4 a.m., Sundays as well, and had breakfast a bit after 7. I was usually at work in the fields by around 8 a.m.. No smokos except at haymaking, and we had dinner around 5 p.m. Then the cows till 8, until they were being dried off, when we would finish earlier. I sometimes would ride my bike into the city at that season, and go to the pictures in Karangahape road, just leaving my bike on a side street, unlocked. One night, going down what is now Triangle Road, then a zig zag up through orchards on the north side, with a right angled turn opposite the Chemist’s (in the present Massey Shopping Centre). Near the bottom, I saw too late, a thick bit of teatree firewood square across the side I was on. Bang, one badly dented front wheel, though I did not fall off. Metal road, then. I had to half carry the bike back home, and no outings for a week or three and having to pay for a new wheel. Oh yes, the bike had a good Bosch electric headlight, though its range was not sufficient for such objects unless at much slower speeds. Remember, I had to go right round through Henderson and new Lynn in those days, yet I usually managed to get to the pictures well before the main show. I marvel at my energy, now, 60 years later.
We must have started the cows a bit earlier on the nights of the Settlers’ Association meetings, even though the starting time was 8 p.m. Most of the members walked. I was usually an observer, sometimes having a ‘say’. One night I gave a talk on an armament dealer. Those were the days, (Early 30’s) when Douglas Credit was in much vogue, with a member,
Colonel Rushworth, (Bay of Islands) in Parliament. Colin Macdonald was an ardent convert to the theories of Major Douglas, and the ever quoted “A plus B theorem”, which had to do with the solving of that perennial problem of the Great Depression, that was that there were plenty of goods in the shops, a lot of unemployed, but no money. Instead of creating, (a la present Reserve Bank) credit, the Govt. cut all public servants, including teachers salaries by 10%. This only made matters worse. Yet we have the present Right Wing section still advocating this ploy. To add a certain piquancy to the situation, Douglas was unashamedly Anti Semetic, just as Hitler was introducing the same idea into Europe. The Jews controlled the money system of the world, so get rid of them! I could not persuade anyone that if the Jews did have such power, then it would be likely that they would like to see the world prosper, not stagnate. Colin Macdonald himself found that idea of a “Jewish Plot” rather odd, for one of best friends was his lawyer, a Jew.
Anyway, Macdonald was a good reader, and had bought a book on an armament trader, which I found quite horrifying to read, and he suggested that I give a talk on the book. I do not recollect that it caused more than passing interest!
You will be glad to hear that I am unable to expatiate on the remaining signatories to the same length, but then I did not work for any of them. I doubt that any had employees.
Signatories 2 and 3 are not identifiable by me, as well as no. 10, also a Bennet. Yes, there were two Bennet houses, one on Royal Road, with two children, Arthur and Molly attending the school with me, and another who was a farmer cum large van owner who made daily trips to the city taking produce into the city markets, and bringing goods back. He was still operating in the 40’s, I can remember him taking flowers in for me, and bringing manure and hardware back. This man lived on the farm opposite the P.C.L., with the City Library now in one corner.
Number 4. Harriet Jane Spargo must have been a widow, for I do not remember her husband. She had 4 children, Reg, Christine, Ethel, and Owen, in descending ages. Their farm was On Royal Road. Owen was at the school with me,
Number 5 was my father, who has already taken up a line or two.
Number 6. W.G. Waugh, a returned man. The Birdwood was a Returned Soldiers Settlement Scheme, a rather pitiful story. There were two Waugh girls, 3 or 4 years younger than I.
Number 7. C. Ernst. A farmer with a small farm on the Red Hills Road, on the warm side of the road a bit past the Birdwood Road turnoff. I only have a vague memory of a boy,
Owen, I think. I only saw the man occasionally.
Number 8 and 12. This presents a puzzle. I knew a Jim Orrock, who had a son Dermie. (Dermot?) They lived next to C. Ernst, on the Red Hills Road. But who is Jas. Orrock? (Number 12) The writing is not dis-similar, though anything but identical. However, the one I knew well was a character and a half, as they said in those days, colourful to boot. The farm of Macdonald met at the back boundary with that of Orrock, and the two worked together in certain areas. Jimmy, as he was known by all, used to borrow Macdonald’s ‘horse powered’ hay baler. The horse walked round and round, actuating the ram on the baler, stepping over the connecting rod when the tension was off the ram, so that the horse was not ‘off balance’ during the stepping over. It was the only machine of the kind I have ever seen, though I heard about others at the time. Jimmy brought his grey (white!) mare overto do the pulling, and worked the baler for the Macdonald hay.
In return, Jimmy took the bailer over to his farm to do his hay, though we did not assist him, so he must have had other help .1 did the wiring of the bales. In those days, bales were tied with wire. Twine tying did not come in until automatic balers were invented. Wiring the bales with a horse baler was easy work, for the ram only made 2 pushes per circle of the horse. Each bale was separated by a wooden board about 12 by 18 inches in size. It had 2 slots each side. The wires were passed from the wirer’s side, then by leaning over the case surrounding the bale, they could be passed back through the next board, then passed through a loop on the end of the wire and twisted around itself. The man feeding the hay put a board in each time he heard a bell, struck by the passage of the last board, so that the bales were pretty much of the same length. The wire was bought in bundles of wires, black, soft wire, with a loop, machine twisted on one end. The wirer also stacked the bales to be carted into a shed. The bales in those days were often twice the weight of modern bales, which are handled by the twine tying them. In my time, the handlers used bag hooks, and if the hay was a bit on the damp side, were quite a load. The heaps were built up stair- wise, to attain a good height.
The purpose of this preamble is to explain the little drama one year, the last of my stay at Macdonald’s. The BOSS, as his Housekeeper and I called him, usually had a good stock of baling wire, ( often used for all sorts of repairs, because of its softness), and Jimmy was wont to avail himself of this fact, and on the year in question he had not cut his hay when he took the baler away. There was only a few lengths of wire left on the machine when we had finished, and the Boss and I worked out a way to hide the full bundle stored in the barn. Jimmy thought he had noticed it too, for he was soon looking for it. I had nipped up to the barn while the others were preparing to shift the baler. Wiki, as Jimmy called his old grey mare was quite able to pull it.
At the barn, I had a quick look around, when I spied a roll of old linoleum resting on a shelf. I pushed the bundle of wire, (about 6 feet long into the roll and stuffed an old sugar bag in the end almost out of sight. Arrived at the barn, Jimmy spent 5 minutes looking for the wire, and the Boss and I said that we had not seen any about. Jimmy had time to order another lot.
The son, Dermie, was one of the strongest men I have ever met. A few years later, when I was at our Waitakere farm, Dermie had a large ‘WHITE’ truck, one of the first I had seen with dual tyres on the rear wheels. Such trucks were not as good off the road as the old single tyred jobs, as the load was only half per square inch on the ground, so losing traction. Anyway, he arrived at our farm with 2 tons of Superphosphate for us. He had to stop about 20 metres from our shed, as it was a little greasy, and he dared not come any closer, slightly downhill. I was amazed to see him pick up a bag under each arm and actually trot to the shed. You see, the bags weighed 184 pounds each. (83.6 Kilos) Equivalent to carrying a 13 stone man under each arm! Stacking the heaviest hay bales would have been a breeze to Dermie. I can see him yet, in my mind’s eye each time I remember the feat.
Signature no. 9. E Gregory, Farmer. Lived further up the Red Hills Road, near the top of the hill (red!) I recollect him not, though doubtless I saw him at meetings. He had a son, Don, a gangling lad about 3 years my junior.
Signature 11. W.W. Bridgford. He had a farm next to Macdonald, on the north side, and reaching to just past where the main road was joined by the Hobsonville Road.
No. 12, explained (?) in Number 8.
No. 13. G.A. Baker, Farmer, Birdwood Estate, Henderson. I have absolutely no memory of this person, though I vaguely remember the term ‘Birdwood Estate’ as being a name indicating the Soldier Settlement. Perhaps someone else can help.
No.14. R. Mc Keown, Birdwood, Farmer. He lived down the present Don Buck Road, a little past where the High School now stands. I cannot remember ever meeting him, though he had two children at the school, Rita, a tallish quiet girl in the junior school. (primers, we called them in them thar days) and a younger brother, Noel.
No. 15, Lucy S. Luckens, my mother, who was killed in a fall from a horse five years after signing this application. I do not recall that she ever attended a meeting, except the first.
C.S.W.Arnold, J.P., Farmer, L.Col., retired, Hobsonville. A comparative newcomer to Hobsonville, who liked to be known by his Army rank. He did not carry a swagger cane, though he gave the impression that he did. He had the old Sexton Farm opposite the Hobsonville School, latterly owned by the Winters Brothers. Now of course, all built over.
I hesitate to describe the changes since those days, they are all too obvious. Suffice to say, many of the roads were clay, and there were many large patches of scrub.
Names of signatories on the application for incorporation for the Massey/Birdwood Residents’ Association:
- C. Thomas, builder, Massey
- Macdonald, farm manager, Massey
Mary Bennett, married, Massey
Elizabeth Bennett, married
Harriet Jane Spargo, married
- E. Lukens, builder, Hobsonville
- G. Waugh, farmer, Birdwood
- Ernst, married, Massey
- Orrock, farmer, Massey
- Gregory, farmer, Massey
- G. Bennet, farmer, Massey
- W. Bridgford, farmer, Massey
Jas Orrock, farmer, Massey
- A. Baker, farmer, Birdwood Estate, Henderson
- McKeown, farmer, Birdwood
Lucy S. Luckens, Hobsonville
C. S. W. Arnold J.P. Farmer, Hobsonville ………..Retired.