Iris Ella FORD (1915-2007)
Family Stories > 2nd GENERATION
1. Nola Irene Warren
2. .... Iris Ella Ford
IRIS ELLA FORD
Born 1915, May 22 at home at Middlesex, London, UK
Marriage 1937, January 23 at St. Matthews’ Church, Prahran, Victoria
Death 2007, January 19 in Hamilton Base Hospital, Hamilton, Victoria
Cause of Death
Terminal Hypostasis
Pneumonia
Renal Failure
Congestive Cardiac Failure
Age at Death 91 years of age
Cremated 2007, January 25 at Mt. Gambier Crematorium, Mt. Gambier, Victoria
Early Years in England: (In Iris' own words)
I was born in London during the first air raid on London. We lived in 84 Westbury Avenue in Wood Green, London. I weighted 10 pounds at birth.
As it was during the war, London was very dangerous at the time. Dad used to tell us that when he would go off to work in the morning, the houses in the street (those that were left anyway) would be standing, and when he came home that night, many of the houses would have been blown up during the day.
So, when my sister, Rene who was born eighteen months after me, was due, Mum went back home to her mother’s place at Clifton, Bedfordshire. Mum also probably wanted someone to look after her while she was having the baby.
We lived in London until I was about 8 years old. I can’t remember the name of the school I went to in London, but I can remember leaving the house to go to school one day, and feeling my way along the side wall of the house (we lived on a corner) and then when I turned the corner, there was nothing to see but thick black fog. There used to be such terrible fogs that people often lost their way. Those fogs are very clear in my memory.
Memories of Clifton, Bedfordshire:
We used to go to Clifton to visit Granny West and one day my Mum said to Granny: “They’ve both got colds!” So Granny West got out the butter and sugar and mixed it and mashed it and then made Rene and I eat it all up.
I can also remember the smell of Granny’s face washers. She used to make us wash our faces with these washers and they used to have an unpleasant smell. It’s funny the little things I remember!
Auntie Clara and Uncle Harold were married in Clifton. Mum and Dad went to the wedding and I remember Mum making blackberry tarts and lemon curd tarts and I thought to myself: “Oh goodie! We’re going to get a feed here!” But we weren’t allowed. Rene and I and my cousin, Renee West were told to go and play in the school ground which was part of the church grounds. So we missed out!
Off to Australia:
When I was about 8 years old, Mum and Dad got the bright idea to come to Australia. We came by ship on the “SS Borda”. It took us six weeks to get to Australia, and Mum was sea-sick for the entire trip. Rene and I had a great time on the ship, except for the last ten days or so, when we both had chicken-pox.
When we arrived in Australia, we all stayed with my Uncle Percy and Auntie May. At the time, Uncle Percy was sick. I didn’t know at the time what was wrong with him, but I later found out that he had gone to a sanatorium and died of tuberculosis.
Argo Street Dairy:
Not long later, Mum and Dad decided to move out on our own, so we moved to a house at 56 Argo Street, South Yarra. It was a dairy. Dad used to go to work at Glover and Michell’s in High Street, St. Kilda and work as a brass finisher, while Mum ran the dairy. The milk for our dairy came from Bretherton’s Dairy in Charles Street, Prahran.
This is a recent photo of the Argo Street Dairy. And a newspaper report of the upcoming sale in 1986 of the former dairy.
Dad worked for about twelve months at Glover and Michell’s, but never got paid during all that time. As a result, they couldn’t afford to pay the rent, so we had to keep moving. Dad would tell us that every week his boss would promise his men: “You’ll get paid next week - you’ll get paid next week!” But he never did get paid.
I can remember Rene and I going down to the St. Kilda Town Hall with Dad and taking a big sugar-bag or hessian bag so that we could collect meat and vegetables. This was called “sustenance”. We also were given an order from Moran & Cato’s, the grocery shop, for hand-outs of groceries.
Mum worked at the Jam Factory:
After we moved from Argo Street, Mum got work at the jam factory in South Yarra. That was AJC - The Australian Jam Company. It is now a big shopping complex called “The Jam Factory”.
Mum used to tell us that her job was to peel the peaches and skim the lady bird bugs off the top of the jam while it was cooking! But while Mum was working there, she developed asthma very badly. Mum always used to say that it was the fur from the peaches that caused her asthma, but her mother, my Granny Launder, also suffered from asthma.
About 1937 : Iris, George, Sarah and Rene Ford outside their home in Windsor
School Years in Australia:
Rene and I started school in High Street, Prahran - near Union Street. Later, we went to the Punt Road State School. I can remember not long after we started at the Punt Road School, a young girl named Mena Griffiths was found murdered in the Fawkner Park, just behind our school.
One day, while we were at the Punt Road School, Rene came home at lunch time with whip marks around her legs where the teacher had hit her with a strap. Dad went down to the school and said to the teacher: “If you were a man, I’d do the same to you!”
From there, we went to Brighton Road State School, down at the back of the St. Kilda Town Hall. At the time, we lived in Peel Street, Windsor.
There was a depression in those days and Mum and Dad couldn’t get work. Sometimes, even though you had a job, you might never get paid for the work you did. I remember my Dad walking the streets putting junk mail in letter boxes, or any other sort of work he could get. Things were very tough!
Anyway, as a result, we moved around a lot during those years. I think we started off in Andrew Street, Windsor, then Peel Street, Windsor, then Argo Street, South Yarra, then High Street, St. Kilda, then Stewart Street, Windsor.
Oh, yes, I almost forgot, we also lived in another house at Waterloo Street, St. Kilda. It was there, Mum nearly burnt the house down!
The House Fire:
Mum and Dad had assisted Auntie Clara and Uncle Harold with their two children, Unis and Arthur, to come out to Australia. Anyway, one day, Mum, Auntie Clara, Uncle Harold, Unis and Arthur were all going down to the St. Kilda beach for the day. Rene and I were at school. Mum was a very fussy woman in the house, so before they went to the beach, she did the washing in the wood copper with the fire under it, put the washing on the line to dry, emptied the copper, and took the hot coals out from under the copper and put them in the garden. Then off to the beach they all went. But Mum must have put the hot coals too close to the house, because they started a fire while they were gone.
1925 Waterloo Street Back Yard - L to R - Rene Ford, George Dixie Ford, Iris Ella Ford holding Blackie the dog
The fire burnt the back part of our house and the heat was so great, that the kitchen clock stopped! It was terrible!
Rene and I, who were at school, were walking home that afternoon, when the woman in Morgan’s Pub who knew us (Dad used to frequent there), told us: “Your house is on fire!”
Rene and I just laughed in her face, but we had not gone too much further, when I said to Rene: “Perhaps it’s true! Perhaps there is a fire!”
So we ran the full length of High Street to get home. By the time we got there, the firemen and firetrucks had arrived. our poor dog, which had been in the back yard, must have been burned and was terrified, because when the firemen pushed the trellis gate at the side of the house down because it was half burnt, our poor dog escaped and we never saw him again.
We were always hungry:
Rene and I were going home from school one da and we saw a big carton fall off the back of a truck. Well, Rene and I ran like mad and grabbed the carton and took it home. We smuggled it into our room without anybody knowing. When we opened it, we found it was a big box of ice-cream cones. We thought it was Christmas, because we never got luxuries in those days. We hid it in the cupboard and used to have ice-cream cones for a snack whenever we wanted something to eat.
We were always hungry. I can remember that if Dad had an egg for breakfast, Rene and I would fight over who would get the top that Dad had cut off his egg!
We would have bread and dripping or bread and lard. We didn’t see any butter at all then.
We also lived in a house in Argyle Street, St. Kilda where Mum and Dad had a couple of rooms sharing the house with another lady who had plenty of money. We knew she had plenty of money because she used to buy grapes! So, everytime Rene and I went through her lounge room to go out the front door, we’d pinch a grape. But, whenever we stole a grape, we didn’t notice the little wet stalk we left behind, but the woman did and she “dobbed” us in and told Mum and Dad that we have been pinching her fruit!
Swimming Lessons:
Dad used to take us down to the Brooks’ Jetty, which was not far from Luna Park, for a paddle. I was about ten years old at the time and Dad got the bright idea that Rene and I should learn to swim. So, he took us right to the end of the jetty and just chucked us both in! And that’s how we learned to swim. We used to love it. We used to go down to Brooks’ Jetty every day during the holidays and take a tomato sandwich for our lunch.
Dad wanted an Aussie suntan:
When Dad came to Australia and he saw all the people on the beach getting a tan, he thought he’d do the same. So, he lay on the beach, cigarette in his mouth, or he floated on his back in the water and baked!
He never did get brown! But he did get sun-stroke!
Newly married:
After a while, George and I decided to move and look and so we looked for a house to buy. We found a house in Shower Street, Preston. It was selling for six hundred and fifty pounds, with twenty pounds deposit and one pound per week. There were three houses in the street for sale at the time. So we had to find the deposit! Well, we were short sixteen pounds! We had to borrow the sixteen pounds from my Dad.
It was a nice little house. In fact, it’s still standing. It’s been modernised now and it’s still lovely.
In order for us to could get the balance of the deposit money to buy that house, we have to sell George’s motor bike. No, it was the car - the Overland car!
We had a wood stove at the house in Shower Street - a big black iron wood stove. It was a beauty! I used to cook beautiful cakes in it. I’d make a beautiful rich fruit cake or Christmas cake and put it in the stove oven and go to bed. Then in the morning - it was cooked! It would cook while the fire went down overnight. Beautiful!
In those days, I used to get everything ready well ahead of time - the breakfast table set and everything ready for breakfast before I went to bed the night before. I would have the kettle filled up and on the store to save time in the morning. Now this went on for a long, long time. But one day, I lifted the lid on the kettle and saw that the top of the water was alive with ants! And we had been pouring them into our teapot every morning!
But one summer, the temperatures were very high, so, we decided to buy a gas stove. George had to cycle into town on his bike to get a gas stove.
When the old stove was pulled out to make room for the gas stove, we found a nest of ants under the stove - eggs and ants! It must have been because it was warm under the wood stove.
Working life:
I used to work at home making trousers for a tailor and I’d have a curtain strung up around the sewing machine because my daughter, Nola was at the crawling stage. I was frightened she would get her fingers caught in the sewing machine motor. That was in our house in Madeline Street. It was nerve racking working at home with a baby around my feet.
My boss, Mr Lucas, who had a place in Block Arcade in Melbourne, would ring up and say: “I don’t need Mr Scott’s trousers - I need Dr So-and-so’s trousers. Leave Mr Scott’s trousers and finish Dr So-and-so’s.”
And I hadn’t even started Dr So-and-so’s!
George would have to get on his bike and go down to the station at 11 o’clock at night with the parcel of trousers for the train parcel delivery. I remember, we had one hell of a row one night. George was so fed up! I threw a heavy ruler at him! It was getting on our nerves because Mr Lucas was messing us around and changing the orders. I was working until 11 o’clock at night, having started at 8 o’clock in the morning.
Then I got a job on the ManPower. I couldn’t leave my job there because it was regarded as essential work - making uniforms for the Air Force.
There was one place in South Melbourne that I did ‘out-door’ work for. I used to catch the tram with Nola in her pusher and go to South Melbourne and walk a mile from the tram to this big factory to collect piles and piles of plastic baby pants. There were layer upon layer of ‘glad-wrap’ like material, and if you weren’t careful, you’d be sewing two instead of one. I was quoted a price per dozen pairs to make these panties, but the rotten mongrels diddled me. They only paid me half of what they quoted. It was a thankless job.
I also worked for Alexander’s for a long while, but then they put me off because I didn’t have a license to work at home.
So, I went to the Trades Hall to get a license, but they asked me: “Do you have a husband?”
When I confessed that I was married, they wouldn’t give me a license.
“But”, I said, “I need the money!”
The asked: “What do you need the money for?”
My response: “I need a refrigerator!”
But all they said was: “You can live without a refrigerator!” So I couldn’t get a license to work at home.
When I got pregnant with Bernie, George and I were living with George’s parents at 97 Flinders Street, Thornbury. We needed some extra money so we could get out into a place of our own. It was very difficult for us living with George’s parents. So I got a job at an underwear place - I think it was called the Diamond Knitting Mills in Elizabeth Street, Melbourne.
They offered me a job on the button machine but I had to give my name as Miss Ford because if I had said I was married they wouldn’t have allowed me to work. Married women weren’t encouraged to work then. If the husband was working, the wife couldn’t get a job. So when my pregnancy started to show, I had to leave.
Iris' story is now continued in George Ernest Edward Warren's story ......