O'Connor street, Chippendale
Image © City of Sydney Archives, Demolition books 1906-1949, NSCA CRS 51/1625
I loved the look on this woman’s face as soon as I saw the photograph: challenging, distrustful. Who is this stranger taking photographs of her home without so much as a by-your-leave? The image, held by The City of Sydney Archives, was taken in about 1934 on O’Connor street in Chippendale, and amazingly, although almost every other house in the neighbouring streets disappeared under the Carlton Brewery behemoth (now the Central Park apartment complex on Broadway), this little row of six terraces survives, nestled in between now-gentrified factories and looming apartment buildings.
The couple who occupied this house between 1933 and the early 1950s were Claude Alfred Asbury, and his wife Gladys Helena nee Brennan. Claude had previously married a young woman called Essie Lower-Hill in 1918, but their marriage was short and tragic – in 1919, Essie gave birth to a son, Roy, before she passed away on the 21st of June. When young Roy died at the Sydney Hospital aged 8, his death notice was posted by his mother’s parents, and his funeral was held at his father’s parents’ home in Waverley, suggesting his grandparents had played a substantial role in rearing him after his mother’s death.
Claude, a carpenter by trade, married Gladys in 1920, and they lived in at least one other home on O’Connor street in the 1920s before moving into number 73. The Asburys appear to be almost invisible in official records; they appear on electoral rolls, and several members of the family enlisted for military service, but other details of their life are virtually non-existent: no births, no deaths, no marriages. Many of the more modern records are still restricted, so I’m often looking for records which are still closed, and the depth of my research for this blog doesn’t extend to applying for access. All that I have been able to find are glimpses: a funeral notice or two, sealed service records, a run in with the law.
Two young men, Keith Alfred Aloysius (b.1924 in Sydney), and Ronald Alfred (b.1926 in Chippendale), enlisted in the Australian Army During World War II, and listed a Gladys Asbury as their next of kin. An Alfred Ernest Asbury, born in 1899 in South Melbourne like Claude, also enlisted, and listed a Gladys as his next of kin. It’s probable that this Alfred was Claude’s brother, although due to his age he probably served as a reservist at home. Confusingly this Alfred Ernest also appears to have a wife called Gladys, as well as a son called Ken. Claude’s father was also called Alfred, and both boys’ names contain Alfred as well, but it was a very common name. After Ronald’s return from service he became a member of the New South Wales Fire Brigade, where he worked for several years.
As adults, the children remained close to their parents: a glass cutter called Stanley John Dominic Asbury and his wife, Mary Philomena, lived with Claude and Gladys for several years, as did a Cecil Asbury for a short while, although I’m not sure of their relationships to the couple. Almost over the back fence on Little Queen street a Mrs J Asbury is mentioned as the neighbour of a warehouse which caught fire in 1952, and records show that Ronald was indeed married to a June Margaret, living at 8 Queen street in the 1950s. Keith disappears from the searchable records, and may have died in combat. Due to the lack of available records it’s also very hard to tell if they had any daughters – none are mentioned anywhere, most notably in funeral announcements for the family, suggesting no living female children.
In 1967, son Ronald found himself in some very serious trouble: having moved to Ryde with June sometime after his parent’s death, he was working as a security guard at a cultivated pine plantation in Caringbah. A young couple, David Beechcroft-Kay and Sandra Ann Collins, entered the forest after dark to, in their own words, “look at pine trees” (ahem). Ronald challenged them, and for reasons unknown proceeded to open fire on them, peppering them with pellets. Both suffered multiple injuries, including a punctured lung for Sandra, and several pellets lodged near her heart. David sustained several pellet wounds to the buttocks. Ronald was charged with two counts of malicious wounding. Post war mental health problems were not recognised or adequately managed in this era, and many veterans suffered from post-traumatic stress disorder. While it’s impossible to tell, this feels like an overreaction possibly brought on by untreated PTSD. So far I have found no information on the long-term consequences for Ronald, however his good record was noted, and he was granted bail.
Gladys died in Sydney in 1958, Claude in Hornsby in 1961. Their (probable) sons Stanley died in 1986, and Ronald in 1993. The family strike me as very private, and not without their problems (like any family). I’m reasonably sure that the woman in the photograph is Gladys, who would have been about 34 when it was taken. She appears visibly agitated by the presence of the photographer outside her home, and the veranda is covered with makeshift shade cloths, suggesting a desire to shield their modest lives from public view. We’ll never know if the photographer managed to placate her, or whether she continued to fume over this apparent invasion of her little corner of Sydney.
