Sunday 10 May 2020

Frederick McKinlay: a lifetime of service to teaching


52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks
Week 19 | Service
  
Frederick McKinlay, circa 1890s

This week’s theme makes me think of the public service, an over-arching term used to describe employment in the government sector, including public schools, and one in which many of my family have worked.

My great-grandfather was the first of our McKinlay family to be born in Australia and was the first in what has become a long line of teachers in the family.  His entire working life, starting at age 13 years, was spent in the service of the Queensland Education Department; a teaching career that spanned over 40 years.

Our teachers have been under an enormous amount of pressure in recent months, which makes it even more fitting that this week I shine a light on the amazing work they do, through the story of Frederick McKinlay.


Frederick McKinlay, born 24 July 1879 in Rockhampton, was a first-generation Australian.  His father John McKinlay was a ship’s engineer from Scotland and his mother Margaret Ann Stewart a domestic servant from Ireland.  Purportedly, both arrived in Australia on the same ship, the Scottish Bard, in 1868 (although evidence of John’s arrival has not been found to date). John and Margaret married in Rockhampton in 1878 (23 September).

The couple moved between Rockhampton and the seaside town of Emu Park for many years. The first evidence of Fred’s own education is his admission to Rockhampton Primary School at the age of 8 years and 3 months in 1887.  The following year, his father was working at the Tranganbar Gold Mine where John secured the services of a retired school master purchased a large tent for use as a makeshift school for the children at the mine.  From there the family went back to Emu Park, where Margaret ran a boarding house and Fred and his siblings continued their education at Emu Park School. 

In 1893, at the age of 13 years, Fred began his teaching career, when he was admitted by the Education Department as a pupil teacher at the Emu Park State School. The pupil-teacher system was essentially an apprenticeship scheme, with training provided on the job in schools by the head teacher of the school.  Fred trained under the supervision of Benjamin Long and qualified as a teacher on 31 December 1897.

During the early years of his career, Fred underwent regular observation by the District Inspector.   The Inspectors’ comments are brief and recorded in cramped hand-writing in Fred’s teaching record but he is generally described as a fair classroom teacher, who kept good order in the classroom, was intelligent and industrious and achieved satisfactory results.  Although, one inspector was less impressed, noting that Fred had fair disciplinary powers of the repressive order, does work in a vigorous but superficial way, and very unwilling to do work outside specified school hours.  This last report was by District Inspector Brown who features in another chapter in the life of Fred in a rather negative way so one wonders whether DI Brown was an inherently critical man or just had something against Fred. But I digress.  Newspaper reports and reminiscences of former students suggest that he was a successful, valued and kindly teacher with a genuine appreciation of his students and commitment to their education.

Fred was steadily promoted during the early years of his career, rising through the various levels to Head Teacher by 1908.    Over the forty years of his career, Fred taught at a dozen  schools around Central Queensland and was Head Teacher at four of these:  Emu Park, Georgetown, Rockhampton Central (Boys), Leichardt Ward, Mt Chalmers, Stanwell, Marmor, Brandon, Hamilton Creek, Mt Morgan Boys School, Maryborough Central, and Albert State School (Maryborough).

Francia Dow and Frederick McKinlay
Wedding portrait, January 1908
When Fred was transferred from Leichardt Ward School to Mount Chalmers Provisional School at the end of 1907, Head Master Benjamin Long expressed sorrow that the school was losing Fred, who had been with them almost since the opening of the school and felt they could not allow him to go without a small memento of their esteem.  Mr. Long indicated that Fred would be very much missed as he had been a thoroughly good teacher, a most loyal assistant, and always ready to help in all those ‘hundred and one things’ a teacher had to do out of school.  He wished Fred well with the transfer and his impending marriage to Francia Dow (also a teacher) and hoped the important step he was taking would lead to the further advancement of his career.  He felt that Leichardt Ward’s loss was Mount Chalmers gain.  Fred was presented with gifts from the teachers and children – a silver teapot and biscuit barrel.  Fred expressed his sincere thanks for the beautiful presents and to Mr. Long for his kind words, attributing ‘most of his success in life’ to Mr Long, by whom he had been taught both as a student and as a trainee teacher. 

Mt Chalmers was his first posting as a Head Teacher.  The prior Head Teacher was his new wife (who was required to resign from teaching when she married) which must have been an interesting transition.  Fred spent just one year at Mt Chalmers, but was remembered warmly by one student 75 years later.  Violet Armstrong recalls the day when she was eight years old and some mineworkers came to the school and took Fred outside to talk to him.  Upon returning to the classroom, Fred said, “Lillie, Darry and Violet, your mother wants you at home as there has been an accident at the mine”.   He then put on his trademark white helmet, took the children by the hands and led them out to collect their hats and bags from where they hung on the veranda.  He accompanied the children on their walk through the scrub and it was only as they neared their home that he informed them that their father had been killed.  Hearing this news, Violet recalls that she panicked and fled into the bushland but years later appreciated the kindness of Mr McKinlay walking her and her siblings home.

Stanwell State School was bounded by a creek, which regularly flooded in heavy rains, rendering the children unable to cross and attend school.  Rather than have the children miss school, Fred purchased a boat at his own expense and rowed the children across the creek each morning and afternoon.   Fred’s ferrying services rapidly expanded to the general public and in representations to the Fitzroy Shire Council for the construction of a footbridge across the creek, he described  having made over 100 trips across the creek to oblige dairymen, travellers and stockmen, even carrying a cyclist and his motorcycle on one occasion. 

In his roles as Head Teacher, Fred regularly advocated for improvements to the school facilities for the benefit of teachers and students alike.  While at Stanwell School, another significant infrastructure problem was that of the latrines, which apparently filled with water during heavy rains and emitted a ‘most awful stench’.  In correspondence to the Department, he describes having to ‘rush from the ‘office’ with disarranged garments (fortunately ‘twas dark) the stench was so bad.  Mrs McKinlay is quite unable to use the ‘office’ and has to make arrangements neither convenient nor agreeable’.  He also expressed concern that these conditions were making children ill and cited the genuine risk of typhoid.  At Marmor School, he was successful in efforts to have a new school building erected and improvements made to the teacher’s residence.

As Head Teacher Fred was also responsible for facilitating the many extra-curricular activities of these small rural schools.  At Stanwell School many successful Arbour Day events were held, raising money through Sports Days and dances. At Hamilton Creek school the end of the school year was regularly celebrated with large picnics.  Upon his move south to schools in the Maryborough District, he was involved with various sporting bodies, especially in swimming carnivals and as secretary of the combined District State School Sports Association.

The school buildings in rural schools were regularly used by community groups such as the Ambulance Brigade and Progress Association for social and civic activities.  This required Fred to write tedious memos to the Department seeking permission each and every time a community group requested use of the facilities.   

Fred was also active in professional networks and held several committee roles with the Teachers’ Association (Mount Morgan and Dawson).  A particularly vexed topic was homework, which Fred asserted was a nuisance for teachers but argued was invaluable to those children who regularly requested it but did not believe it needed to be mandatory and advocated for an approach that gave students some involvement in the choice of task.   His professional activities also involved him supervising pupil teachers.

Fred also had an interest in what we now call ‘adult education’ or ‘lifelong learning’ and was a member of the public lecture sub-committee of the Mount Morgan Technical College which organised talks and lectures on a variety of topics for the broader community.

Hamilton Creek School, circa 1920s
The longest posting of Fred’s career was to Hamilton Creek State School, outside Mt. Morgan.  This was when Mt. Morgan was in its heyday and there were numerous state schools serving the township.  It was here that Fred’s three children grew up and attended school.  Fred appreciated a nice garden and the prolonged period he spent at Hamilton Creek provided an opportunity to see his plantings established and flourishing.   A rose bush was planted for every child along the lane down to the road.  Tall sprinklers were installed to spray the garden.  A lush quisqualis rambled on the veranda rails of the teacher’s residence. 

 During his years in Hamilton Creek Fred purchased a Model T Ford.  A former fellow student of his daughter Mavis McKinlay, at the age of 103 years, recalled Fred as follows: ‘Oh yes! McKinlay! He was the school teacher chap. Drove his daughters to school every day in his Model T Ford’.  [See Week 2’s post for more on this story].

In May 1927, Fred was transferred to the Mt Morgan Boys School.  The locals gathered in the school on a Saturday night to farewell him.  Mr. F. Toppenberg, an engineer with the Main Roads and President of the Progress Association, presided and in his remarks eulogised Fred’s qualities, both as a teacher and as a resident among them.  Fred was presented with a gold pencil and Francia with a silver memento cup as a token of affection and esteem.  Mr. Campion also spoke of Fred in glowing terms.  Fred offered the appropriate responses.  The speeches were followed by musical items (including some performed by Fred’s own daughters), dancing, and supper.

In 1936, Fred took substantial sick leave during July and August. Unfortunately, in December that year, he was admitted to the Nundah Private Hospital and passed away on Boxing Day from complications following emergency surgery for bowel cancer.  This was only three week after the death of his mother.

Fred’s obituary describes him as “very popular with the scholars”, which is a short statement for forty years of work, but a lovely way to be remembered.

There was obviously much more to Fred than his role as a teacher.  He was a son, brother, cousin, husband, father, uncle, grandfather and friend, but that, as they say, is a story for another day.  This week was all about service and Fred definitely put in many good years with the education department, starting a tradition of teaching in the family – his brother also trained as a teacher (although only worked in this profession for a few brief years), both his daughters trained as teachers, and at least six of his grandchildren and great-grandchildren are or have been involved in education.

Here’s to Fred and all the wonderful teachers out there, continuing this tradition of service to education.

Monday 4 May 2020

Stanislaw Slobodian and his three sons


52 Ancestors in 52 Weeks
Week 18 | Where there's a will...

This week’s story isn't about an ancestor; rather it’s about long-term neighbours who feature in our family story.  I don’t know all the details of the Slobodians’ family story but their broader narrative leaves no room for doubt that they faced great sadness, untold horrors and overcame significant challenges in order to take up farming next door to my Davey family in Eight Mile Plains (Queensland, Australia).  

This is their story as compiled from recollections told to me by my mother, Irene Davey, and publicly available sources.

Zenowij Slobodian, circa 1949
On 20 April 1949, former Ukraine national Stanislaw Slobodian and his three sons, Wolodoymyr, Zenowij, and Omelan stepped off the immigrant ship Svalbard and onto Station Pier in Melbourne.  It was Omelan’s 19th birthday.  This was their first day in Australia.  They had boarded the ship a month earlier in Genoa, Italy, along with 896 other displaced persons, all seeking a new life in Australia following World War II.  

At the end of World War II, there was no recognized Ukrainian state and there were approximately two million Ukrainians amongst the twenty million ‘foreigners’ who found themselves stranded in Germany when the fighting ceased. All but approximately 200,000 of the Ukrainians returned either willingly or by force to what was by then the USSR.  The majority of those who remained in Germany subsisted in approximately 80 (out of a total of 700) displaced persons camps which were for Ukrainians, awaiting resettlement in countries such as Australia, the United States, and Canada.  The Slobodians had been in Amberg, a camp in US occupied area of Germany, until the International Refugee Organization arranged their immigration to Australia.[1]  In exchange for free passage and help on arrival, they agreed to work for the government for two years.[2]

Frightened by the near invasion of Australia by the Japanese, Prime Minister Ben Chifley had decreed that Australia must grow its population as rapidly as possible.[3]   In 1949, the Minister for Immigration, Mr A A Callwell anticipated the year would be “the most vigorous Australian migration year since the gold rushes of the 1850's”.[4]  An estimated 25,000 immigrants were expected to arrive in the month of April alone.  Displaced persons from camps in Europe were expected to make up 11,299 of the immigrants.[5]   The Slobodians were four of this number.

Soon after disembarking the Svalbard in Melbourne, the immigrants boarded a train for the seven-hour journey to Bonegilla migrant reception camp in Wodonga on the Victorian/New South Wales border. It was intended that newly arrived immigrants would spend several weeks in the camp receiving education on life in Australia and then be dispatched around Australia to industries such as hydro-electric schemes, cane-cutting, timber-cutting, brick-making and harbour construction.  It wasn’t always this easy, however, and some stayed months, if not years, in the reception camps. [6]

The details of how long the Slobodian men stayed in Bonegilla has not yet been determined but it would seem they found work and completed their two year obligation quite quickly as by 1951, Stanislaw, Omelan and Zenowij were in Queensland. Stanislaw purchased part of my grandparents’ farm in Eight Mile Plains, thus becoming our neighbours. Pop Davey sold Stanislaw the already established part of his 40 acre block. While he was constructing a new house for his family on the portion he retained, the Slobodians lived in one of the sheds while the Daveys continued to occupy the ‘old house’. After the Daveys moved to their new house, Stanislaw built a new house to replace the Daveys’ old one. The Slobodians named the property ‘Liliana’.

Although Stanislaw was listed as ‘single’ on the passenger list for the Svalbard, he had been married to Liliana, mother to his sons, but had lost track of her during the turbulent years of the war. Presumably unable to determine her fate or whereabouts, he immigrated without her. Irene recalls that many years later (possibly in the early 1960s), she was located and brought out to Australia. Irene remembers that Liliana couldn’t believe the freedom of Australia. She used to walk down to the catch the bus, saying in wonderment, ‘I go shopping’; amazed that she had money to buy things, that there were things in the shops to buy, and that no-one was stopping her.[7]

Prior to arriving in Eight Mile Plains, Omelan had been working in the forestry somewhere around Kilcoy. In April 1951, he was one of six men injured when a timber truck collided with a utility on the Jimna-Goomeri Road.[8] Omelan suffered compound fractures of both legs and was transported to the Brisbane Hospital.[9] Unfortunately, both legs had to be amputated and he was fitted with artificial legs. However, Irene recalls him dancing and riding a bike with ease.

Omelan subsequently moved to Adelaide where he was heavily involved with the Ukrainian Scouting movement, Plast, and the Ukrainian Philatelic society. He married and had two sons. Omelan died in 2015. In 1966, Irene was working in a fruit canning factory in the Riverina for the summer where she made friends with a girl who was Russian Orthodox. One weekend they travelled to Adelaide to attend church, and Irene was amazed to find Omelan, her one-time neighbour from Eight Mile Plains sitting in the front row.[10]

Zen also worked in Jimna, presumably with the forestry, but later was able to resume his profession as an electrician. His alien registration card indicates that he also went to Adelaide for a short time but subsequently returned to Eight Mile Plains where he built another house on the far back section of the block Stanislaw purchased. Zen married and had three children. He died in 2019.

From Bonegilla, Wolodymyr appears to have gone to Adelaide but also to have lived in Wodonga for a period of time. Wolodymyr married, but how many children he had, if any, is unknown for now.

Today, the Slobodians are recognized with several street namings in Eight Mile Plains – Slobodian Avenue, Lilywood Street (named for the family’s wife and mother), and possibly Stanley Place[11] – and their descendants continue to live in various parts of Australia, some having forged very successful careers.

Along their journey, Stanislaw (and his sons) no doubt asked 'will?' many times:  Will we survive the war? Will we see each other again? Will we get out of the displaced persons camp? Will we find a new life? Will we like Australia?  Will we fit in? Will we find jobs? Will I walk again?  Will I see my wife again?  But their story proves that where there's a 'will', there is hope and possibility.

NOTE: I’m far from an expert (in fact, I know barely anything) on Ukrainian history, the fate of Ukrainians during World War II, displaced persons camps or immigrant resettlement, and I haven’t met any Slobodian family members (yet).  There is much more to the story of this family than is contained here (although my wish is that I might have an opportunity to learn more one day). In piecing together this brief account of our neighbours of twenty-plus years, the Slobodians, I hope I have not only acknowledged their part in our family's story, but have respectfully paid tribute to their part in Australia’s story.



[1] Summary drawn from information contained in the notes from a lecture presented by Professor Orest Subtelny, Friday March 7, 2003 at the Ukrainian Museum in New York City, http://www.brama.com/news/press/030311subtelny_DPcamps.html
[3] Ibid
[4] ‘Great Migrant Armada’, The Scone Advocate, 1 April 1949, p. 7
[5] Migration in Australia, op cit
[6] Migration in Australia, op cit
[7] Pers comm., Irene Davey, April 2020
[8] ‘6 Injured in Collision’, Brisbane Telegraph, 7 April 1951, p. 4
[9] Ibid.
[10] Pers. Comm., Irene Davey, April 2020
[11] Stanislaw later went by the name Stanley