Bought by “Litho” migrants for a pittance after the war,
this simple two-bedroom, one-bathroom house in Horton Street
recently sold for $467,000 AUD, approximately 370,000 Euro.
Photo: Ray White Bankstown
this simple two-bedroom, one-bathroom house in Horton Street
recently sold for $467,000 AUD, approximately 370,000 Euro.
Photo: Ray White Bankstown
After the end of the World War Two, the Labour Party – who at the time was in Government – came up with the slogan “populate or perish”. It wasn’t altogether the accepted view but Immigration Minister Arthur Calwell devised a plan to accept Europeans made refugees by the War. His plan was to bring out working males as indentured workers requiring them to work for two years to pay off their and their families’ cost of the ship’s passage. Lithuanians were part of this refugee intake and so their journey to Australia started around 1948.
My father on arrival to Australia was indentured to the Water board working for them in Regents Park, a suburb of Sydney. My mother arrived in Australia some nine months later with my brother Juozas and myself. We spent time in refugee camps in Bonegilla and Cowra and one day, some two years in refugee camps, my father informed us that he had purchased a block of land in Horton Street, Bass Hill.
My father by now was working for a joiner and was able to purchase the materials for our first home. The home consisted of two rooms with a laundry attached. Its size would be no bigger than a garage. One room was a bedroom where the whole family slept and the other room was for everything else that a house must provide. This room that we lived in was quite bare. There was a table and a couple of chairs, a tub for bathing the children and another table that had the primus stove. This stove required cooking the vegetables first and the meat second. Cooking must have been a difficult task.
Horton Street as a road was cobble stoned. Originally it wasn’t tarred or a dirt road. The rocks were large and the surface OK for the time as no one in the street had motor cars. The first car that I can remember was owned by a Mr Walker, an Australian resident living two houses from the Belkai family. I am not sure, but the number of Lithuanian families that came to Horton Street could have been as many as 26. All immigrants to a foreign land will find a place to live that gives them an element of safety, community and familiarity with the people who neighbour their home. So it is of no surprise that the Vietnamese or the Lebanese have done the same.
Life was quite simple to the original inhabitants of Horton Street. Milk and bread were delivered to the door. The delivery was by horse and cart and the product was left outside the front door. Every Friday, money was left at the front door and it was unthinkable that anyone would steal the money. On Saturday, the ice cream man would come down the street, also on a horse and cart, ringing his bell to attract attention. The cost of an ice cream was three pennies.
The suburb of Yagoona behind Horton Street was bush. For shopping, mothers trekked to Bankstown via a track. This journey could have been five miles, about 7,5 kilometres, and groceries had to be carried back by hand. Can you imagine anyone doing that today? Later on, a bus service went into operation making shopping a little easier.
Life for a young kid living in Horton Street was an adventure. The bush was a marvellous place for curiosity of all sorts. There was also a smelly pond at the back of Clarke Street that we used to dog paddle in. We immigrant kids in Horton Street only spoke one language and that was Lithuanian. When school started, we all fronted up in kindergarten and whatever language the teachers were using, it didn’t register with us. I am sure that the teachers were not given any preparation with receiving refugee children into their schools. So for us, kindergarten was spent playing with plasticine. After a year or so, English became familiar and school to us Lithuanian kids was the same as the Australian kids.
Article courtesy “Lapas” and www.lithuaniatribune.com
Displaced Persons from Lithuania Making Their Way to Australia:
Mrs Lydia Drescheris with her children and a friend.
Image Copyright Western Australian Museum
Mrs Lydia Drescheris with her children and a friend.
Image Copyright Western Australian Museum
My parents and I arrived in Australia in 1948 on the MV Casablanca. I have absolutely no recollection of the trip as I was only two years old when we arrived in Australia. I know, however, that I made an already unpleasant and difficult trip for my parents even more unpleasant and difficult by contracting scarlet fever and being confined to an isolation ward on the ship.
The story of my parents’ early days and years in Australia as well as the story of other Lithuanians in Horton Street and indeed the story of all post-WW2 displaced persons was a struggle for survival.
They had to cope with a strange new land in which both the landscape and the weather were entirely unfamiliar; an entirely new culture and approach to life incomprehensible to them at the time; a strange new language spoken by people who were not, in the main, particularly tolerant of new arrivals evidenced by the new arrivals being variously referred to as ‘reffos (refugees), wogs, Balts or sometimes as tykes’ and many other ‘endearing’ terms which I cannot recall; not to mention perhaps the most difficult of all, the total absence of any type of government support or welfare services.
The positive features were but very compelling. Freedom from persecution and the guarantee of work for the man of the house, at least for the first two years. The latter came with strings attached and caused its own hardships, but this discourse is for another time and another place. Enough already, what about Horton Street and the Lithuanian Community you will be asking? How and why did such a large number of Lithuanian families settle there in the 1950’s? I have no real knowledge of why this occurred, but I have a theory which, at least to me, makes some sense. Many of the Lithuanian men were indentured for two years to the Metropolitan Water Board which had a number of depots in the Bankstown area. They had to go wherever they were given work, as this was a requirement under their conditions of entry into Australia. The wives and children remained in far away camps at places such as Bathurst, Cowra and Bonegilla until they were in a position to pay for their families to join them in Sydney.
A remaining original ‘Quonset Hut’.
Courtesy of Fairfield City Library and Museum
Courtesy of Fairfield City Library and Museum
I cannot recall how many rooms there were in each hut, but they were small. One and sometimes two families lived in each room. My parents rented one of these rooms as did the Bernotas family and a number of other Lithuanian families whose names I cannot recall. It is my guess that most of those who lived on the Pasquali farm ended up buying land and building a house in the nearby Horton Street. My parents certainly did, as did the Bernotas family.
Remaining members of the Horton Street community
still living there today. Picture: Chris Mckeen. Source: NewsLocal
still living there today. Picture: Chris Mckeen. Source: NewsLocal
Anyone born after about 1956 will not remember that there was a brick-making factory at the end of Clarke St. The factory used clay dug from a pit in front of the factory and the pit was a great place for the kids to play when no workers were around, and particularly so after the factory was de-commissioned. Bows and arrows and shanghais were the favoured weapons of mass destruction and the kids thought it was great fun to shoot these missiles at each other. I can’t recall anyone getting seriously hurt during these wars, which were punctuated by long truces during which games of street cricket were played. The pit, which half filled with water during heavy rain, became a great place to row around on mattresses which had been dumped in the nearby bush land. Everyone survived these voyages as no drownings were reported. In the early years of Lithuanian settlement in Horton Street, the only language spoken in the home was Lithuanian. I think that most of parents genuinely hoped that one day in the not too distant future that the Soviet Union would disintegrate, that Lithuania would regain its independence and that they would return home. In the meantime, the kids were sent to Lithuanian classes on Saturday afternoons where they were taught Lithuanian language and grammar, as well as Lithuanian history.
As the years changed to decades, and their children spoke in Aussie English to their siblings and Lithuanian friends, the command ‘Kalbëk lietuviðkai’ (speak Lithuanian) was heard less and less frequently in Horton St households. As time marched on, so too did many of the early Lithuanian inhabitants of Horton and Clarke Streets. Many moved to more prosperous locations as their finances improved. Those who stayed remained a close knit community and never gave up their Lithuanian heritage and traditions. Inevitably the children of these early pioneers moved to wherever their careers, ambitions and desires dictated. Just as inevitably perhaps, the new generations, being less exposed to hearing the Lithuanian language spoken on a daily basis, are less likely to speak, read or write in Lithuanian. In more recent times a new wave of Lithuanian immigrants has made their way to this fair land, and so the language of our forebears continues to be spoken in Australia.
Time has seen the passing of most of the original Lithuanian immigrants who were ‘The Bass Hill Collective’. We salute them all, including those who remain with us to this day. It is they who worked hard and suffered great hardships to give us the opportunity to succeed in life. They did not have this same opportunity through no fault of their own and we, their children, grand-children and even great-great grandchildren, owe them a huge debt of gratitude.
Article courtesy www.lithuaniatribune.com
I remember all the kids playing on the road: back when it was safe to do so, that is. So many games to choose from because we ALL had imaginations then and there was always a bunch of us.
I remember walking up to the Hume Highway to catch the school bus in the mornings, and as always, again there were a bunch of us. I remember going to school on Sundays in order to learn how to speak Lithuanian, and you guessed it: there was always a bunch of us.
We’d catch the bus home from Bankstown to Yagoona West and there was always a bunch of us. We were never alone, never felt lonesome because there was always someone to talk to or play with because there was always a bunch of us.
The young ones were always safe because there were always older ones looking after them. I remember as we grew up, there were always dances to attend at the Lithuanian House in Bankstown and yes, there was always a bunch of us.
And yet, as we did grow up, none of the children married into Horton Street because I think we all thought of each other as family. I still remember as a young child, our parents could leave us kids at home and go to the neighbours for a birthday party and know that we were safe: there was always a parent patrolling the street now!
I remember being sad when I eventually left Horton Street to go out into the world but it was even better coming home to visit. It’s nice to bring my children back to Horton Street even though we now live in Perth. The street may have changed with new faces but the memories will always remain.
With so many Lithuanian families around, you were never alone. Quite simply, I loved living in Horton Street.
Article courtesy www.lithuaniatribune.com
Back in their homeland, Lithuania, our parents suffered under the hands of the Germans during World War II. Many fled their oppressed country to try to find a better future. The word was out that there was a possibility of a brighter future in lands far away from their beloved homeland. Australia was offering the “beautiful Balts” (as the Immigration Minister, Arthur Calwell, called them) a chance for a new life. The ‘Beautiful Balts’ were often referred to as a Trojan horse of the Australian Immigration scheme. They were one of the first ships containing displaced Europeans from World War II. They are referred to as a Trojan horse as they set the standard for future arrivals of Europeans immigrants these Beautiful Balts were portrayed as sophisticated, affluent, beautiful and in the eyes of the majority of the population the most important attribute was that they were white, or in other words the next best thing the British migrants. And as this standard was set so high it made the population believe that the huge influx of migrants from Europe were going to be the same, but a majority were not affluent or white.
They were just hard working victims of war coming to a foreign, different land in search of a better future. And the government at the time knew this, they had their beautiful face of the new immigration policy and they cleverly deceived the population who were bent on keeping their white British Australia the same.
My parents arrived in Sydney on the ship the ‘Castelbianco’ on 19 November, 1948. The ship left Genoa in Italy on the 19 October on its second voyage to Australia carrying 879 passengers. My father Stasys was a very handsome young 30 year-old, my mother Juze, a stunningly beautiful 22 year-old and my eldest brother Romualdas (Romas) was a very cute blonde little boy only two years.
In fact, I would have to say that all of the families that arrived from Lithuania and settled in Horton Street were all very young and very beautiful. For me it is very difficult to imagine such a long arduous journey travelling with a small child, but sadly many had to do it. They were proud people forced to flee their homelands due to the Soviet communist occupation and terror.
I discovered a tape recording of my father talking to my brother in law Saulus (Saul) Karpuska. On this tape my father spoke of the hardships that they endured before the war, during the war and then after the war. He became a ‘partisan’. He said there were many partisans. The Russians were beginning to occupy Lithuania. The Russians killed many of the partisan fighters. He states that even though the Russians occupied Lithuania he still stated that the Russian people were good people. It was only the Communist political beliefs that were bad. This was the cause of their future turmoil and decision to leave Lithuania and to leave their families behind in search of a better life.
My parents escaped to Germany. My father worked there for several years on the railway. He said that they were given food, clothing and basic housing in camps in Germany. He said that he was on a list to go to Brazil and apparently they were being questioned to possibly settle there. He had an offer to go to America if he had been single. They did not take the offer to America as my parents were already married and had their first child. The next offer was Australia. They took this offer as families were welcomed. On arriving to Sydney they were taken to Bathurst. He was offered a contract to work for the Water Board in 1948. It was a two year contract that they had to sign. He still remembered his work number – 686.
By 1950 when my brother Vytautas (Vytas) they found a place to rent for 30 shillings at Bass Hill in Johnston Rd near where the Plaza is now. In actual fact that fibro house is still there today. Eventually they found out that there were some Lithuanian families living in Horton St so they purchased their block of land for approximately 50 pound. It was difficult to find a builder and building materials in those days. All of the neighbours helped each other to build their homes.
By the time Valerija (Valerie), my sister was born in 1954 the house in Horton St was completed. My mother worked cleaning homes and on the railways in the early days. It was hard work. The going was tough so my father had to find a second job to support to support the family so he would to travel all the way near Cronulla to work at the refinery. I, Eleonora (Eleanor), was born in 1957, their fourth and last child. The road was not an easy one for my parents trying to support four children. There was no government support back then, as there is today. They had to achieve building their homes and supporting their families through hard work.
The next question asked was, if his life would have been better if he had stayed living in Lithuania. He said that compared to his family that were left behind he was thankfully “free” and grateful for their freedom. My father was 74 years old when he was being interviewed by Saul. Sadly both of my parents have passed away; my father in 2004 and my mother in 2006.
According to the Horton Street stories, a gentleman called Mr Zarambas was the first to purchase a block of land in Horton Street in approximately 1948. He lived in a tent on his land for a few years until he could afford to build his home. Eventually, by word of mouth the new settlers would ask around if they knew of a good, safe place to live where they might find other Lithuanian families. That is how they all came to live in Horton Street. Back when my parents arrived the area was bushland. The land had to be cleared. They all helped each other build their homes.
The “Horton St Collective” left a great legacy to the Lithuanian Community in Sydney. The first Lithuanian school was started up in the Genys family home in the back room in the early 50?s. The “community” were all strong in their faith and celebrated mass in some of the garages that were their “first” homes. This continued for many years. The men all helped build the first Lithuanian hall in East Terrace Bankstown. Most of the families became involved in Lithuanian sports, dancing, scouts, school and choir. In fact the community was very strong. However the parents all assimilated and integrated within the Australian community and all learnt to speak English. They were all very proud of their homes. The Horton St community were all friends for life.
A special tribute to the families who lived in Horton St & Clarke St: Sidlauskas, Svirnas, Bernotas, Zigmantas, Satkauskas, Giniotis Kasperaitis, Penkaitis, Mickus , Kazlauskas, Surka , Paltanavicius, Genys, Zigaitis, Petrukevicius, Bartininkas, Laurinaitis, Zaremba, Silinskas, Belkus, Balkus, Mockus, Dulinskas, Nakutis, Padagas, Kuras, Jantkauskas, Abromas, Ankus, Kramilius, Buchinskas.
Article courtesy www.lithuaniatribune.com
New beginnings: Bronius and Genutë Genys with their young children
Lucia, Danguolë and Kæstutis in front of their house at 81 Horton St,
Yagoona (Sydney, Australia).
Lucia, Danguolë and Kæstutis in front of their house at 81 Horton St,
Yagoona (Sydney, Australia).
This statement has been forever etched in my mind and came from one of the many gatherings held in Horton Street. I was sitting with my mother and father, Bronius and Genutë Genys, at the Satkauskas home with other Horton Street community members. They were all reminiscing about the good old times and remembering those who had already passed away. I will never forget when Mrs Satkauskas then said, “We will all meet up in heaven and dance”. Everyone then held up their drinks and saluted her message! To me that act was so powerful because it imprinted on my mind that they were always going to be together celebrating in life and death.
What I remember most about my youth in Horton Street was the continuous sharing of special occasions, whether it be birthdays, marriages, funerals, Saints’ Days or Names’ Days there was always a party for each occasion. Parties were even held after our prayers to Santa Maria complete with our rosary beads; these prayer gatherings were held in people’s homes or in garages. There would always be an occasion to celebrate with a light supper afterwards.
Young love: Bronius and Genutë Genys
(in Lithuanian national dress) shortly after the war’s end.
(in Lithuanian national dress) shortly after the war’s end.
We grew up as a family that was raised by a community. As a child growing up all of us were brothers and sisters, and we shared with each other at the same time as sometimes complaining how were strict our parents were, how others were smarter or more beautiful; all the normal feelings and emotions of growing up. Yes, there were stories of the boys in the street and then mischievous ways, especially on firecracker night. I won’t mention the letterboxes, but I’m sure the boys will remember! I remember the boys always been so adventurous and always full of creative ideas. The girls were nurturing, like all of our mothers, and we always had each other to depend on.
Ona Razaitis, Lucia’s beloved Moèiute.
But we also never forgot their trauma, the families they left behind in Lithuania due to be circumstances beyond their control; war and Communism. They had so much grief and loss to deal with but in those days they did not have counsellors, but rather only each other to depend upon. They had to start all over: raise children, learn a new language, new job skills, and assimilate into a new culture and country.
I remember that even though they were in a new land they were always packing up parcels and sending over money to their homeland and families back in Lithuania. The long-distance could never sever the ties they had with family back home. This was the essence that they carried through their remaining life in Australia.
I remember my father’s, Bronius Genys, real-life story. He was studying to be a Silesian priest in Turin, Italy. He worked in boys’ orphanages in Italy and Lithuania until the horrors of war changed the course of his life and he was recruited into the army to fight on the Russian front. It is so hard to imagine someone who had chosen to prepare himself for a religious life and training as a vocation to care for others, to show love and mercy, only to now be forced to fight to survive in a war and left with the task of burying his dead colleagues and praying for their souls. Oh how life can change in a single moment…
A brood grows: Lucia Genys (Genevicius) Hassett,
Danguolë Genys (Hutchison) and Kæstutis Genys with
their parents, Bronius and Genutë.
Danguolë Genys (Hutchison) and Kæstutis Genys with
their parents, Bronius and Genutë.
His injury prevented him from completing his studies to become a Silesian priest. After the war ended in 1945 he was transferred to a DP (displaced persons) Camp where he worked as a teacher in the primary and high schools. My father’s disability did not stop his work in the community and he never stopped helping others doing such things as building homes, cleaning shoes going to school. He was an artist and painted beautiful paintings, especially the landscapes of his homeland. He also assisted local and surveys and taught Lithuanian to all the children and our community at the Lithuanian language school. My father passed away at 92 years of age on 7 March 2008.
The greatest positive my father not continuing with his path to the priesthood was meeting my beautiful mother in a German Displaced Persons Camp after the war and falling in love. If not for those events shaping a different direction then we would not be here. After the war they had a choice to travel to Australia or America by boat: so there you go, another wise choice!
Genutë Genys, Lucia’s “Earth Angel”.
I also remember my dear article Leonas Zigaitis from the trauma of displacement. Dëdë Leonas was an intelligent man who died at a young age, but somewhat I remember the most was a man of great gentleness and kindness: traits that have always had a lasting effect on my life. His gentle way of being is why believe so much in the act of kindness every day and to treat everyone with respect because we all have a story.
So looking back, our families carried their strengths well with each other and Horton Street families as well as all those who landed on Australian soil was so bonded by history and a shared experience. That’s why I now understand why they were so strict with us and worried all the time: they were shaped by the immense danger they had lived through. All they wanted to do was protect us because they loved so much and wanted a better future for their children.
Our Lithuanian families fought and striped with great hardship for their freedom in order to pass this legacy on to their children, and they have achieved just that.
To my beautiful Earth Angel, my mother Genutë Genys, thank you Mamytë for the gift of life as well as your sacrifices. When your time comes keep up the good dancing heaven as I know you will be in a good place.
Horton Street has not ended, it is just continuing in the dance they are still having up in heaven!
Article courtesy www.lithuaniatribune.com