Sepia Saturday this week is all about imposing buildings and a very ladylike game of tennis. It seems apt therefore that it immediately brought to my mind, the Catholic High School I attended with its emphasis on ladylike behaviour – sadly I’ve let that fall by the wayside over the years.
This photo was taken of the school in 1988, closer to when our daughters attended than when I did. At the time I was there the top floor on the right contained the concert hall which we approached by a slightly winding wooden staircase. Woe betide us if our heavy shoes made a single sound as we progressed up the floors….ladylike behaviour, remember. And in a divergence, equally heaven help us if any noise or disturbance distracted us from the speaker, play or concert that was being performed on the stage. I’ve thought since what an unfortunate training it was for the modern age where being alert to one’s surroundings can make the difference between life and death in dire circumstances. I don’t suppose the nuns could have imagined such things in the mid-1960s.
I did play on the courts in this image once or twice, goodness knows why. My tennis skills were very mediocre and I was not keen to exhibit my inadequacies to any nun or the other students who passed by.
Similarly another set of courts was directly below my classroom in Years 9 and 10. Strangely I have no memory of ever hearing the ping of tennis balls on a racquet. The prevailing sense from that classroom was the strong smell of hops from the brewery across the road, and my cousin’s teacher slamming the blackboard to the very top when she was in a cranky mood.
I first learned to play tennis in late primary school. I have no real idea how that came to pass, but I imagine the local school was letter-dropped or similar, as a number of kids from my school learned on someone’s backyard court nearby for a while. Our teacher was Daphne Fancutt who had been a Wimbledon Finalist in the 1950s. As I grew a bit older I caught the bus and tram to the Fancutt courts at Lutwyche. My inadequacies certainly didn’t improve in a competitive environment and a fellow student from school was somehow teamed with me. He was a very good A-standard player, despite having to deal with the results of polio, I on the other hand, was P for Pathetic.
While I occasionally attended (to watch!) major tennis competitions at Milton, and even have a signature in my teenage autograph book from Aussie Legend, Rod Laver, I was happy to leave tennis behind well before I left high school. In early adulthood I learned to play squash which I enjoyed much more. I’ve never been a very sporty person even though I walked everywhere until my 20s as we didn’t own a car.
I was delighted to find this 1934 painting of the All Hallows’ Convent on the State Library of Queensland website this morning. It was painted by William Bustard and published in The Queenslander newspaper.
I’ve also found that the library has two gaps in its collection of All Hallows’ annual magazine: 1941 and 1951. Since I have inherited the 1941 edition from my mother and have already scanned her class photo I’ve offered the magazine to them. Perhaps someone else has the 1951 edition.
Why not go across to see where the other Sepians have lobbed their tennis balls this week?