The View From Connor's Hill by Barry Heard Page A

kids, and finally asked for their list. In the 1950s, there were no packets of anything much, really. There were no rubbish bins ready for re-cycling — there was no rubbish to speak of, and certainly no rubbish collection.
    Occasionally, we would head into Swifts Creek to the movies. Every Tuesday we would get off the school bus, and our first wish would be for Dad to come home at a reasonable hour. Then we’d complete our chores in record time, and behave ourselves with perfect manners. Sometimes it worked. The result was a quick tea, a wash, and a hair brush, and we’d pile into the ute.
    During my youth, a night at the movies was a great night out. The movies started at 8.00 p.m. with a cartoon, or sometimes two, followed by the Movietone news, and then the first movie would begin. It would be a full-length film. At interval, David Jessup would be ready with his tray of lollies, standing out the front after the lights came on. He sold a variety: Columbines, milkshakes, Jaffas, jellybeans, Violet Crumble bars, barley sugar, and Fags — small cigarette-like candy, which even had a red tip. All the lollies were Australian-made by companies such as MacRobertson, Allens, Hoadleys, and Cadbury.
    I recall with excitement when, towards the end of that decade, the local store introduced ice creams in a cone, and milkshakes. From then on, during interval at the Tuesday movies in the Swifts Creek Mechanics Hall, we would dash up the street at interval to the store to order our milkshake and ice cream.
    Interval was never at a set time. After the adults had enjoyed their chitchats, and the kids had settled, silence returned. This would be the cue for the projectionist, after which the second half would begin. There would be trailers advertising the next ‘Do not miss’ movies showing over the following weeks. Then the feature movie would begin. In all, most nights finished between 11.30 p.m. and 12.30 a.m. — usually after four hours of entertainment. Being a big night out, you simply went home to bed afterwards … so different from today.
    DURING THAT FIRST YEAR at Doctors Flat, we started to attend events other than the odd movie — like the footy, the cricket, or the Scouts, and annual events. Due to its isolation, the Omeo Shire had almost no electric power. The townships of Swifts Creek and Omeo had 240-volt electricity, but the rest of the area had almost none, apart from household lighting plants that provided 12-volt or 32-volt power. For most of the shire, this meant no television, and poor radio reception. However, there was always something happening during the year like the Omeo Show, the Omeo Rodeo, or the Boxing Day sports at Swifts Creek, Omeo, and Ensay.
    The Swift Creek and Omeo days were for athletics, sheath tossing, mini races, and novelty events like the greasy pig chase, during which a greased pig was given a short head-start in front of a hundred eager teenagers. The winner was the one who caught the pig, and got to keep it.
    The Ensay Boxing Day, on the other hand, was mainly for horses and sheepdog trials. There were also annual horse races at Swifts Creek and Benambra, while the annual sheep and cattle sales held at Benambra, Omeo, Swifts Creek, and Ensay were major events, too. Then there were golf, badminton, and tennis tournaments, fishing clubs, and rifle clubs throughout the area.
    An hour’s drive up from Omeo was Dinner Plain and Mount Hotham, both ski resorts where we visited and tobogganed down the slopes.
    However, it was my first visit to the Omeo Show that I recall with wonder. It was a display of all the talent and skills found in the district. There were men in Fletcher Jones Harris tweed sports coats, and wearing squatters’ hats, wandering the grounds. Other men wearing dustcoats would be judging sheep, cattle, wool, horses, and cuts of beef and mutton.
    In the pavilion, the women displayed their skills in cooking, sewing, weaving, and other homely