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    A Suitcase Full of Dreams
    A Suitcase Full of Dreams
    A Suitcase Full of Dreams
    Ebook354 pages4 hours

    A Suitcase Full of Dreams

    By Roditch

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    About this ebook

    The Goulburn Valley, Victoria, Australia is home to thousands of refugees and immigrants from around the world. Shepparton is the main city in the Goulburn Valley which is surrounded by orchards. This book is a collection of stories from well known "New Australians" who have made the Goulburn Valley their home in the past 100 plus years.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherRoditch
    Release dateApr 3, 2020
    ISBN9780463104828
    A Suitcase Full of Dreams
    Author

    Roditch

    I am a retired Photography Teacher, Refugee Settlement Manager, and Builder. For the past 10 years, I have been teaching part-time, writing books, taking photos and doing lots of research.All the books I write come from experience and research. Yes, in my life so far I have worked with refugees, taught art, built houses, studied herbs, and health. I have also studied astrology spirituality including meditation, animal welfare, and poetry.I sincerely hope that you can gain valuable information from my books (usually short and sweet introductions) to different facets of life I have visited.

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      Book preview

      A Suitcase Full of Dreams - Roditch

      This collection of short stories is about the past and the future. Many of the people who have traveled to Australia in the past 100 years have done so because of terrible hardships, pain, and suffering in their country of birth. On arriving in Australia, they had a lot of adjustments to make in this new, strange land on the other side of the world. There were no instant miracles of prosperity and comfort, but at least there was hope. With hard work, it was possible to make progress towards a decent home, an income, and family planning. These pioneers crossed a bridge between poverty and prosperity. The sacrifices and struggles of the men and women who came to Australia made it possible for their children and grandchildren to have a better life.

      This book celebrates their abilities to overcome difficulties, dream of a better life, and make Australia a better place for everyone. I thank everyone who has contributed their story to this book; it has brought back good and not-so-good memories. Anyone who reads these stories either now or in the distant future will marvel at how a nation of Aussies came into existence and hopefully keep the spirit of hard work, dreaming your dreams, and diversity alive.

      Adele Meredith

      I want to let you know how hard it was for me in this life. On March 3, 1946, in Reutlingen, Germany, to a mother named Lucy Bozic, I was born with a disease in both of my legs. I could not walk for the first two years of my life. When Lucy Bozic tried to get on the ship Nellie to go to Australia in 1948, Lucy was stopped at the border and told she could not leave without her child. Lucy had to wait until my legs got better.

      When Lucy arrived in Australia I was dumped immediately, and placed in an Orphanage in Essendon called, St. Theresa's Orphanage, I was abandoned. On the 16th December 1984, the Federal Police found me to let me know that Lucy Bozic was asking for me because Lucy had only 3 weeks to live, she was dying of cancer of the colon. It was on her death bed that Lucy told me about her life story and where I fitted into it.

      I was washing my mother because she was so weak and could not do it herself when I noticed a swastika with LB 0096 tattooed under her left arm. It was then that my mother told me that she was a Lebon's born slave and Lucy was a slave working in the Reutlingen ammunition factory making rockets and bullets for the German Army. When it suited the SS to have sex, they chose my mother because she was beautiful, and Lucy was beautiful even on her death bed. My mother told me that I should thank God that I was not born on 3-3-1945, and when I asked her why, she replied that they would have broken my neck and burned my body because Hitler wanted boys. My poor mother lived all her life in fear, and I lived a life of guilt because I was placed in institutions where bad children go, and there is no greater pain than the pain of rejection. I could not understand why I was brought up in institutions when I had done nothing wrong.

      Well, now I am fighting back as I have done since 1984. My mother died on the 2nd of February, 1985, and I was lucky to have had 4 weeks of looking after a beautiful woman who did not deserve what she went through. I have the Red Cross working for me as I want to know the names of my grandparents, if I have any relatives, maybe a cousin or nephew, and if there are any survivors of my mother's siblings. My mother's crime was that her mother was a Hungarian Gypsy, her father (my grandfather) was Yugoslavian, and my mother had six brothers and Lucy was the only girl. I must have hundreds of brothers and sisters, because whoever impregnated my mother must have made hundreds of other women pregnant. My mother did not mention her mother's name, and I can understand that it must have been very painful for her.

      It has felt very strange to me ever since I found out about my birth. It was not the intention of my creator God for me to be born, but by an evil demonic man by the name of Heinrich Himmler. It was by his law and evilness that I was conceived; therefore, I am the property of Germany because that is where I was created, and Germany is where I was born. Yet when the war was over, they made sure that Lucy Bozic took me with her because they didn't want to accept the fact that I existed, therefore, out of sight, out of mind. But I will fight and continue to fight; Germany owes my mother and myself an apology and compensation. I need to know who my family is and where my grandparents are buried.

      I am not Jewish in flesh, but spiritually I am more Jewish than a Jewish person is in the flesh because I love the Lord Jesus, and Jesus was a Jewish boy when he lived on this earth. I had a conversation with my Father God in prayer last week, and in a thought wave, God asked me, Adele, what does living by my grace mean? It took me by surprise, and I replied in prayer through thought, Yeah God, what does living by your grace mean? God replied, God's riches at Christ's expense. That is why I believe that justice will prevail for all the victims who are alive and that their children will continue to fight for justice and truth. So, the souls of the dearly departed in the Holocaust will not have died in vain. Thank you for reading about my part of the Holocaust.

      Adnan Alghazal

      I was born in the city of Basra, in the southern part of Iraq, predominantly inhabited by Shiite people who were severely persecuted and oppressed by the former regime. Like many other Shiites who lived in that part of Iraq, I had my share of atrocities: serious injury, six months of unjustified imprisonment, severe psychological damage, a demolished spirit, and a criminal political record.

      I graduated from the University of Basra in 1987 with a Bachelor of Food and Dairy Technology. Receiving honors, technically, made me qualified to do the Master's Degree in that field, but the ambition was denied due to the unfair fabricated political record and wrongful imprisonment. During the first few years following my release from prison I managed to avoid the traps set by the authorities. As the threat drew closer and became more imminent, I had to choose between two bitter options: either to join the Baathists and have my hands stained with the blood of my own people or to resist that pressure and be labelled as anti-Saddam, which was a very serious charge that would lead to life imprisonment if I was lucky enough to escape the death penalty. Therefore, I decided to flee the country. Before doing so, my first responsibility was to move my family to a place within Iraq where they could maintain a low profile. Although there was nowhere that was unreachable by the regime's henchmen,

      I then left Iraq at the end of 1997 with no plan in mind about my destination. Only when I crossed the border into Jordan did I start to think about finding a haven for myself and my family—a place where we could exercise our humanity. I chose Australia! Why Australia? It has ethnic diversity and minimal racial discrimination, so I had limited fears of alienation; Australia was an unnegotiated choice. After my 12-month journey of devastation and horror via Jordan, Thailand, Cambodia, Vietnam, China, and Hong Kong, Finally, I reached Australian soil in October 1998. I remained in custody for about two months, waiting for my papers to be examined. I was granted permanent residency. Half of my mission was complete. However, my wife and I had yet to celebrate our first wedding anniversary, and my newborn girls were still far away, facing an unknown fate. I desperately wanted to have the rest of my beloved family with me at this critical time and needed money to do so. At that time, gaining extra academic skills and training to meet the local job market standards did not sound logical. So, I took the first employment opportunity available. I moved from Melbourne to the Goulburn Valley to harvest the fruit and vegetable fields, exhausting every effort to get my family out of Iraq and saving up $32,000. I then lodged their applications with the Australian mission abroad. In 2001, my family and I were reunited in Australia. No fears of persecution, everyone having equal rights—a place where neighbors and friends are not potential spies.

      Originally, I came to Shepparton for one purpose only. We were fascinated and attracted by many other factors in this regional country town: the tolerance of the people, its multi-ethnic diversity, and the specific needs of minorities, which are always appreciated. We settled in Shepparton, built, and own a house, and my wife uses her teaching background to work part-time in ethnic schools. I work at Cutting Edge Uniting Care as a multicultural worker, helping people from multicultural backgrounds with their settlement issues, extensive interpreting, transitional integration, and filling the gaps between the new settlers and the wider society.

      For two years, I have been the president of the Iraqi community in Shepparton and surrounding districts, where there are approximately 16,000 Iraqis. FECCA 2005 presented me with the multicultural award. In addition, I was rewarded by the International Organization for Migration with a special award of recognition for the unique achievement that the Shepparton Iraqi community has gained in the Out of Iraq Election. Shepparton came first among 16 cities worldwide with a 97% attendance rate. In 2001 I became an Australian citizen, but I still wasn’t confident calling myself an Aussie. When the Australian troops were involved in toppling the Saddam regime, only then did I have a greater sense of my loyalty to Australia and how zealous and patriotic I am. When not only the safety of the Iraqi people was my concern, but I found myself praying to Allah to save and protect the Australian people too, I felt confident enough to introduce myself as an Australian–Iraqi citizen!

      Ah Wong

      Chang Wong is also known as Ah Tat Wong for reasons that can only be attributed to the fact that the Chinese put their family name first in both written and oral communications, confusing everyone. As it sounds, the Ah indeed may just have been the ah of indecision upon choosing the correct response. As Ah Wong was used in official letters and documentation, this may indicate an official's misunderstanding or it may have been a regional Chinese way of distinguishing members of the family. The family, however, remembers him as Chang Wong, and Wong remains the family name to this day. This is history, a story that can only be described as a very successful migration to the Goulburn Valley.

      Born in the north of China in 1840, there could be little doubt that Mr. Wong heard about the fortune’s others were making, so when his ship docked in Melbourne, he took his chance and jumped ship, heading for Bendigo. Upon arrival, Mr. Wong found employment as a cook at the Bendigo Hotel, where he met the lovely widow from Wales, Mary Yates, who was waitressing at the hotel, supporting herself and her two children, Alf, and Frank. After a brief romance, they soon married and had two more sons, Billy, and Herbert. The Wong’s, like many others, tried their hand at fossicking, which took them around Victoria before they eventually found themselves in Mooroopna in the 1870s, where they settled down and purchased a large piece of land on the river at the present site of Chinaman’s Garden Reserve, named in honor of Mr. Wong.

      There they set to work clearing the bush and building levees with the intention of growing vegetables and fruits. The fertile soil and sheltered position made this an almost ideal place for their venture, and they produced excellent fruits and vegetables that they delivered throughout the district with a horse-drawn carriage. Living so close to the river brought many of its own problems. The levies worked well when the river flowed high, but in 1906 and 1916 there were floods, and poor Mr. Wong’s Garden was turned into a lake. Nature wasn’t the only adversary; as noted in the paper of 1877, whilst the harvestmen were in town, Mr. Wong was assaulted in a most brutal manner by a swagman with a billet of wood, who repeatedly struck him about the head after Mr. Wong caught him trespassing.

      This didn’t squash Mr. Wong's community spirit, though, as a story related by the Thorns, whose family had migrated from England aboard the Calpurnia, recalls. In 1878, while the two eldest boys were traveling from Springhill to look at land that had opened for selection at Caniambo, a journey of 140 miles was undertaken with only one horse, which they took turns riding. When they came upon the river at Mooroopna, which was too high to cross, they engaged Mr. Wong to row them over in a small boat. James Thorn, the eldest boy, then purchased land and later became a councilor in Euroa Shire before returning to Shepparton via Violet Town in 1904. In 1883, the Wong’s were granted a gardener's license by the Shepparton Land Board, and by 1906, they had built two homes on the market garden site. Frank and his wife Lottie of Shepparton lived in one of them until 1910, when they moved house and all to Morrell St. Mooroopna. Bill and Alf also remained close to their parents and helped with the growing and delivery of the vegetables. It was after the 1916 floods that the crown resumed the land. Mr. Wong relocated to Morrell St. and continued to grow vegetables both in Ardmona on what is now the Midland Highway and on Morrell St.

      His son Billy also moved to Ardmona to work on an orchard, and his children were educated at Ardmona School. They later moved back to Mooroopna to lease a 31-acre block of land on Treacy St. for a small mixed farm while continuing to work on the orchards. Billy married a Bendigo girl, Frances, and they raised nine children. Billy certainly made his mark, beginning the 100-plus-year succession of Wong’s to play football for the Mooroopna Cats. Billy played for Mooroopna’s first recorded premiership team of 1997 a direct line that descended to his son Laurie through John down to Billy, the great, great-grandson of Mr. Wong. Not many families have this type of continuous representation.

      In 2000, Billy went on to play a club record of 312 senior games, won the Helmer award for best and fairest twice, and was three times runner-up. A quick glance at the district clubs' memberships shows that this love of football permeates throughout the Wong family.

      The youngest son, Herbert, enlisted in the Australian Army as a light horseman, was assigned to the 5th battalion of the Imperial military forces, and saw action in Africa, Gallipoli, France, and Flanders during the Great War. Upon returning, he married a Gippsland lady named Stella and settled in Shepparton, where they raised eight children. Chang Wong was for many years an early contributor to the Mooroopna hospital, a place his grandson continued to have a relationship with as a gardener and driver. Ruby Wong was also a long-term employee at the hospital. The Wong’s were also involved in the early industrialization of Mooroopna, being long-term employees at both the newly opened cannery and the post office when telephones were being introduced into the area.

      Mr. Wong passed away on the 22nd of September 1930, aged 90, but will be remembered not only by his talented offspring but by the community of Mooroopna for his contributions that range from the donation of his garden's soil to make the street gardens to his goodness of spirit.

      Alexandros Damianopoulos

      Alexandros Damianopoulos was born in the village of Batosha, in the Macedonian region of the Ottoman Empire, in June 1911. This region was largely mountainous. Most of its inhabitants were engaged in agricultural activities, growing cereal crops as well as raising sheep and goats; they also had small herds of cattle, mainly for milk. The Ottoman Empire (Turks) took control of this area in the late 14th century, and despite any military conflicts, it retained control of this area until the end of the 2nd Balkan War. At which time, as a result of the Balkan Treaty in 1913, Macedonia was divided. By the time Alex was three years old, his village had become Parori, in the Macedonian region of Greece.

      Alex was the youngest of Marko and Grosda Damianopoulos’ four children. After completing his education at the village school, he began working on the family farm with his brothers Lasaros and Ilias, his father, his grandfather, and his uncles. The family owned the village flour mill, and Alex spent many hours each day working there with his uncles. Village life was very relaxed and family-oriented. As one of the younger males in the household, Alex was sent to the local tap to fetch fresh water each day; this was where he met and fell in love with young Eleni Stalacopoulos.

      Eleni and Alex were married in 1930. Soon after, Marko (Alex’s father) bought a home for his family in the small village of Kalkliair, only a few kilometers away, as the family home in Parori was becoming very crowded. It had housed Marko’s parents, Yovan and Nomka, and their five sons, their wives, and children, and now their children were marrying and having children. At this stage, there were about seventy family members living in the house.

      By 1937, Alex and Eleni had three children: Stavrola, Anastasia, and Andonis. The family had settled into Kalkliair well, and Marko had become one of the village's important leaders. It was customary for the young men to leave Greece and go abroad to make money and improve their families' standing in the village, as the farms were little more than subsistence-level enterprises. It was at this time that Alex decided to come to Australia, leaving Eleni and the children at home in the safe care of his parents.

      Stavros Tsalacopoulos, a friend from Parori, had been in North Queensland since 1924 and was making very good money. Influenced by this, 25-year-old Alex boarded the Morton Bay for Australia on April 20, 1937, with mixed feelings: sadness for leaving his young family and excitement for the adventure that lay ahead, as he expected to return a much wealthier man in a year or two.

      Alex arrived in Brisbane with little more than his suitcase. He had been unaware that Australia was in the grips of the great depression.

      He found seasonal work cutting sugar cane in Tully. However, off-season work was hard to find. Alex was frequently found cutting wood and performing any other handyman tasks he could find for enough money to get by. Alex remained in Queensland for the short term as the wages were better; they were 1 shilling and sixpence an hour where Victorians were only getting 10 pennies, and although cane cutting was damn hard work, it was plentiful during harvesting season, and good money was to be made by those willing to work hard and for long hours.

      World War II broke out in 1939, preventing Alex, his brother Ilias, and their compatriots from returning home. They moved to Victoria to purchase a cluster of market farms at Werribee South. By 1945, the farms generated a substantial income, mainly from contracts signed with the army during the war. Alex, his brother, and their partners, now successful businessmen, sold their farms, split the profits, and transitioned away from market gardening.

      Alex and Ilias had almost given up hope of ever reuniting with their families, as they had not heard a word from them since the war began in 1939. At the end of World War II, civil war broke out in Greece, and their villages were in the thick of the fighting.

      Alex became a naturalized Australian on May 14, 1946. The brothers purchased a restaurant called The Empress in Melbourne's CBD. It provided patrons with great meals and dancing areas, as most good restaurants did at this time.

      In 1948, when Alex and Ilias received word that their families were alive and well, they immediately made provisions to bring them to the safety of Australia. They sold their interests in the restaurant and bought an orchard on Central Avenue, Shepparton, as they felt it would be a much better environment to raise their children in, and some of their countrymen had also settled in the area.

      The small children they had left behind in Greece were now teenagers. They had lived through the German occupation of their country and a civil war where brothers fought brothers and you were never too sure who the enemy was. There were even times when the villages set upon their neighbors and they were stoned to death after being suspected of collaborating with the enemy. They had gone to bed hungry many nights, like all the others in the area. But through it all, these young children found time for fun and laughter and formed some great friendships, as you do in hard times.

      When it came time to leave, their feelings were very mixed, and their hearts were filled with sadness at leaving their home, friends, and relatives behind and the fear of going to a new country and a father they could not remember. Eleni, Stavrola, Anastasia, and Andonis arrived in Sydney aboard the Partiyanka on the 11th of January 1949, and boarded a train for Benalla, where they were met by their father Alex. They traveled back to Shepparton sitting on up-turned fruit cases on the open tray of an ex-army truck, Alex’s only mode of transport. That truck took them to many local Greek dances and weddings over the coming years.

      Alex had his family with him at last. The three children assisted with orchid picking, pruning, and other tasks. The language proved to be a barrier at first, and the family mixed mainly with the other families from Greece that had settled in the area.

      Eleni and Alex were blessed with four more children, Sam, Nick, Mary, and Tom, so they bought more land to help support the growing family’s needs. Stavrola and Anastasia married and moved out of the house but remained in the area, while Andonis, as was customary in the old country, brought his new bride to live in the family home, where Alex and Eleni were able to help them raise their young children until Eleni’s sudden death from leukemia in 1962. Now the tables were turned, and Andonis and his wife Bev were there to help Alex raise the younger members of his family, as Tom, the youngest, was only six when his mother died. They lived together until Alex was remarried; his new wife was Eleni Petsonopoulos.

      Andonis and Alex were now running the business together and had set up a company, A. Dimianopoulos and Sons. The two younger boys, Sam, and Nick, soon became valuable members of the company after leaving school.

      The 1970s were a very difficult time for the local orchards; the SPC cannery wasn’t taking many William pears, and the orchardists, after all the work and money they had invested in their crops, were having to let them fall to the ground as the local markets were flooded. The government was giving financial assistance to farmers wishing to pull out of orchards, but Alex and his sons decided to build a cool store on their Grahamvale Road property so that it would give them more time to market the pears and make them less dependent on the cannery.

      For Alex’s 70th birthday, the family sent him back to Greece for a holiday, as he had never returned. The villages were not the fun, lively places that he had left many years before; they were more like ghost towns. With crumbling homes, empty streets, and even the river slowing to a trickle, only a few families remained, and many older residents couldn’t or wouldn’t leave. Most of the former inhabitants had emigrated to Australia, Canada, and the U.S.A. He came back to Australia with the assurance that this was his home.

      Alex, now in his 70s, handed most of the business over to his sons and grandsons, although he was still

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