Names from the 1950s

I met a charming lady the other day by the name of Joan Schultz.

She told me that back in the 50s she worked for a time at the Woy Woy Telephone Exchange located at the rear of the Post Office.

Because of the relatively small number of subscribers, most were known to the staff.

It was in every sense a manual exchange with retractable leads for every number.

The switchboard was manned by six girls, and whenever a light appeared on the panel, the operator would insert her plug and say: "Woy Woy Exchange - can I help you"?

The number would be given, the caller would be connected and, at the same time, the operator would record the call on a slip of paper and pass it on to the supervisor for billing purposes.

For safety reasons, the girls were only to work till 11pm when a male would take over for the night shift until 7am.

Woy Woy Pharmacy, owned by John and Lois Frew, had the distinction of being the first connected, and for many years were able to claim Woy Woy "1" as their phone number.

Leaving the Exchange, one would say hello to Bill Collins, the Postmaster, and then perhaps have a milkshake or sundae at the open air cafe run by the Van Aalderen family.

If you needed your eyes tested, you would pop in to see Newman Silverthorne who would look after you in a most courteous and unhurried manner.

Newspapers would be bought from Fairleighs Newsagency and hardware from Harry Adams or Les Howell.

The latter later sold out to Sterlands of Gosford.

Real estate was well catered for with Eric Wilson, Bruce Kerr Snr, Dal Messenger, Harold McArthur and the redoubtable Mrs Foulstone, all having offices in Woy Woy.

If you had a squabble with your neighbours or were the unfortunate victim of a rare burglary, Senior Constable Roy Cunningham or Constable Ron Steckum would efficiently and sympathetically sort out your problems and bring the miscreant to justice.

Aldertons were popular for their fish and chips, and Taylors Boatshed was the place to go if you wanted to hire a putt-putt and catch your own.

If you were feeling peckish, you could buy a decent hamburger from Arthur Anthony opposite the railway station.

However, for a real gastronomic experience, you would visit the cafe run by the Berkenji family where you could order Hungarian Goulash or a Wiener Schnitzel or, for the less adventurous, a mixed grill superbly cooked.

"Yes, the proofs will be ready on Monday", was the usual response from Arthur Young, the only professional photographer on the Peninsula.

Arthur, a quietly-spoken but highly talented photographer, covered every social occasion from annual balls, to weddings and other functions.

There was no colour photography so colouring was done by hand.

He also had a daily pickup of films from local chemists and would return the photos the following day.

The actual printing was a laborious process, with Arthur spending much of his time in the dark room.

Speaking to my contemporaries, most could recall the names of business and professional people around at that time.

I doubt very much whether in 50 years time the next generation will be able to do likewise.

Fred Landman, Daley's Point