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Martin Thompson Happy Birthday Kathy Watson Here is a picture of Linda Van Blerk and another of her husband, Harry Thomas, taken in September last year. Not the best I'm afraid and they'll probably murder me for putting such grotty photos on the board. Was the Pam Taylor that you mention from Mazabuka? If it's the same one, she passed away a few years ago. Her brother Bruce is still in Mazabuka. I wonder what happened to the Waldrons? Alexandra and her family lived next door to us on the Leopard's Hill Road in the 60's. 'Winkie' Gosling's family is still in Mazabuka, but I'm not sure where Winkie is. Heather Chalcraft (née Bender) — Click here to contact me Lusaka, Zambia Monday, February 24, 2003 at 15:02:45 (UTC)

Hi Arthur Will send these pictures one by one as two of them are quite large and I don't know if they will cause you any problems I am probably going to be in the "Dog Box" by putting the "Eldridge Girls" (current) on the GNR, but it was such a happy occasion (my eldest daughter's wedding) and we don't get together and have a photo taken often so I thought, what the hell. Left to Right: Heather Eldridge, Vivienne Eldridge, Lynthia Eldridge and Shirley Naude (whose mom was an Eldridge) I have been meaning to send you the "Garneton Gang" (GG1 and GG2) for a long while, but have only managed to get around to it now. The pictures bring back so many wonderful memories and I am sure that the GNR'ers will enjoy them and they will spark more wonderful memories as most of those pictured are known to many on the GNR. GG1: Left to Right: Sitting on the car - Bruce Thurtell, Terence Naude and Henry Novak Standing in front of the car - Peter Strydom, Graham Eldridge and Chris Hill (I'm not quite sure why the cigarettes, but they all look so cute!) GG2: Left to Right: Sitting on the Fire Truck - Graham Eldridge, Gary Eldridge, Shirley Naude, Lynthia Eldridge and Bruce Thurtell In back of truck - Vivienne Eldridge and Henry Novak Standing in front of truck - Peter Strydom, Terence Naude and Chris Hill (The pool was being filled thus the fire truck - wasn't life marvellous in those days!) Regards Viv Vivienne Jeannette Buitendag - Boksburg, South Africa Hello Arthur, My Mum unearthed the attached photo of Marymount College. I think it was taken in 1967/68. Marymount College is in Umtali (now Mutare) - actually, just east of the town itself. I do have a few names - here goes :- Ann Needham, Charlotte Joiner, Alexandra Waldron, Diedre Fitzgibbon, Denise Darey, Kathy Jackson, Chatalle, Calliope, Linda Van Blerk, Cathy L'Eclazio ( spelling ??) Jane Acton, Sandra Penfold, Lindsay Stanton, Jane Christopher, Jane Godsall, Jane Godwin, Antoinett and Joan Kufall, Pam Taylor, Robyn Farquason, Mary-Ann Acton, "Winkie" Gosling, and so many more The only message I can think of is that I had such a wonderful time there. They say your school years are the best, and in this situation they are very right. I am trying to reach a few old friends, and have managed to get in contact with one so far. Many thanks for adding this to your site - I am hopeful it will jog a few memories. Kathy Watson - Wokingham, Berkshire, United Kingdom Hi Arthur I'm one of the Eldridge Girls, in fact Viv's sister Heather. I am at long last sending you the photos which I scanned about 15 months ago, from Des Burns' collection and have been meaning to send them so that you can put them on the GNR. Grant went through them last night and tried to fill in all the names, but there are some that stumped him, but he has done pretty good. This first one is Under 14 Kitwe Boys High - 1963 Please put a little message that this one is "especially for Pappy and sorry it took so long" Des Burns Boxing 1964 From Des Burn's Collection 37 Years on. What I did with this one is a little cutting and pasting. I thought it was great to be able to have a picture of these three in the good old days, and the three of them 37 years later, quite amazing, especially when Noel is now living in Australia. The picture of the three of them taken in 2001, was taken at Richard Borejszo's place in Muldersdrift, Gauteng, RSA, while Noel was out here on a holiday. More of Des Burns's photo's. Boxing 1 and 1961 are also put on the GNR for Natasha Malan, cos they have got her Dad, Eddie Malan in them as well. The lovely lady in this photo is Marion Griffiths our Great Aunt (Heather and Vivienne's) and Mom of our very own Maz Martin. These are the last 2 old School photos that I have. Hopefully will be able to post some more a little later, I will get all the old Kitwe gang that we have here to go through their albums. Thanks Heather Knowles (nee Eldridge) - Boksburg, South Africa Northerners ! Some more great wildlife shots from Mike Wilson And also from Mike a brilliant photo taken from the top of CPC tower Nkana East Overlooking Central Street - facing north-westish Central Street is the main road at the bottom of the photo - heading leftwards is towards town, heading right is towards the Kafue River. The house on Central Street bottom right is where I learned to ride a two-wheeler bike and my friends house. Riverain School on Geddes Street can be seen - about quarter of the way down from the top and about a third of the way in from the right of the photograph. 23rd Avenue cuts across the photo leading off Central Street and you can see leading up to the right, Philip Street and then next Geddes Street. Dave tells me his house is just visible, 3rd house up from the entrance to Riverain. Kitwe slimes Dam is in the middle distance, Kitwe town centre a little further on. Fantastic pic Mike - this one brought back many memories back for me, all these roads I travelled as a youngster on my way back and to from school. As Dave Cooper said "thanks Dude" Arthur Bill Knotty Get your catty out boy ! From Peter Hills collection A good reaction to the Luanshya Map ! Next I will put up the Ndola map very soon. I have also had numerous offers of various town maps, some of them on their way to me right now, several including Lusaka and one I'm very interested to look at - Lusaka c1960. I contacted the printers of the Federal Survey maps to enquire about a map of Broken Hill, I got this reply: "Thank you for your enquiry, unfortunately we do not have such a map, this was to save printers ink, you see there was no need of a map - the road went in and then it went out before we did the by-pass. There was a railhead, a lead mine, and Boons Bar, an old skull, a tree which was left as a landmark to warn everyone approaching and .... that's it. Oh yes we nearly forgot - one petrol pump, but the attendant left for a better job ringing a bell. We would query your request for such a map, the residents were bushmen, bushwomen and a few bushwackers and wayward women from up north, stopping on occasion looking for business. After a thorough search we did come up with this post-card which may be of use which illustrate the towns "attractions". Please be warned to seek the advice of your doctor before attempting to travel here and ensure you are vaccinated for everything your GP can think of". Easy-read map of Broken Hill Thanks everyone - another brilliant round of photos! Arthur Arthur Steevens — Click here to contact me Stockport, United Kingdom Sunday, February 23, 2003 at 17:44:56 (UTC)

Chisanga My Bemba 'teacher' tells me: ichipembele is one, big rhino chipembele is just one rhino akapembele is a small rhino I too hope that history is kinder to Alice Lenshina than her contemporaries have been. I feel that the book 'Blood On Their Hands' goes a long way to exposing the true story. And there is obviously a lot to hide because according to the author, Kampamba Mulenga, there is no documentation on this in our National Archives and he had a hell of a time getting any information at all for the book. Finally had to rely on a few court records. However, most of the information came from eye-witness accounts, from members of the Lumpa Church, members of the security forces and members of the general public. He was a child of 15 at the the time and lived in the Chinsali area, but was not a member of the Lumpa Church. Hartley I have maps of Lusaka, Ndola and Kitwe as they are today and all without folds. We'll discuss and see what we can get done with them to get them onto the site. Johnny Green Chilanga is a variation of the word 'Chilongo' (don't know if I have the spelling right) which means 'punishment'. There was an open air prison at present day Chilanga and the inmates used to walk around shouting 'chilongo'. That is how Chilanga got its name. It is now part of the ZAWA headquarters. This is a picture of the inside of the prison enclosure. CJ What is happening about Charlie's Cape Town Caper? Heather Chalcraft (née Bender) — Click here to contact me Lusaka, Zambia Saturday, February 22, 2003 at 13:27:05 (UTC)

Northerners! Yesterday evening I went over to visit Peter Hills, about an hours drive away. Peter was waiting, grinning as he revealed his latest find, he knew I'd be blown away. I certainly was. On his office table were two large scale maps (3.16 inches to the mile) dated 1961 from the Department of Federal Surveys, covering Ndola and Luanshya on one map, and with Kitwe, Chingola and Mufulira on the other. Both maps are in absolute pristine condition, tucked away and nearly forgotten for over 40 years. The Kitwe Map on the GNR site is probably based on a similar Federal Survey Map - I will check with Dave Cooper tomorrow. I was going to keep these maps aside until the new GNR website was up and running, but they will take a little time to scan properly, the maps are creased on their natural folds and also need many hours of work to remove these creases digitally. So instead of waiting for months I am releasing a sort of preview before any work is carried out on them. I do not intend working on making another Kitwe map as there is no point, the one already on the site is probably the best you will ever see. Luanshya comes first - the other maps of Chingola, Mufulira and Ndola will follow soon. Please bear in mind this map has been compressed in jpeg and even so, is still a large image at 880kb (the average image posted on the message board is around 30-40kb). When the image has opened right click on it and save it on your computer to save it if you wish. It is not even near it's best and will be replaced in the future when I have worked on it. If anyone has access to, or knows of any people who can vacuum scan large dimension documents in the UK I would like hear from you. I intend to get these maps in high resolution and on to CD for distribution to the members of the GNR. This is another score for the Copperbelt! All the waiting images I have are also Copperbelt. It is no use complaining that the Copperbelt dominates if members do not send their images for posting. Has anyone a good detailed maps of Lusaka, Broken Hill, Livingstone etc etc.? Come on you people ! Luanshya - 1961 - Department of Federal Survey Map - Federation of Rhodesia and Nyasaland From the collection of Peter Hills. To those who have sent images in for the site and are awaiting their posting please be patient. I know you will all understand. Thank you Peter Thank you Craig Arthur Arthur Steevens — Click here to contact me Stockport, United Kingdom Wednesday, February 19, 2003 at 23:02:02 (UTC)

Mary Fisher, Russell Volk, Madeleine Luckin Happy Birthday What A Disaster``` On Monday I thought I would take a quick trip to Blue Lagoon National Park. 'What? In the middle of the wet season?' I can hear you asking. Well ... just a few weeks ago, I received a press release from the WWF saying that the road had now been repaired, so I figured it should be fine. But it wasn't. I got about three-quarters of the way there to find an enormous mud patch and when we walked through it, we sunk up to our knees and there was no way round it. I decided to be sensible and turned back. But we did see a few interesting things along the way: The Mwembeshi River A false Baobab (I can't remember its proper name right now) and some Marabou storks We also stopped in at one of the game farms on the way back for lunch Alix Bemba - icipembele Kaonde - kipembele Lozi - sukulu Lunda - insontu Luvale - soto Nyanja - chipembele Tonga - chipembele Chipembele was the nickname given to Sir Stewart Gore-Browne of Shiwa Ng'andu. Chisanga Puta-Chekwe I agree with you - neither of the parties have a full appreciation of what is going on. There are a few individuals who do, but they are lonely voices. Marion ALice Lenshina's true name was Alice Lenshina Mulenga Lubusha. She was born in the early 1920's in Senior Chief Nkula's area of Chinsali. Nkula is a Bemba chiefdom on the loop of the lower Lubu River near the Lubwa River, at the far end of the Muchinga Escarpment. Alice was from Kasomo Village. Her father was a relative of Paramount Chief Chitimukulu, Senior Chief Nkulu Chewe and Chief Mukwikile. Her mother was Musungu Chimba who was also of royal blood. She was not executed. She died a natural death after being incarcerated for many years. She was arrested in Kasama on 11 August 1964 and spent her time in various different prisons around Zambia including Mumbwa, Livingstone, Chingombe and Kalabo. Despite being arrested in 1964, she was only served with grounds of detention in 1970. In 1973, a Tribunal was held to review her continued detention. The Tribunal ruled that her detention had been unlawful and that she should be released. However, instead of being released she was transferred to Mukobeko Maximum Security Prison in Kabwe. She was finally released from there on 23 December 1975, but was not allowed to leave Lusaka. From then until the beginning of 1978 she lived in a house in Chilenje, Lusaka where she was, effectively, under house arrest. On 7 December 1978 she died peacefully in her home. But even then, it did not end. The authorities would not release her body for burial. Finally, on 15 December 1978 she was put to rest in the small house built on the site of the demolished Kamutola Church. A bed was placed in the house and the roof was sealed. A small pigeon hole was left to allow fresh air to enter the hut. I also question whether everything about Alice Lenshina was 'to a negative end'. Her main crime, as far as I can see, was because her followers were asked to abstain from politics. Was this such a bad thing? And her religion - was it not a good thing as it was a truly African church and not something that was foisted on them by foreigners? Certainly, telling her followers that they would be protected from bullets was not right, but was the intimidation and violence unleashed on them by UNIP not the start of it all? Heather Chalcraft (née Bender) — Click here to contact me Lusaka, Zambia Wednesday, February 19, 2003 at 14:05:49 (UTC)

Betty Mahady, Ian Kyle and Muriel Westmore Happy Birthday for yesterday. Ann Atkinson, Ian Errington and Ken MacLeod Hayy Birthday for today. Tina Magee A number of them stayed on and are now in business here. I'm in the process of catching up with some of them, getting their stories including Rocky who is always proud to show his four-fingered hand and tell us how the other finger is in the dam wall at Kariba. Chisanga Puta-Chekwe Went back to look for something on the January message board and saW your comment about Richard Hall and the Lenshina crisis. There is an excellent book which was published a couple of years ago about the Lenshina crisis. It is entitled 'Blood On Their Hands'. Can't remember who the author is (my copy is at home), but is was extremely interesting and, I think, fairly written. But it, very clearly, laid the blame at UNIP's door. Another interesting book was written by John Hudson, entitled 'A Time To Mourn' which gives his account. He was DC at Isoka at the time. Last year in April, I went up to Chinsali and visited the remains of Sion and Alice's mausoleum. It must have been a beautiful church. The church still operates, I think under the name of New Jerusalem. I shall have to check in the book. I know I still owe you a reply to your email - I'll try to get around to it in the next few days. Ken Miller Reading your comment about Barbara Hall's collection of letters reminded me of a columnist, Kapelwa Musonda, who used to write, every Tuesday, for the Times of Zambia. A collection of his columns was published and I have scanned one for you. I've just managed to lay my hands on a copy of Richard Hall's book, Zambia, published in 1965. I have employed a young man who is travelling out to all the villages and buying old books that deal with Zambia's history. It's amazing what he has found. JUST WHO IS THIS GUY CALLED GOVERNMENT? During a motion to give a vote of thanks to His Excellency's speech opening the current session of Parliament members took advantage of the occasion to launch some criticism on the Government. The Government was accused of failure of rural development projects, shortage of medical facilities and lack of proper control of public funds. As I read the speeches in the daily paper, I couldn't help concluding that whoever this guy Government was, he was responsible for all the ills which this country was going through. My curiosity to meet him and find out his reaction to all these speeches of accusation intensified. Who the hell is this guy Government who my MP claims is inefficient, haughty, slows down development, mishandles funds and considers himself a god and not a servant of the people? A few days ago, while filling up our car with some petrol, I solicited some information of him from the petrol attendant. 'Does the guy Government ever come up here for his supply of fuel?' I asked. 'He comes to this station, very often,' he replied. 'You have met him then?' 'Never, he always sends one of his several employees. He must have thousands of vehicles. I am not surprised that he has difficulties maintaining them.' 'I presume you have heard that he is not very popular with Members of Parliament.' 'He is not popular with our chief accountant either. He doesn't pay his bills on time.' 'Do you know if he is a man or woman?' 'I wouldn't know, I have never met him, I told you.' The other day I was negotiating with a headmaster of our local school. I was trying to induce him to squeeze into the first grade one of my dependants. 'My good man,' he said, 'I just can't do it. All places are completely filled up. I suggest you tell the Government to build more schools.' 'I would if I met the guy. Do you know where I can find him?' The headmaster threw up his arms: 'I work for him but I have never met the guy.' 'He has been under fire recently by Members of Parliament,' I told him. 'He has always been under fire by members of my staff. I am sure if he appeared at this school, they would tear him apart.' 'What has he done to this school?' 'My teachers claim he underpays them, gives them shoddy or no housing and doesn't provide enough funds for the - maintenance of the school buildings and the surroundings.' Next I talked to a man who was driving a GRZ vehicle. 'You do drive him around then?' I asked. 'Never, just some of his employees.' 'But this is his vehicle.' 'It certainly is, but he never uses it.' 'I presume you have heard of the criticism levelled against him by Members of Parliament?' 'There was nothing new in what they said. The people I carry are always saying some nasty things about him.' 'What do they say?' 'Everything that is going wrong, they blame it on him.' 'There is a serious shortage of cooking oil now in the country .' 'They blame that on him too.' 'I have talked to thousands of people during the past few days. Lawyers, peasants, street sweepers, civil servants, nurses, barmaids, doctors and loafers. Everyone knows a great deal about him and has a bone to pick with him but none has ever met him. Finally I thought I should ask Comrade Bonzo. If he didn't know, then I felt I would conclude that such a character just doesn't exist and is just imaginary, a figure you would blame for everything that is wrong. 'Comrade,' I said one evening as we were having our last round, 'you know almost everybody around, have you ever met a guy popularly referred to as Government. He may go by other names but everybody calls him this.' 'Of course I have.' 'I would like to meet him, do you think you can arrange an introduction? That wouldn't be necessary. If you want to meet him all you have to do is go where he usually sits.' And where is that? 'A big copper-plated house on the hill in Olympia park.' 'That's strange, but that's where all the speeches criticising his misdeeds were being made the whole of last week.' 'That's very much like him all right. Always shifting blame on someone else. Right now because of the mess we are in, he is trying to pretend he is not the Government.' Bonzo drained his glass of beer. 'But let's not be too hard on him, he brews very good beer.' 'Is he in the brewing business too?' 'That's right, but he would be much happier if we didn't drink the stuff. That's him, comrade, that's him, go to the copper-plated big house up the hill, you will find him seated there.' The following day, I went to Parliament and approached the first MP I saw at the door. 'You are an MP,' I said. 'Yes, for Lusaka North-East constituency.' 'I hear you are also known as the Government.' 'I am not the Government,' he explained, 'I am merely my constituency's watchdog to ensure that the Government runs the country to the satisfaction of my people.' 'Who then is the Government?' 'I have never met the fellow. Most of us Members of Parliament would like him to come and answer a few questions. . .' Scanned from The Best Of Kapelwa Musonda Ian Singer About Codrington - thanks for the directions. I know exactly where the Mazabuka Club is (and yes, it's still there and still operating much as it did way back then). I'll go in there next time I go through Maz. I imagine it is still a school. Gareth Williams Some time ago, probably a year or more, someone asked about Gareth Williams and I said I would get his email address. Well surprise, surprise, I have finally done it. But I can't find who it was that asked me for it. Please contact me. Heather Chalcraft (née Bender) — Click here to contact me Lusaka, Zambia Thursday, February 13, 2003 at 11:28:42 (UTC)

CJ Please beam across the scan, I'm interested. Last time I was in Margate a Rand was worth 10 bob. I expect that has changed a little. BH as you probably know celebrates it's Centenary year in 2004 - How about an article from you to go with the rest of the stuff we're planning to do on the town? Have you any more photos hidden away? Yeas - that sure made me feel a little better! Chris & Ali Please stop moaning about how hot it is, our thermometer got up to 8c today for the first time since August 2002. Still waiting for the sun to make an appearance though - but we may have to wait until one day in August once again. Ali glad to see you're getting better. I can't answer your question about Kitwe just now - I am from Nkana East of course, so I will have to get the answer from the people that lived on the wrong side of the town. Doug I've had no proper fishing since November last, the spring salmon should be on the run any day soon - only trouble is regulations now say if you catch one it has to go back if caught before mid June. This is because of a decline in numbers of springers due to overfishing at sea. I read somewhere that Spanish trawlers can use nets up to 30 miles long. Then we have the anti's becoming more and more prominent and active here, is it any wonder I need to move to a civilised country! I got a superb springer of around 20lbs last year on the River Eden in Cumbria, pine forest right up to the river edge, nobody for miles and on my own, the only sound was the river and perigrine falcons calling high above plus an odd deer for company at the river bank. When the weather allows I have been doing a spell of shore fishing on the coast for codling up to about 5lb but even these are becoming scarce and will go on the protected species list before long. I heard Graham Nelson aka Scarscalp is permanently moving up to Cumbria shortly, hopefully we can get together wet a line and take in a few beers. Craig sits right on top of some of the best fishing in the world. I don't think he's ever caught a proper fish though. Go figure. To put the record straight I have had no complaints directly about anyone recently, but thanks for the support. Linda My next trip fishing away from home I hope is for some Zambian Tigerfish and maybe a Vundu. Just hope I can get hold of some blue soap when I get there. Texan Bass will have to wait until my lottery ticket comes up. We have been very active over recent months, weeks and days putting together the new GNR and I spend a lot of my time that I allocate the GNR there. Craig and Laurie (the star web designer Craig has managed to get on help out) have come up with what I think is a brilliant message board, still on test, but if it fits the bill people can have topics on different subjects so that may go a long way to assure anyone who is worried about posting what where and no comebacks. It also has many other facilities which I think will go down well with the membership, and also the management, but I have said enough already, it may not be the final choice - you'll all just have to wait and see but personally I think it will go most of the way to addressing the many points people made on the site in the survey we did last year. (Which you will all see soon) In the meantime I'm also working on getting all the photos from the archived message boards into some sort of order so they can go into the new organised photo albums on the site where they will be indexed and easy to find and see, I also have quite a bit of stuff archived which has not gone on the GNR yet, so organising that is on my list to do as well. I would add that anyone who has school photos, memorabilia and other stuff they would think as suitable for display on the website to start getting them over to me now. As I said before the salmon should be on their way any day now. Linda Burns Guess what ! - The new message board we're experimenting with also has an "undo" key and also allows you to see your posting before you press the submit button so you can correct any mistakes. We specially included that in because we have so many members who went to Frederick Knapp. I guess from your posting you have typed your message directly onto the open pane on the posting routine, you may find it easier, if you type slow like me, to write your message out on your computer before going on-line and logging onto the GNR. I use Windows based system, right click and create yourself a new Text document and type out your message, then when you go on line just copy and paste into the GNR pane when submitting your message. Last September Heather posted up some brilliant pics from up in Mpulungu. Unfortunately at the time she didn't have the sprit level I gave her and all the boats on the lake had slid down the slope of the lake which was emptying out on the left of the photo. I clocked the photo the other day when I was downloading a batch of images from the server and also noticed another Heather had taken with it to the right. They were a candidate for another photo stitching exercise so again ...... Mpulungu. Well that's enough levelling from me for at least a month. Here's something below much more interesting from the members. Arthur Heather: I always understood that "Chililabombwe" meant "Place of the Croaking Frog" In the 1960's, and possibly before that, there was a swinging nightclub in Bancroft(the old name for Chililabombwe township), called "The Croaking Frog". Unfortunately, I don't have a photo, old or new, for the nightspot; perhaps some other Rhodies can help out with pics or sordid stories thereof. Bob Allan - Melbourne Hi Arthur, I'm looking for some information. Perhaps Heather could help. On entering the Luangwa Valley from the West, just before dropping into the valley from the Muchinga Escarpment, there is this plaque to Mary Gough. I believe she used to cycle around the valley and in 1971 she went missing. Her campsite was found in disarray but Mary was never found. I've attached a photo of the plaque. Kind Regards, Mike Wilson Northerners ! You may have seen Alma and Vic's story a few months ago "The Letter" Members Alma and Vic are old timers and have given us this wonderful story to enjoy about Vic's first journey overland to Northern Rhodesia. Once the new site is up and running this article will go into it's proper slot along with quite a few others so they don't become buried away here. Alma and Vic On behalf of the Members of the Great North Road - Thank you. Arthur The following was written for Anthony Sauri who wished to be reminded of Vic’s’ departure from the UK and arrival (eventually) in Central Africa. As regards Vic leaving the UK. (Early 1947) He went to buy a new Triumph 500 when they were advertised again post-war. (Late 1946) Seeking some adventure etc. I think (he was consistently refused permission to enlist in the Navy because of his ‘reserved occupation’). He decided to see something of the UK and spice up his life? The waiting list was long and frustrated he returned home, and on the tram he happened to read andad. For an" overland adventure trip to Johannesburg" and investigated. He signed to join in with the group already preparing by converting the Morris commercial trucks with bunks etc. And proceeded to help set up the trucks in his spare time and as the story tells, joined the expedition with quite a number of other folk. (He was the only single person). They had lots of ‘adventures’ as one would imagine with such a varied group of people -- who fell out, argued, and threw things as well as tantrums now and again. All split from the main group at different times, eventually leaving just the Weldon family and Vic to go it alone. Vic could not leave the family -- his conscience wouldn’t let him because Weldon himself kept getting malaria (also had a hernia operation at one time) and ending up in hospital somewhere. Mrs. Weldon and children could not be left alone! They were stranded in the Sahara for 3 months at one point after a crown wheel and pinion broke and had to await parts from the UK. Vic used the time as ‘messenger’ cadging lifts over the desert with various Arab drivers, eating and sleeping ‘Arab style’ and eventually getting the much needed crown wheel etc from Algiers and returned to the oasis and a repair job (ask him about the sandstorms and trying to fix an engine, sometime). Eventually, many stops (at mission stations if they could) ferry rides African style, rutted roads, and rainy season in the Nigeria, Congo etc. They arrived at Brazzaville (I think this was where they traded their converted truck for a station wagon) and completed the next part of the trip into Northern Rhodesia (British territory). By now they were almost broke because of the length of time involved. Vic had five pounds (sterling) left in total. When the NR Immigration asked about his cash reserves they were startled when he said ten pounds --- ‘we’ll give you 2 weeks to get a job or we will deport you back to the UK’ He cadged a lift from Ndola to Nkana because somebody told him he would get a job on the Copper mines easily. I’m not sure how he got a job really because he must have looked more like a ragged African than a European. After hearing his story the Mine Manager (Clark I think at that time- 1947), first astonished and then amused. He laughed and said "we are bringing men out from the UK by air, you could have come in comfort" -- and gave him a job...that is a very basic outline of how Vic went to Nkana. Needless to say he had soon spent his Five English pounds (he bought a block of chocolate to eat at one stage and stashed it in his shirt front -- needless to say with disastrous results!) (He did not have the amount he quoted to the Immigration) the guys in Single Quarters took him to the Kitwe stores, introduced him as a workmate employed by the mining company and he opened an account for clothes, bedding etc and so he was able to survive on credit (including the Mess for eating) until his first pay cheque! It would take a long long time to fit in all the details and it is HIS story not mine. Suffice to say he did indeed have lots of adventures of one kind and another but always said he wouldn’t have missed it because it really was an adventure and experience that money cannot buy. So at that stage he never did get to Jo’burg but of course WE all got there as a family in 1954 on our way back from visiting the UK and again in 1956 on holiday. How Vic and I met in Ireland in 1950 is another story entirely. Now, I have decided to keep this item (also print it off) because I realise it is a story that our children do not know -- never having asked -- but who knows at some stage when they are much older, they may wonder? How/when/why their father went to Africa. Another piece of info. Regarding the photos of our rather hasty departure from Nkana on the night of the Railway workers strike in 1954 -- thereby jeopardising our long planned holiday to the UK The other two couples who left with us, and extremely grateful for the work put in by Vic to secure a truck and driver were: Mr and Mrs Les Pegge, and Mr and Mrs? Dunne (both mine employees of course) The pewter beer tankard was given to Vic aboard ship when they made a nice little speech thanking Vic most sincerely for his presence of mind and quick thinking thereby -- saving their holiday as well as ours. I have written a story about this episode too - with a rueful twist in the tail! Alma Dawson John (Vic) Dawson's overland trip to Africa Jan/Sept 1947 A TV programmed was showing ‘Dunnies down Under, ’ and it is Sunday, February 02, 2003 This has sparked off our interest in the old time dunnies (lavatories/ latrines to you) Vic reminisced about watching a ‘dunny’ being dug in Hassifal (in the Sahara Desert). This was an Oasis where their overland truck had been towed to after it broke a crown-wheel and pinion near Ghardia - about 65 miles from Hassifal.. The Oasis was ‘manned’ by a lone Gendarme -- name of Georges -- who had a resident lady friend. However, Vic used to while away time chatting with him, until the Commandant arrived on a visit. When he realized the Gendarme was rather pally with me, he said ‘Non’ -- no fraternization -- get on with the job. The Gendarme was obviously glad of young company and a ‘foreigner’ who added another dimension to his world! The families lived in their trucks as usual but adjacent to this oasis, and obviously needed the lavatory and water that it provided. I always slept in the Cab of the truck -- a Morris Commercial with motor inside the cab. In this way I had more privacy and separate from the Weldon and Daniels families. (I was of course the only single man on the journey). The next job needed was a new ‘dunnie’ (latrine, or lavatory). First a deep hole at least 6 ft was dug, then a plaited rush/bamboo style mat --with centre hole of course, was laid over the ground -- next a low (3ft)? wall was built for ‘privacy’ (No roof of course). There was always something happening -- travellers passed by and stopped to socialise, obtain water etc. all the time and ‘news’ of desert travellers and happenings, passed along like wildfire in this fashion. Weldon had strayed into very soft sand and hence broke the Crown wheel and Pinion on our truck, then talked a passing tanker driver into using the winch on Weldon truck to pull the it out and help park it on safe ground. Next -- what to do about it? Go back to Algiers says Weldon (hitch a ride on passing vehicle of course) so he and I went -- leaving Mrs Weldon and children at the Oasis. The Daniels family of four was also there. Once back in Algiers and shopping around for an engineer to make a Crown wheel and Pinion, Weldon remembered a friend in UK who had a similar truck -- wired him for a replacement to be sent by LEP transport. Days passed and it was decided to return to the Oasis and await a message per truck driver perhaps? I got fed up and used to hitch rides back and forth across the desert, eating with the locals, whatever was going. About this time there was some kind of ‘family altercation’ and the one Weldon daughter ‘ran away’ into the desert (say 9 years old). . Great consternation, as she soon disappeared and darkness not far away. Everybody, including the Gendarme and one his local workers had to rush to help find her. The incident ended just in time before darkness fell, but one side affect was that Mrs Weldon had a stroke a few days later, - from the shock I guess. A Dr came from somewhere within the next day or so and ‘; treated’ her on the spot and she recovered -- fortunately! The Daniels family had become tired of the delay and decided to move on regardless and plan their next move. They went as far as El Golea in the first instance. After they had gone Weldon realised Daniels had all travellers’ cheques with him and sent me off to get them back (using the ‘can I have a ride’? system of the desert fraternity.). Daniels returned with me, as HE wanted his share out of the travelling fund. Some argument ensued and eventually Weldon got the cheques and Daniels departed. Months later this ‘transaction’ was to have repercussions when it was found that Daniels had ‘stopped’ the cheques -- as stolen’ and naturally this was a big problem for the remaining party. Whilst I was at El Golea talking Daniels and having a quick look around I couldn’t help but notice the overpowering smell of citrus fruit and the vast number of citrus trees. These were ‘irrigated’ by canal-like channels with constantly running water. Eventually I took delivery of the new crown wheel and Pinion in Algiers and parked the booty on the tray of the truck I thought I was to travel with. It transpired that the driver left without me and I had to grab a lift with a ‘following truck driver’ who tried to catch up with the walkabout crown wheel etc. As this truck was travelling overnight there wasn’t much to see and I marvelled at the ability of the Arab driver - but suddenly we hit a bump and all the lights failed! And we had to sit it out until daylight and the driver could hail a passing truck driver. I did get the crown wheel etc. Eventually after this extra delay, and Weldon and I fitted it, and at last we were on our way again. The town of El Golea was next and even though I had actually been there before when looking for Daniels, I was again struck by the overpowering scent of Citrus from hundreds of citrus trees thriving at this oasis. As we approached In-Salah it seemed that this famed ‘walled town’ was something of a misnomer as all that could be seen was a very LOW wall and no buildings. The track meandered down a kind of ravine and around this wall. To our surprise when we had partly circled the place, a large gate came into view in a HIGH wall, of perhaps 15’ or so. It seemed that the sand was blown up on the trackside of the town and only the top portion of the wall was visible! All the petrol pumps were closed down as this was the ‘off season’ in the Sahara (this means that as it is so very hot, desert travel was said to be dangerous and so we had to find a trader and do a deal for some of his petrol in 44gal. drums as we intended to press on regardless. I think we traded our small compressor for fuel. In the Sahara it was common to see tall wooden poles at about 5km intervals as ‘route markers’, but often the locals had purloined them for firewood or whatever. The next system tried by the authorities was to use the front mudguards from abandoned wartime trucks (of which there were plenty) to do the same job. Unfortunately, the shifting sand frequently covered these mounds and then it was ‘guesswork’ as usual! TAMANRASSET - another sizeable town. From some miles back we came across an area that was extremely rocky -- all shapes, sizes and colours, and it was rather like a slalom course driving around and through them. Tamanrasset itself was situated on a rocky plateau (the town being run by the French military). We visited some Arabs sitting in an Arabic style tent dwelling to discuss petrol supplies and currency. We had found that we needed to change from Algerian francs to French Equatorial currency. As visitors we were given ‘director’ style chairs to sit on whilst our hosts sat cross-legged on Arab style on cushions. The military allowed us all to swim in their ‘rock swimming pool’; which was in effect a hole in the rocky ground -- this was a great treat for us all. At this stop (Tamanrasset) we had to stock up on a specified amount of drinking water each person and to ‘sign out’ as we departed for AGADEZ. Four days would be allowed for us to arrive and announce our arrival to the military -- otherwise they would send out a search party for us if this time allowance was exceeded). Immigration was very strict about these rules. AGADEZ: As we had now left Algerian territory we had our Passports stamped for entry into French Equatorial Africa. We stayed for about seven days in Agadez, making use of the showers at a hotel -- water being supplied by 44-gallon drums on scaffolding outside the rooms. The workers from smaller drums in turn refilled these drums and it was a highlight of our stay to have these showers. During the evening meal one night at the Hotel we were given a quantity of plain boiled rice in the shape of a ‘cake’. This so annoyed Weldon (who didn’t like rice) that he got up and walked out, the family and myself trailing behind. He then rented a large desert style house (baked mud), where other desert travellers also rented space. By now we had left the desert behind and came upon an area of tall spindly trees. On the move again into Nigeria and we headed for Kano and again we had to fill in Immigration forms. Kano is the railhead for transporting ground-nuts (peanuts if you like) and is a very large bustling town, with its own airport. There were vast ‘pyramids’ of groundnuts sitting out in the open waiting to be moved by rail to the port of Lagos. Kano is another walled city but the population had long outgrown the walls and the ‘outside’ city was every bit as large as the ‘inside’ one. Kano had thirteen (13) gates in its walls -- which were closed at curfew time each evening and all vehicles then had to stay outside until the gates opened again in the morning. Foot traffic only could enter through a small gate in each of the large gates. One area in Kano was dotted with round pits (say 3-4’ in diameter) filled with dark blue dye. This was of course used by Tuaregs to dye their habitual blue garments. The dye workers were easily identified by their blue hands and arms. In Kano there was a resident Emir -- who it seemed, was paid Five thousand pounds per annum by the British government to ‘rule’ and keep law and order, in their name. There were hand-operated (lever) petrol pumps in Kano for travellers such as ourselves but the common mode of transport locally was by large rubber-tyred trailers which were pushed by a gang of 3-4 Africans. Seemingly we were becoming an embarrassment to the authorities and we were told it was time we moved on. As we drove on again the ground cover became more of’jungle’ type vegetation, very humid and verdant. Lots of Banana plants began to appear and then Jos was the next place we entered. This was a tin-mining area, a smallish town. A local trader made us an offer for our truck (Morris Commercial three-tonner) plus the use of his garage to do the maintenance that Weldon deemed would be necessary for us to proceed with the rest of our journey. Weldon considered this offer, and decided that the Ford Station Wagon was adequate for the meantime, especially as it would be a quicker ride and the majority of the journey was behind us. So the deal was done (and the relevant paper work doctored to suit the exchange). From now on we would rely on Mission stations or local ‘hotels’ for accommodation. The spindly tree type of terrain of the last day or two gave way to semi-tropical undergrowth again and a few banana plants and we soon arrived in Maiduguri where we met a European man who was a Civil Servant working with the Border Control. During a conversation with him he invited us all for dinner at his house and afterwards he stamped our Passports ‘ Seen in transit’. We were now getting near Fort Lamy but first we had to cross a river, which flowed, into Lake Chad. As it was ‘Bastille Day’ the vehicular ferry was not working, but I crossed over on a passenger ferry -- more immigration and stamping of Passports. I whiled away a pleasant interlude, watching natives on a wharf cutting up fresh fish for sale before taking the ferry back again. We were now in the French Cameroons and every river had dugout type boats paddled by Africans (there were no bridges to be found). This meant of course that the ‘ferries’ were dugouts lashed together with boards between and very flimsy looking -- but we made it. At one time we were speeding along a "road’ and down a sudden dip and whoops --the brakes were slammed on and we were into the River. The radiator and distributor were under water! The ferry was on the other side of course, as always seemed to be the case. The Africans came across but we needed help to push the vehicle back up onto dry land and the next day we had to make a fire and dry out the distributor before we could proceed. Time didn’t matter much and at one river crossing it took two days to get across the river -- time being spent filling up the petrol tank (laboriously drum by drum), crossing over and back again as passengers to fill in more forms, and finally taking the vehicle across. After Fort Lamy we covered about one-hundred and fifty miles (150) and then came upon a very large Catholic Church in a clearing -- named ‘Fort Auchambault’. It seemed that probably the local natives were put to work and grew vegetables, fruit etc, and the money (or part of it) went to the Church, which by the looks of things was a very rich one. We met up with many big game hunters in this area, and enjoyed quite a few conversations as we exchanged information as to the condition of roads, facilities etc. and other snippets of news. We were making our way to cross into the Belgian Congo and having trouble with the tyres on the ‘shooting brake’ and were told that there was a place that dealt in tyres at ‘Bangui’ and also that there was a ferry to cross into the Congo. We duly arrived in Bangui and found the tyre depot and did a deal for new tyres. But were then informed that the road on the other side of river was under water and therefore advised to turn around and to back to Fort Sibut (about 600 kms) and cross into the Congo at Bangassou which meant another two-three days. Again time didn’t matter much and we had good tyres now. There were now bananas everywhere, both sides of the road, and eventually we camped on the riverbank at Bangassou. Petrol was our first consideration here and Weldon and I went across by ferry to have Passports stamped, details registered, before re-crossing the river to collect vehicle and family and cross yet again by vehicular ferry (another full day taken up here because it depended on the current, sometimes having to be poled ‘upstream’ and then the ferry allowed to ‘drift’ back again, sometimes twice before we gained the far bank). This was the nature of the terrain and each river crossing was different according to how wide, or deep the river was and strength of current. We came upon a small village by name of ‘Bondo’ sporting a very large sign ‘COCA-COLA’ fastened to a tree -- it seemed rather incongruous in the middle of jungle-like terrain. Here we bought some tinned food and pressed onwards to Stanleyville. The roads now were ‘one way’ only all along an escarpment. The system was say North (Monday) South (Tuesday) and so on. At night with headlights ON you could take a chance either way! (Scary)! Eventually we passed a very large sign ‘EQUATOR’ which indicated the elevation. It was extremely cold that night and we lit a big fire at the Rest House. Lake Kivu. Steamers were too expensive for us so we motored around a lava field to Costermansville which was a really ‘swept up’ place, nice houses made of brick with tiled roofs, (European homes that is) pretty gardens etc. The gardens apparently maintained by prisoners and we had met up with the system of prison labour on roads etc. on a number of occasions. About this time the car developed a list to one side and an investigation showed the main spring seemed to be broken and so we limped into the next clearing with a workshop/garage. The European who ran the business had very recently lost his wife to Backwater fever and consequently was bereft and very lonely. Whilst Weldon and I removed the spring to make repairs he talked to us, and we then found that it wasn’t the spring that was broken but the centre bolt that had sheared off. This man was most helpful and soon we were on our way again after a three-day stopover. It was noticeable that there was plenty of fresh elephant dung around but we didn’t see any animals at this stage. Then we struck torrential rain every day for about a week and we took shelter in native style huts, grass walls, banana leaf roofs and deep mud everywhere. The rain eventually stopped and we could press on -- we had no maps of any kind but always coped with asking and many hand-gestures etc. the same with trying to buy petrol. The trading stores carried seemingly everything. Including petrol, then one time we filled up the car, and a couple of spare containers and carried on going southwards -- then we met a number of big trucks going north laden with 44 gallon drums of petrol! We learned that petrol was much cheaper at the next town! Oh well, ‘win some, lose some’. Similarly when changing English pounds for local currency -- the banks didn’t give as good a deal as the traders would. Often when dealing with a local trader we would be invited to lunch or offered accommodation overnight. At one stage we stayed at a Coffee plantation and my job was to fill the petrol tank and be ready for off early next morning. Whilst the folks were talking I got on with the job pouring petrol from a can to the tank. Just then Weldon came outside to look and said "you need some light’ and brought a lantern close up --immediately the fumes ignited. Fortunately I banged the petrol cap onto the tank of the vehicle and as the flames licked up my arms I hurled the can away -- it rolled down the driveway singeing many plants as it went. My arms were burning, but as the petrol burned first we were able to beat out the flames and layer on some cream and bandaged my right-hand. For two weeks I had to eat with a spoon! Soon after this incident we arrived at a large Mission station with a number of missionaries and there was quite a lot of accommodation. We were shown where to sleep, cot style beds provided. I elected to sleep on the floor and went to get my blanket but this caused quite a stir and Non! Non! Much arm waving and incomprehensible rapid French. Another cot was brought plus a mosquito net and it was indicated that I sleep on THAT! So I acquiesced and peace reigned. Waking early the next morning and looking around I found that the ground was alive with creepy crawlies of every description -- and realised this was why I was not allowed to sleep on the floor! After a two-day respite here spent quite pleasantly it was time to move on again. It soon became obvious that we were approaching a town of some sort because the Africans we passed were all dressed (shirts, shorts and the women ‘wrap around’ fabric dresses and similar, instead of the nakedness that was usual in the bush. Sure enough, a couple of hours down the ‘road’ there would be a town of some sort and after passing through, the natives would again be in various stages of ‘undress’. Soon we realised that we were approaching Katanga, a copper mining area with power stations and yes, within a few days we could see a large town, brick houses etc, and this was Jadotvillel. No problems here and we were soon on quite good roads and saw power pylons -- the first since leaving Algiers months previously. There was an abundance of power it seems and we learned that any surplus was sent forward to Elizabethville, which was the next large town. Problems arose here, as there were no guesthouses for us to use. We eventually found a school run by the ‘Springer Mission’ an American organisation. It transpired that the school was in recess and we were loaned a couple of schoolrooms to sleep in -- so again we had a roof over our heads. The very next day Weldon came down with another bout of Malaria and was in a really bad way and was soon admitted to the Catholic hospital. We had been experiencing rear spring problems with the car and also money problems as our ‘supply’ was fast running out! I went to see the British Consul who was a very nice person but I didn’t get very far really because I was in effect only the ‘message boy’ as Weldon actually ran the show. Once Harry Weldon recovered from the bout of Malaria we fixed the car with the help of the Ford agency workshop and the Consul met with Weldon. He actually gave Harry a One Hundred Pound ‘personal loan’, explaining that he could not sanction an official loan because Weldon owned a vehicle and was therefore ‘not destitute’, and moreover we were close to the Northern Rhodesian border which was British Territory! Once again we were on our travels and left the Congo and into a ‘no mans land’; with big concrete blocks showing the Border between the two territories. Soon we arrived at the town of Ndola, quite a sizeable place and apparently the ‘railhead’ in Northern Rhodesia of the Cape to Cairo railway. As English was now the main language we got along much faster with officialdom. However when the Immigration Officer interviewed me and asked how much money I had? I replied ‘ten pounds Sterling’, he looked at me rather oddly and said ‘ In view of the parlous state of your finances (or words to that effect) I will allow you SEVEN DAYS to find work, otherwise you will be sent back to the U.K.! (Well that what was HE said, I privately thought otherwise)! We were fortunate to find to be loaned rooms to sleep in by the ‘Sallies’ in Ndola and leaving the family here, Weldon and I went to a place named Luanshya where it was said ‘there should be plenty of work’. Harry immediately got a job with the Rhodesian Selection Trust (the Luanshya Mining company) and returned to Ndola to pick up his family. Now I was ‘on my own’ and hitched a ride in a passing ‘imp’ style car (i.e. an American two door job with a dickie --seat outside). The guys asked me’ where to’ and I said Luanshya (the only name I knew then) - stopping at the turn-off they said, "we are going on to Nkana-Kitwe and you are just as likely to find work there" and so the die was cast, I went with them to Nkana. My good Samaritans stopped outside the Mine Mess (dining hall) and said ‘ go inside, you are sure to find some fellow Englishmen in there). On entering (conscious of my somewhat scruffy appearance) and scanning the room, I immediately spotted two men I had last seen in the Sahara months before...Greetings all round and a place set for me at their table. So I was given a ‘free’; meal with congenial company -- never had food tasted so good! One of my ‘friends’ said ‘ where are you staying’? On learning that so far I had nowhere to stay, he promptly said, " I am going on nightshift, you can have my bed and we’ll see what tomorrow brings". I slept like a baby and the following morning, after a shower I walked all around the Mine workings and called at the various site offices asking for work. No luck! Until one man said ‘Try the Central Time Office’ and provided directions. My efforts paid off as I was interviewed by the General Manager himself, Clark, who, on hearing both my application and my story, laughed and said ‘ Why didn’t you apply from London we have been flying men out from there’? - To my knowledge they were not advertising when I made the decision to go to Africa! Thus armed with a brief for the Refinery Manager and now having the security of a position on the Mine, I was given accommodation (room B 24, Single Quarters, Nkana) and knew I would now have three meals a day. One of men in Quarters (Theodore Gatonakis) (known as Takki) of Greek extraction took me under his wing and introduced me to Sid Diamond, the owner of Standard Trading Company in Kitwe and he in turn opened an account for me. Then I chose a mattress, blankets, towels etc.etc. some decent clothes -- all pending my first pay cheque! So -- after 8 months of wandering through Africa I was in ‘civilisation’ and had gainful employment! It was still a long way from Johannesburg of course but I would just have to ‘stay put’ and earn a living. It was a long way from Ashton-under-Lyne but Nkana was to be my home for the next ten years! RETROSPECTIVE NOTES: News and gossip arrived along all the routes with all kinds of travellers. We saw a British group,(one female member was wearing a fur coat!!!) who, on reaching the Arak Gorge decided that as the heat was considerable, that ‘it is going to be much worse further on’ and turned back. (we saw them pass through our ‘camp’ at Hassifal) It worth noting that as the walls of the gorge were very high rock faces and they attracted and stored the heat making it very oppressive. Once out of the gorge it was more bearable. Had these people realised this they could have continued into the more ‘normal’ temperatures. Another group in an American Car whom we met in Ghardia, left ahead of us and driving towards In Salah the ‘road’ climbs steeply up an escarpment and their vehicle couldn’t make it so they turned around and came back! (we never saw them again). The Weldon children must have been very well behaved because I do not remember any ‘problems’ other than the one girl running into the desert and a search party had to go looking for her. Mrs Peggy Weldon obviously coped admirably with cramped quarters, the children and cooking meals, washing etc. I do not remember her ever raising her voice or making a fuss about anything at all. ( whereas wives in the other truck, early in the journey, fell out, had altercations with husbands etc). then once the other truck left to do their own thing, peace reigned. Harry Weldon had a number of stays in various hospitals- notably bouts of Malaria (quite severe at times) and a hernia. Weldon obviously did not take his anti-malarial tablets. We had no major dramas (other than when the truck broke its crown-wheel and pinion and we were stalled in the Sahara at Hassifal for 3 months). This didn’t unduly bother me as I made many trips back and forth to Algiers with a variety of drivers/trucks and it was always varied and entertaining. I ate whatever they were eating as they shared their food with me. Watching vehicle repairs (in addition to our own) in all kinds of odd places and conditions. Such as seeing a father and son laboriously grinding down a cylinder head in order to put their Dodge back on the road. Then later seeing the same vehicle ‘parked’ outside a property with a piston showing through the engine block! Trying to work on the engine of our vehicle in a ranging sandstorm -- crouched under a tarpaulin of sorts! At the outset there were FIVE families in TWO trucks. The Weldon family (two parents, four children) and myself (the only single person in the group) plus the Daniels. We occupied the one truck. Being single, I slept in a bunk in the cab of the vehicle. The names of the other families were: Crowther, Barber, Greenhalgh, occupied the other. All families came from the Ashton under Lyne area, the exception being Greenhalgh who was from the Old Trafford area. Perhaps this gives an idea of some of my experiences. I have not written about the journey across France or the fact that we were the first post-war passenger ferry to enter Le Havre. Speaking for myself I never regretted undertaking this ‘adventure’. I used up all of the Three Hundred Pounds which I had originally intended for buying a Triumph Twin motorbike this was a new post-war model but there was a ‘waiting list’. In short I had eight months of sightseeing, living rather ‘rough’, I gained two stones in weight and my ‘wavy hair’ became curly hair! There were some dramas and lots and lots of experiences, which really money cannot buy! Vic Dawson, 2001 Arthur Steevens — Click here to contact me Stockport, United Kingdom Saturday, February 08, 2003 at 23:13:42 (UTC)

Northerners ! My apologies for the sporadic replies to your e-mails - problems again with my PC which hopefully are now fixed with a new one which left another hole in my pocket! If any of you are due a reply it may be that your e-mail was lost when my previous system gave up the ghost. For anyone who has sent me e-mail with photo attachments or documents for publishing these are safe so don't worry - I did a back-up shortly before the old PC went belly-up. It is just some regular e-mail that got lost. Denise Horton Glad you saw the photo of your dad, yes I did note the technology on his desk, that's what caught my eye when I first saw the photo - did you see that stunning pic sent in by Peter Hills I posted in November? (Monday, November 18, 2002 at 00:12:29 (UTC)) In those days that was the cutting edge ! (and probably lasted a bit longer than todays equipment). Do you remember the Schmid family that lived on Boma Street? Greg Crawford Next time you see Sharon (Padkin) please ask her to visit and join the GNR - finally after all this time on the GNR I am beginning to see more and more names I recognise from the past. If you're interested in rusty old mining gear (like me) I have a CD with a fantastic collection of photos donated by George Maxwell and Peter Hills amongst others. They are mostly black and white and cover most of the Copperbelt Mines. Send me your address and I will put one in the post for you. If you wish to share the photos Sharon left you with us all please also drop me a line. As you will see below someone else also saw my posting about recognising Sharon Padkin - take a look at the photo he sent me. Mark Sturgeon Thanks for your reply on last months message board. I also found this photo but I'm not sure if it's your dad again as he is referred to as "Bob" and not Bill in the photo. Donald Burton Here's one of your dad. John Milton The Fred Crawford (draughtsman) in one of the two pics I posted last month was not Greg's dad, the other pic of Fred Crawford - the leadburner - was. Perhaps you will remember these guys too. For the Frederick Knappers Any girls recognise themselves - c 1954? For the Chingolans this time School champions 1953 (All Photos above from the Rhokana Review) Dave Gray I hope you are not gonna try and charge me the equivalent of 30 bob for using your photo from the Rhokana Review ! What a coincidence having your photo posted again ! If you think about it that was a LOT of loot in those days. I wonder how much in today's terms that would be worth? Linda Burns I think it was Lynthia or Vivienne who posted the tale of doing something so scary to Mrs Burns that she fell off her bike. And they have gone very quiet just now which leads me to conclude I was right. And next time Heather is down in the Jo'burg area she has instructions from me to pay a short visit to Grant and Dez. Do you know what they do to sheep with an elastic band? Heather's favourite persuasive method. As for you Linda, report to the headmasters office with 3000 lines of "It is Riverain - not Roverrain or Riverrain" in your best handwriting mind. 25 school day photographs will be an acceptable substitution. Bob Eglington Welcome to the GNR - thanks for posting your message and I hope you find a few people from the old days here yourself. Your trips out to your grandparents place sounded fantastic. Hope you will be able to dig up a few old photos of your Broken Hill days for us all when you get home. David Thomas Welcome to the GNR as well! I have seen mention of Mrs Garson and maybe even a photo or two in the Rhokana Reviews I have looked at. I will keep an eye out for you and also see what photos of the Anglican Church in Kitwe I can find. I avoided anything to do with church and Sunday school when I was a kid, even more than being taken to Mufulira and the park. The torture some parents put their children through. I always preferred fishing and other things. Like I do now. And now for some other stuff. Did you all see Heather's fantastic photos of Victoria Falls last month ? Stunning pics and enough to make anyone homesick. Brilliant work. All level too - even in the helicopter - I didn't waste my money when I bought her that spirit level! I sneaked a look before you lot saw them all and Heather posted them. I gripped these two and joined them together for a wide-angle shot. This one I thought was one of the best Heather had ever taken, but she left it out of her posting! This photo is so atmospheric you can feel the spray and hear the noise, a very powerful shot. Some other Vic Falls pics Heather left off her posting that I liked. Heather - brilliant photos - thanks for taking the time out for us all. Arthur Here's a bit of a measly message left in my e-mail box This is the Island Breeze, which was once the Union Castle Transvaal Castle and later the SAFMarine Vaal. Transvaal Castle Tot kijk... And another A nice Iteshi Teshi sunset picture for you. Tina Thanks Tina - was it Heather who told you how much I love sunsets? - Arthur Hello Arthur, My apologies for the delay in submitting more photos, I had a complete computer crash which resulted in the computer being returned to the makers. I'm back in business now but have lost a lot of material. However for starters here are more photos from Luangwa. and a 1953 photo of Holdsworths Chemists in Kitwe. This street scene is from the Second class Trading Area in Kitwe late 50s early 60s. You mentioned Sharon Padkin some days ago. Attached is a photo of Sharon taken around the time you spoke of. From left to right :- Fred Crawford (Greg's dad), Tina Crawford, Bill Padkin, Pauline Chegwyn, Lindsay Crawford, Doug Padkin, Lesley Wilson, Rene Padkin, Sharon, Audrey Wilson, Myself (hidden), Tony Wilson, David Padkin and Ron Chegwyn. Regards, Mike Wilson - Dawlish, Devon, United Kingdom Thanks Mike for the photo - Sharon was in my class when I was around 11 or 12 years old - if you have any shots of Sharon at that age I will buy you a crate of beer. Arthur Arthur Steevens — Click here to contact me Stockport, United Kingdom Monday, February 03, 2003 at 00:41:13 (UTC)

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