Not everyone has a photo of their dad in drag.
This is my father Harold.
He is the very fetching woman holding the baby.
It was 14th September, 1923,
when Harold aged 19, and his family left Wigan to make a new life in New Zealand.
Harold's sister Florence kept a diary of the journey. It is such a treasure to have.This is my father Harold.
He is the very fetching woman holding the baby.
It was 14th September, 1923,
when Harold aged 19, and his family left Wigan to make a new life in New Zealand.
She writes about the fancy dress party for the adults.
'Our Harold was dressed in a nightdress and cap and clipper with a doll in his arms
and a long plait of string down his back and John got himself up as a native of Colon.
They had all our end of the deck lit with coloured lights and it looked well and they danced
until 11 o'clock. '
Aunty Florence describes sleeping in a berth with three other girls
and it had a porthole. She was glad of that because the cabins with no
porthole were dark and stuffy.
The long voyage was often rather uncomfortable with seasickness and rough weather, but such an adventure, calling in at Colon, seeing dark skinned people and buying wonderful fruit, and going through the Panama Canal.
At the end of the journey they felt a little sad to leave the ship in Wellington, New Zealand, on the 24th October, but the excitement of reaching their new home soon overtook any of those feelings. Lovely spring weather must have greeted them as they made their way North.
"Well, we got on our way to Morrinsville on the train. and we couldn't do anything
for watching the scenery. It was simply gorgeous, passing little towns amongst the hills with beautiful little houses. All bungalows, no upstairs and sheep and cows everywhere and all looked so clean and healthy and fruit trees in full bloom and beautiful gardens.
I only wish everybody I loved could see it too."
Thus my father and his family began their new life in New Zealand.
England though, was always referred to as 'Home'.
Your father had such spirit (everyone, actually; you've an amazing family). What a sport he was to dress in drag. When I see photos like yours I can almost hear the laughter, feel their excited anticipation. They were young and full of energy, the world theirs to explore and/or resettle. Of course it wasn't as easy as smiling photos make it appear. I sometimes wish photos could turn real for a second or two, long enough to ask a question or two, and smile with them.
ReplyDeleteHow wonderful New Zealand must have seemed to them-- and still does, to me reading posts from NZ.
ReplyDeleteLovely blog and interesting family history too!
ReplyDeleteA wonderful photo and such a delightful sense of play your father and family had. I cannot imagine our ancestors and the long, long journey they had. Mine had rough crossing, of course, but nowhere near as long as those going on to New Zealand. How grand that Florence kept a diary of the journey. A reminder to all of the place journals have in our collective and our personal histories. I love this sepia Saturday post, Joan.
ReplyDeleteI just adore old photos, and think how wonderful it would be to be able to look upon times past with present-day eyes.
ReplyDeleteTruly a treasure indeed to have a family accounting of that journey to be handed down through the generations.
Thank you Kitty, Vicki, Penny, Cosmic and Mermaiden. Our countries were founded on adventurous types willing to leave their homelands. The Maori people who arrived first were the most intrepid, travelling in their small canoes, and the journeys in the small ships that followed were long and arduous.
ReplyDeleteSuch adventure! I love the photo and the fact that you have it. So lucky to hold a moment in time like this. Great post- thanks for sharing!
ReplyDeleteA wonderful post J, how lucky are you to have this photo and to have your aunt's diary - what treasures. I wished I had known your Dad -maybe I met him but I don't remember.
ReplyDeleteHow wonderful to have a photo and the story to go with it. I have been doing genealogy for about 3 years and it is addicting. I get such a big kick out of it.
ReplyDeleteQMM
You obviously come from a much more fun-spirited family than I do. Wow, what a great photo - and to have the commentary with it. Simply amazing.
ReplyDeleteIf you had not told me, I would not have known that your father was a man. He wore his disguise very well. I'm intrigued by your aunt's diary and her descriptions you shared. England to NZ seems such a long way to travel. Hardy people, your family. And now I want to see New Zealand!
ReplyDeleteAmazing story Joan. It's such an adventure these days for families to emigrate to the other side of the world. In 1923, even more so. No wonder you love travelling so much....
ReplyDeleteWhat a wonderful family archive, such a treasure.
ReplyDeleteGreat photograph and first-hand account of the journey to a new future. I can imagine how the excitement of starting life again, in a new place, must have been overwhelming at times.
ReplyDeleteThanks Joan - it got me wondering about the strange and delicious fruits and what a contrast NZ would be with Wigan at the time. Hope you post more from Florence's diary in the future
ReplyDeleteI don't have a photo of my father in drag, but I have a photo of my dear friend's grandfather or his friend in drag. Looks like a Halloween costume, not like he was odd.
ReplyDeleteWonder if this perhaps was a party when they crossed the International Date Line. If that were the case King Neptune would also have been at the party. Crossing the dateline has all sorts of customs.
ReplyDeleteI think you are probably right Tattered and Lost. I've always thought they were crossing the equator, but because Florence does not mention this I didn't either.
ReplyDeleteThank you everyone for the wonderful comments. I truly appreciate each one.
Hi Joan, What a great photo. People who left their homes to go around the world for a new life where so brave. How lucky to have Florence's diary. A real treasure. Jane xx
ReplyDeleteI really enjoyed reading this story. I'm from Liverpool, near to Wigan, though I still live in England. How interesting that they chose to leave and go to New Zealand - Liverpool was not a pretty place back then, it was so industrial. Imagine how your father's family must have felt seeing all that beautiful scenery on the train, knowing they had left the dark smog of Merseyside behind them. How lucky you are to have the diary to read!
ReplyDeleteYou take after your dad don't you, I can see you in his face as a woman
ReplyDeleteFancy that Meliors! I think you might be right. I know I'm a lot like him in many ways. Strange that I am older now than he ever was. He died aged 54.
ReplyDeleteIt's not every man who can pull off such a realistic transformation. He obviously had a sense of humor. From the photo, it looks like they all had a lot fun. What a treasure you have here, along with your aunt's diary.
ReplyDeleteThis is so wonderful - and I'm with Meliors, you definitely look like your dad! I think there's something about the way that he's holding the 'baby' that makes his transformation look so realistic. What an amazing treasure - and such a wonderful quote at the end. I think that's the downside of travelling, that you can never really convey the magic of wherever you are to those still at home (but it's still worth trying!)
ReplyDeleteThank you PattyF and kitchenmaid. Do you think that word 'clipper' should read slippers? Just thought that now. I own a type written copy.
ReplyDeleteYou're indeed blessed, Joan!
ReplyDeleteI DO have a picture of my father in drag! On my March 26 Sepia Saturday post. Can you imagine there are two of us with fathers in drag!!!
ReplyDeleteWhat a great picture and to have the diary to go with it is wonderful. And such an interesting story.
Fabulous, fabulous photograph which is dripping both with social history and with family history. And that diary must be a treasure to have.
ReplyDeleteThank you Alan. This is a great way to share family history.
ReplyDeleteFancy Barbara and Nancy you have a father in drag pictue too.