The boyfriend writes a letter from Gaborones

June 1978 and a letter from the Holiday Inn in Gaborones, Botswana.

I had met Fred in the summer of 77, at the Wits swimming pool, with a casual 'may I put my towel next to you' and here I am decades later looking at his first letter to me.

At the time of the letter he was doing his MBA at Wits University and he was on a mid year holiday to the swamps in Botswana.

The innocent comment in the letter that 'we will be leaving at noon for Francistown to collect the boat and pushing straight through to Maun' could not predict the rather startling chain of events that ensued.

A breakdown... a trip to Bulawayo... an invitation... chucking in a job... a surreal evening... jail... deportation... a holiday.....

Another blog.

The envelop reminds me that I was living in a Berea bedsit at the time, 405 Panarama Place, on the Johannesburg CBD side of Berea.

The 70's were the brown decorating phase - so I had a chocolate brown feature wall and brown or beige everything else. I was content in my colour free space. How I love colour now.

I would catch a bus into town to which ever job I was in at the time. If not the bus, walk.

And that is how I came to be at the swimming pool, I had walked across from Berea to Braamfontein.

Fred and I did not connect that first day at the pool.

A couple of weeks later we bumped into each other at the pool again, he offered me a lift back to the bedsit and I accepted.

We have been together ever since.

The gang that Fred mentions in his letter.
From L: Fred, Dave's girlfriend Janet, Dave Hadfield, Lee and Neil

A closure letter and card on the Clarens years

The Before: Caption on the back of the photo is: 'Wedderburn Mansion' July 1970, Dad and I in Clarens

The After: house almost not recognisable from the original stone cottage from the 60's.

 Yet another interesting find this morning.

A photo card and letter among a group of old photos retrieved from my Dad's flat.

The photo card is dated 28 May 1986, from Mrs Rose after her purchase of a property in Clarens.

And the final chapter of Clarens becomes clear.

My parents moved from Vanderbijlpark to Howick in Kwa-Zulu Natal in 1980.






The Clarens years had come to a halt in the mid 70's. The folks had held onto Clarens, slowly selling off the stands they owned and then finally accepting the offer from Ian Rose.

The agreement to sell moved quickly,  8 days between the letter below and the photo card.

At this stage in my life I was married, was having my second child and was planning the move to Paris.

So Clarens was a long distant memory, Inel however remembers the conversations about the sale of the last property and remembers feeling nostalgic.

Closure indeed.

Clive with Dad and our dog Spangy.

A few rather bleak photos taken inside the house at Clarens, a work in progress in the late 60's.

End of a workday no doubt, folks having a drink, I am doing what I always did, reading, looks cold.

Clive however seems to be loving getting his hands dirty.

The handmade letter card

This hand made letter card is dogeared and worn.

It has been in the pocket of my filofax for over 20 years.

The Protea Pendula pen drawing is signed D E Wedderburn, 92. Daphne Estelle.


My mother.
This would have been her last Christmas Card and her last Christmas.

Dad has written in the letter card 'may we all enjoy our festive season'.

On the left side of the card he has a PS. 'Mom did this card about a month ago'.

My Mom was gifted.
At Iscor she worked in the drawing office and during her years at home raising four children she drew up house plans, she set up her home office in the garage and worked many hours at her drawing board.

Her drawing skills were remarkable.
A walk about in any of our homes, whether in Johannesburg, Hilton, Cape Town or Amanzimtoti and even in Cowra, Australia, you will find a framing of my mother's art, pen drawings or watercolours of finely sketched botanicals and detailed replicas of old buildings.

She never had idle hands.
There is not a craft that she did not attempt, she hand knitted and even machine knitted, she crocheted, she sewed, she made her children and grandchildren toys, she painted porcelain dolls, she made mosaics, she worked with pewter, she made cane furniture, she did macrame, she made twine lampshades, she made gemstone jewellery, she made hand dyed batiks... no doubt I am forgetting something, will check with my sisters.

So Inel also remembers Mom working with leather, enamelling and using a soldering iron for wood craft.

Ah, but she did not like to bake.

F.M. senior writes to his son

Fred has very few letters among his memorabilia.

So this particular envelop that I have found is special, it's dated 29 January 1981, from 4 Steward Avenue in Bulawayo, the last home of Fred's parents, to Fred, when we were living in our cottage in Mountain View.

The letter, written in capitals, from Fred senior, reads like one long sentence and is the only piece of writing I have from Fred's father.

He and Fred had been discussing importing an air conditioner.  In the letter he continues with his request for Fred to buy a unit and arrange to get it to Bulawayo.

He died later this same year from lung cancer.

The air conditioner was to bring him some relief from the dry summer heat up north as he was having trouble with his breathing. Chatting to Fred on our walk this morning, he does remember smuggling an air conditioner through the Beit Bridge border, so the permit never came through.

Instructions and suggestions from F.M. senior to F.M.

A young father, F.M. (senior) with his 5 children, Henk standing, sitting L to R, Ely, Hans, Dad, Fred, Mom, Louise.

Fred's father Frits as a young boy in Holland. He is front row, second left.

The love of listing

'Life can only be understood backwards; but it must be lived forwards'

Soren Kierkegaard

Mom's exercise books full of lists.

An early list, 'Gifts received for Sharon' 

No one could list like my mother.

Looking back her love of listing is part of me and my sisters. We love stationery and are never without a notepad, journal or a piece of paper for a to-do list.

My love of listing manifests itself in bird check-sheets, a life list of birds seen, and on my latest holiday I listed any number of things including Ben & Jerry Ice-creams.

I have notebooks that she left me with her detailed planning for my engagement and wedding and not surprisingly, I too have notebooks for my engagement and wedding - full of lists.

My daughter Shawni was married earlier this year; she has a wedding notebook too. She too loves stationery and she lists.

This set of exercise books in the photo belonged to my Mom and they cover everything from collective nouns to Greek Mythology, she collected words, phrases and definitions, for crosswords and for scrabble. Her favourite was the You Magazine Blockword. I wonder what Mom would of made of the quick search on Google?

A quick peep into one of the exercise books; a male donkey is a jack and a female donkey a jenny or jennet.

My plan is to take all these notebooks down to our Loft in Amanzintoti for my scrabble games with family and friends.

What a treat to find Mom's typed list from 1956 among her things, my birth gifts.

Amazing.



First baby, first photo shoot, I love these dear little black and white 'rough proofs' that lie in my box.

Mom with me at my first formal photoshoot.

The Dance Card

There is a dance card in the Bowerburn Princess box. It's the Grand Coronation Ball at the Iscor Recreation Club and the year is 1953.

The inside of the card has signatures, Mom's dance partners.

Mom would have been 19 years old and the ball was the year before her wedding.

Dance partners

Inside of the dance card

Mom, as a young woman working at Iscor.

A letter from the matriach

Fred's father's family. 
Standing L to R: Theodore, Wilhelmina (Willie), Peter (Piet), Frits (Fred's father), Maria (Roet),  Mathuis (Thys), Henk, Adriana (Sjaan)
Sitting L to R: Antonia (Toni), Cornelius (Kees), Fred's Ouma (Wilhelmina, Fred's Oupa (Hendricus), Elizabeth (Lies), Johannes (Joop)

The Kersten family is Dutch, Fred's grandparents lived in Amsterdam and they were married in 1917.

The birth order of this huge family is; Lies, Piet, Henk, Joop, Thys, Frits, Roet, Willie, Kees, Sjaan, Theo and Toni. Frits is Fred's father.

40th Wedding Anniversary of Fred's Ouma and Oupa Kersten.
There are 43 family members in this photo taken in 1957.
Fred is centre right, with the crossed arms.
His folks are standing in the back row, position 3rd and 4th from the left.

Fred's family emigrated to Rhodesia on the 14 November 1957. Frits and Greet, his parents, had 5 children at this point.

I have found one letter written from Amsterdam on the 30 October 1964 from "Moeder", the Kersten matriarch to her son Frits in Bulawayo. It is difficult to read but she is thanking Frits and Greet for the birthday wishes, the lovely flowers she received and the card from the children, 'het een gesellig dag gehadt'.

The quite abrupt ending from Moeder.

Fred's family tree using the information I have to hand.

A Postcard from Bulawayo

It's March 1969 and this postcard was on its way from Queen's Park, Bulawayo to Fred at the Mens Hall of Residence, University of  the Witwatersrand. What a great black and white photo I found among Fred's keepsakes from his varsity and residence days. His intensity and competitiveness has always defined him and it is so obvious in this photo.

The postcard is from his mother, thanking him for his letter. However, she is not entirely happy. He will not back home in Bulawayo for his birthday nor for Easter. She thinks he could well be home for her birthday though.

Fred's mother is Gerritdina Johanna de Haas born in Amsterdam in 1922. She was the youngest of 6 children and her mother died when she was 4 years old.

These are photos of Fred's Mom as a young girl and woman in The Netherlands.

Her postcard, even after 12 years of living in Rhodesia, is a delightful quirky blend of Dutch and English;... 'please send me a record in de morning op de radio in Salisbury'...she even asks Fred at the end of the card whether he can read the Dutch.

A Joubert Park flat, a job, a murder and a suicide

My first letter of employment, Carlton Hotel, 1974

My chest feels tight as I am blogging this morning.

This letter from the five star Carlton Hotel in Main Street, Johannesburg confirms my employment as an Information Hostess starting on the 11 November 1974.

My address is given as Jubilee Hall one of the Wits University residences.

I want to weep thinking about my young 18 year old self, how I got to this point and survived.

This is the same year my mother was having her cancer treatments. It was my first year of university doing a science degree. My first year of hard won freedom and I had no clue on how to manage any of the above.

I baled on my studies, found this job paying R250 per month and settled into a sparcely furnished flat in King George Street in Joubert Park, opposite the Johannesburg Art Gallery. I recall my parents assisting with some of the furniture but they were frustrated and disappointed with me.

Our relationship was strained, the year before I had been the Head Girl of Vaal High School, the Dux Scholar with 3 distinctions in Matric and arms full of trophies and awards for academic, cultural and sport events. A year later, I was a challenging and confused teenager.

As you can see from the job description that I worked shifts and would walk the kilometre from my Joubert Park flat to the Carlton Hotel. No wonder my chest feels tight, looking back I am terrified for me.

I loved the buzz of the hotel. Seeing Trevor Rabin the lead singer of Rabbit, a well known South African pop group in the 70's, was fun and I was a huge fan. I remember the 24 hour staff kitchen in the basement because I certainly did not cook for myself.

I was shocked rigid by the shooting described in the newspaper article below. I was on duty, in the Front Office on that saturday night. I heard the shots, the screams and the unbelievable noise of the massive pane of glass cracking when the gunman fell backwards.

All I could say when interviewed was, 'it was unreal'.

This whole phase of my life still feels unreal, the job and flat did not last long as I registered for yet another first year at Wits in 1975, swinging away from the sciences to the arts.
And the confused, difficult teenage years continued unabated for quite a few more years.

A postcard in my box of the Carlton Hotel

Post script:
In 2008 I bought the Tim Ecott book called Stealing Water. 
He describes life in the 1970's in Hillbrow and his stories of working at the Carlton Hotel brought back so many memories. He writes of the 'curious inverted Y-shape of the Carlton Hotel' its fabulous restaurants, The Three Ships, El Gaucho and Koffie Huis, the pool deck on the 30th floor and he reminded me that the Carlton Hotel was listed in the phone book as Africa's Greatest Hotel.
And I played a bit part in it's history.

Family at Clarens

View from our cottage in Clarens, 1972

Family weekends in Clarens were part of growing during the late 60's to mid 70's. It was no more than a hamlet, undiscovered, certainly nothing like the trendy Clarens of today.

We would walk and swim at the Kloof, climb the mountain behind town and my favourite past time was working on saturday mornings in the sandstone library on the town square.

I remember Mom having Clive's 13th birthday in Clarens and we must have had 13 boys in the cottage! We could not tire them out, they called me Queen Rat and Inel was Ratfink. She reminded me in an sms that her love was the apricot trees.

Eventually the folks sold off the plots of land and then the house and this era faded away.

The Land Baroness of Clarens

Add caption

Clarens.
Letters during 1968 start to talk about Clarens.
The folks bought 4 stands in the centre of this sleepy Free State town. There was a small rundown sandstone cottage on the top stand.
They spent many years driving down to Clarens from Vanderbijlpark for the weekend, renovating, building and furnishing the cottage, these were remarkable times.
I remember their energy, the hard work, the sense of camping during the build, they made life long friendships and they partied non stop between all the work.
I loved it all, as did Clive.

Dad's letter to Mom written from Durnacol and he is planning a visit to Clarens.

In costume and character for Little Miss Muffet
in Nan and Pa's back garden.

Little Miss Muffet

BY MOTHER GOOSE

Little Miss Muffet 

Sat on a tuffet, 

Eating her curds and whey; 

Along came a spider, 

Who sat down beside her, 

And frightened Miss Muffet away.

I was wondering what I was doing the same year that Fred went to Mozambique, 1964; so 8 years old and at Oliver Lodge Primary School in Vanderbijlpark. 

This envelop, letter and an old photo sheds some light. 

I was Little Miss Muffet in the school play, something that I loved and I participated in  school plays during all my years at Primary and High School.

My Mom kept this letter from my teacher, Mrs. Joyce Mc Fadyen's  and I can see why, it would make any mother proud. 

The letter is a thank you note for 'the beautiful and useful Xmas present', the envelop though is a note to me, Miss Muffet, and thanks me 'for doing such lovely work.'

I had twelve really good years at school.

A card and a letter from Lourenco Marques

The post card from the 13 year Fred to his parents in Bulawayo.

Like my mother, I too have a box of letters, old photos, post cards and other bits and pieces, tucked away in a bottom drawer.

I was tiding up the drawer yesterday and found this delightful card and letter written by a thirteen year old Fred from Lourenco Marques, to his parents in Bulawayo.

It is early in January 1964, (got to love the 1963 made into 1964, I remember getting dates wrong in January too) and he is at the Jamboree International in Mozambique.

He shares the detail of his two days, from a cathedral in the shape of a space rocket, to visiting the iconic L.M. Radio Station which is a fond memory for South African's too, seeing hippos and ends with seeing the movie Zorro at the bioscope, I think that must have made an impression on him.

So typical of the Fred that I know, he writes of going to the market on his free afternoon, 'I saw something nice which I wanted to buy for Dad but I left my money in camp...' so he was thoughtful and forgetful even then.

....do you think everyone wrote back Fred?

The Kersten family in 1963 for Paul's christening.
Back row: Eli, Fred's Mom holding Paul, Fred's Dad, Fred
Front row: Henk, Louise, Michael and Hans.