Consumption was still very much feared in the early 1900s when Florence was a little girl. Her mother, Carrie, was a nurse and died of consumption at the age of thirty-nine leaving four children, Ena eight, Hazel seven, Florence six and Russell aged four.
Florrie was a good student and planned to follow her mother into nursing but Madre insisted she leave school and get a job. She tried stenography but wanted something more creative and went into making hats. Ena was already working. Hazel was regarded as ‘delicate’ and stayed at home.
Colin McRae, a handsome young man at Echuca Methodist church had decided to move off the farm and study theology and was very attracted to Florrie. While away in Melbourne he wrote regular letters to her, some of which Hazel would open when they arrived ‘just in case he’s coming on today’s train’!
Colin and Florrie married in 1932 and travelled to Zeehan in Tasmania. Colin had never liked the name Florrie so decided to call her Beth, from her second name, Elizabeth. Hilly Zeehan with a yearly rainfall of 77 inches, was a huge contrast to flat, dry Echuca.
Back to Tasmania to Hobart, now with two daughters. Four happy years and another daughter, before the move to Launceston. The war years coloured the memories here and life wasn’t easy. However they did bring a young son into the family.
After a brief break, a move back to Victoria and a revelation to the children that there were such people as cousins and they thought that their mother’s name was Auntie Florrie!
A final son was born in Ballarat.
Beth was my mother.
Despite the moving and little money, Beth loved being a ‘minister’s wife’. She spread her friendship far and wide and frequently had someone staying in the house, not overnight but for weeks or months.
We children flourished despite the moves and were given a reasonable measure of independence. Beth didn’t believe in smacking. Instead she sent the child to their bedroom and then came and gave them an ‘improving talk’. Most of us would have preferred the smack!
There were four more moves before retiring in Mooroopna,
We had no phone so answered a succession of calls on the neighbour’s phone telling us she had gone to hospital, then that it seemed serious and then that she had died.
Colin, quite a reserved man, loved Beth dearly and they lived and worked together without apparent dissension. The death notice he wrote for the paper finished with
‘So loved, so loving, so lovely.’
Carmyl Winkler
March 2024