Many years ago, when people realised the benefits of recycling, what were known as charity bins appeared everywhere. Some of those who took them, once the novelty wore off, didn’t service their bins, which led to them being told to remove them. The Benalla Uniting Church had two bins, one was located at the old Coles in Sydney Road, the other was sent out to Swanpool Store for the Swanpool community and was well looked after by Gordon and Beverly.
How did we operate? Our bin, located near the entrance to the old Coles, was cleared most days, the goods brought to a shed behind the church. On Thursday mornings we would bag the items and, when we had sufficient, I would ring up “Rocky” of Uniting Care Broadmeadows to send a truck up and clear the shed. “Rocky” was the only contact we had, he was a remarkable fellow, a great employee and couldn’t do enough for us.
Mal, Phil, and I emptied the bin, sometimes giving visitors or family members a job. We all had regular tasks. Rod with his sausage like fingers looked after anything that was small and intricate, such as jewellery, and could replace batteries in watches. Mal and Phil did most of packing. Vaughan sorted, he would always find something funny or queer for Phil to take home to his wife Dawn. Because there was a lot of rubbish we had a skip, but Peter would bring most of it back if he got a chance, just like an anxious bitch bringing her pups home.
One of the things we tried to do, if a daughter whose mother had died brought her mother’s clothes in, was to send the clothes off to Melbourne, as she would not want to see someone wearing her Mum’s best dress walking down the main street. This dress may well have appeared on a lady in Uganda. We broke our own rule at least once. One day a wedding dress appeared. We decided that we would take it to the Ballendella shop. They put it on display in their front window and sold it for $50.
When the shed was full, we would ring “Rocky” to send a truck up. One of these drivers stood out, a real ‘Ocker Aussie’ called Joe. When told he had to go to Benalla, he probably needed the GPS to find us and wondered what these ‘Churchies’ did - maybe a prayer before we started loading, and grace before morning tea? When he found us to be near normal, he entered in the conversation and Benalla became his favourite job. He lived at Glenroy, took an empty truck home Wednesday night, had early breakfast Thursday morning, and drove up to Benalla. We would load him in an hour, he’d get home for a late lunch and take the loaded truck into the depot Friday morning.
When we were told not to send down any more goods, we found we had an empty Big Blue Bin. Using our imaginations, we began to fill it up with memories of all the fun we had working on it. We never heard a complaint; it was a bit the other way. We made sure everybody got involved, we made new friends and got to know friends better. We filled our empty bin up with good memories.
A notice was put on the bin to say we were no longer in business, we were taking it away. We let people know that the bin wouldn’t be there anymore, which worked, as nothing was left there afterwards, not even a sock.
A final word - we sold our Big Blue Bin for $100 at one of our Uniting Church Fetes.
Max Tilbury
June 2024
How did we operate? Our bin, located near the entrance to the old Coles, was cleared most days, the goods brought to a shed behind the church. On Thursday mornings we would bag the items and, when we had sufficient, I would ring up “Rocky” of Uniting Care Broadmeadows to send a truck up and clear the shed. “Rocky” was the only contact we had, he was a remarkable fellow, a great employee and couldn’t do enough for us.
Mal, Phil, and I emptied the bin, sometimes giving visitors or family members a job. We all had regular tasks. Rod with his sausage like fingers looked after anything that was small and intricate, such as jewellery, and could replace batteries in watches. Mal and Phil did most of packing. Vaughan sorted, he would always find something funny or queer for Phil to take home to his wife Dawn. Because there was a lot of rubbish we had a skip, but Peter would bring most of it back if he got a chance, just like an anxious bitch bringing her pups home.
One of the things we tried to do, if a daughter whose mother had died brought her mother’s clothes in, was to send the clothes off to Melbourne, as she would not want to see someone wearing her Mum’s best dress walking down the main street. This dress may well have appeared on a lady in Uganda. We broke our own rule at least once. One day a wedding dress appeared. We decided that we would take it to the Ballendella shop. They put it on display in their front window and sold it for $50.
When the shed was full, we would ring “Rocky” to send a truck up. One of these drivers stood out, a real ‘Ocker Aussie’ called Joe. When told he had to go to Benalla, he probably needed the GPS to find us and wondered what these ‘Churchies’ did - maybe a prayer before we started loading, and grace before morning tea? When he found us to be near normal, he entered in the conversation and Benalla became his favourite job. He lived at Glenroy, took an empty truck home Wednesday night, had early breakfast Thursday morning, and drove up to Benalla. We would load him in an hour, he’d get home for a late lunch and take the loaded truck into the depot Friday morning.
When we were told not to send down any more goods, we found we had an empty Big Blue Bin. Using our imaginations, we began to fill it up with memories of all the fun we had working on it. We never heard a complaint; it was a bit the other way. We made sure everybody got involved, we made new friends and got to know friends better. We filled our empty bin up with good memories.
A notice was put on the bin to say we were no longer in business, we were taking it away. We let people know that the bin wouldn’t be there anymore, which worked, as nothing was left there afterwards, not even a sock.
A final word - we sold our Big Blue Bin for $100 at one of our Uniting Church Fetes.
Max Tilbury
June 2024