Almanac Life: Remembering Grandpa, the Braybrook Hotel, and a time long ago
9 of the 11 surviving Ritchie cousins
Like many of my age and generation, it is increasingly noticeable the number of older family members passing away. Often, funerals are the only opportunity for you to meet up with relatives. After a recent funeral, my paternal cousins – all in our 60s and 70s – decided it was time to have a long leisurely lunch together, share old photos and stories, and get to know one another once again.
The Braybrook Hotel, a far cry from grandpa’s day
We chose the Braybrook Hotel as the venue to gather. This decision was steeped in family history, as this was the watering hole of our grandpa circa 100 years ago. The Braybrook Hotel was not merely a place of respite for him but a backdrop to many a family tale passed down through generations. Unfortunately, grandpa spent too much time drinking there, playing two-up out the back, and involving himself with SP bookies.
My dad told me many stories about sadly collecting his drunken father home from the pub when he was a kid, and also acting as a ‘cockatoo’ for grandpa and his two-up games and SP betting exploits. The stories dad relayed have etched a vivid image of our grandpa’s spirited, albeit wayward, life. The responsibility dad took upon himself to seek out and look after his father became a defining aspect of his childhood, and one he carried over to adulthood with distinction showering so much love and protection to his five children.
The day was one of nostalgia and reunion. As I walked into the hotel, I couldn’t help but feel grandpa’s spirit present there. The walls, though refurbished, seemed to echo the laughter, the shouts of excitement from two-up games, and the murmured conversations of days long past.
We delved into the treasure trove of old photographs on our devices, a portal to a different time, allowing us to relive moments frozen in time. And of course each cousin had a specific story to tell handed down by our dads.
In those moments, the Braybrook Hotel was transformed from a relic of the past into a living, breathing testament to the enduring strength of family.
With my cousin Keith. We are the eldest of the cousins
We raised a toast to Grandpa, and to our family. The years had scattered us, but the bonds of family had drawn us back together. We promised to make these gatherings a regular occurrence, to ensure that our connections remained strong and that our shared history would be passed down to the next generation.
Standing at the back of the hotel where two-up games would have been played, and for a moment, I could almost hear the clink of coins and the animated cheers of the players. It was a poignant reminder of the vibrant, albeit rough, community that grandpa was a part of. That area is now an extension of the hotel, a carpark, and urban development, a far cry from the dusty, wide open spaces with thistles and scrub in grandpa’s time.
Leaving the Braybrook Hotel, I carried a renewed sense of kinship and a deeper understanding of my roots. The stories we shared were not just nostalgic reminiscences but vital threads in the tapestry of our family’s legacy. In honoring our past, we had strengthened our present and laid a foundation for the future.
That day at the Braybrook Hotel was more than a reunion; it was a celebration of the enduring spirit of family, a tribute to those who came before us, and a reaffirmation of the ties that bind us. Grandpa’s presence, palpable in the air and in our hearts, had guided us in reconnecting with one another and in forging new memories to cherish. The stories, laughter, and love shared that day will continue to resonate within us, a testament to the timeless power of family.
Leonard Street Sunshine where I spent the first 3 0r 4 years of my life
Young Col photographed in the backyard of Leonard St over 70 years ago
I decided on my way home to check out the home where I lived from late 1950 to 1953/4. It was about a kilometre from the Braybrook Hotel. The house is still there and I do have some very vague memories of experiences there. I must admit I felt very emotional standing out the front of the house mum and dad brought me home to from hospital nearly 75 years ago.
More from Col Ritchie can be read Here
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About Colin Ritchie
Retired teacher who enjoys following the Bombers, listening to music especially Bob Dylan, reading, and swimming.
Oh what a wonderful reflections Col. Stunning and vivid and honest. The portrait of your dad is fascinating too. I’m interested by the sense of responsibility that he showed at a young age.
Keeping some momentum with family catchups is valuable and a wonderful way to keep memories alive of the people we miss.
Have a great day.
Col,
Thank you for this wonderful article. It resonates powerfully for me. I think that maintaining the bonds of extended family usually falls to one (or a few) responsible and enthusiastic members. My sister maintains our ancestry files, and a handful of the “cousins” take the initiative to set up gatherings from time to time. I do this haphazardly. I’m very grateful for feeling embraced by a large extended family – 37 of my generation on my mother’s side of the family. Typically – and coincidentally – the most recent gathering was a funeral (Mass at St. Brendans Coragulac, followed by the Colac Cemetery and the Colac Bowls Club.
Great work Col. It makes me think I should initiate something similar with our extended family.
And like you PFr, funeral Masses at St John’s Winchelsea are the only time we have tended to get together too.
RDL
Col this is a very evocative piece, and well done to you and your cousins for actually doing it rather than just saying “we should”.
Now I’m trying to think of a suitable venue to do something similar. Pubs weren’t my family’s haunts – although maybe I could introduce them to one of mine…
cheers, Michael
Good stuff Col. I lived with my girlfriend in Braybrook back in the mid 80’s. The Braybrook was a tad less genteel in those days. I still remember the old ‘Bluestone’ from those days of yore.
it’s certainly changed from that time. For the punters in the older persons footy tipping, coordinated by our team at the Community Health Centre, the end of season lunch, prizes are held at the Braybrook. It’s a place that people certainly enjoy. The range of foods from the Beau Marie, added to the salads and the deserts , are exceedingly popular. Our tipsters never leave there disappointed.
Glen!
What can I say Col except this is an exceptional recount or account of our paternal cousins lunch on Saturday. The venue as you said was perfect and provided opportunity to reflect on how our parents, particularly our father. How did he rise above this impoverished upbringing to raise a family, to achieve a very high level in his occupation without a formal education and to continue barracking for the Doggies. Our grandfather loved the swill and the tinkling of pennies with a hope of winning.
Thanks for making our catch up happen. Next one soon
Marg
Nostalgic for this young bloke to Col as I lived underneath the silos at the Albion station and only a Alan Hopkins drop kick and a Ted Whitten flick-pass.
I have found the older I get the more memories go through your mind such as the Sunshine Soccer Club starting their life on a thistle paddock just up the road from York Street and dad’s butcher shop is now a florist next to Shortens of Ballarat Road. My mum worked at HV McKays like most of the locals did. Thanks for the memories young Ritchie.
Whoops! Dad’s butcher shop is a women’s hairdresser not a florist. Well it was last time I drove past!
Simply superb, Col.
Thanks for sharing this with us all. Just beautiful.
Col, thanks for this heartwarming insight into the Ritchies. There is much with which to identify in my extended families on both sides.
All of the members of my parents’ generation are now dead. But talk about cousins! On Mum’s side (she was the youngest of six children), I had 16 cousins, four of whom are now deceased. On Dad’s side (he was tenth out of thirteen children!), there were just over 50 (yes, 50] cousins, about ten of whom are now deceased. I haven’t seen many of my cousins for decades but I’m not unaware of where most of them are or how they are faring in life. On both sides of the family there are a number of small ‘networks’ through which a bush telegraph of sorts operates to generally keep up with life circumstances, illnesses, deaths and so on.
Imagine trying to get either group together! As you convey, Col, all too often we see some of them now only at funerals. But what a pile of stories there are to be told among them all.
Wonderful, heart warming read Col.
I can relate some of my own upbringing and recent family and friend’s gatherings to much of what you have written.
That is such a touching account, Col. Extended family reunions are a blessing, and I consider myself lucky that at least on one side of my family we have a pretty much intact network of cousins.
So good that the Leonard St house is still there. My two childhood homes in Colac still exist, but I will never forget the lurch in my gut when I drove down Queen St a few years back to see that my grandparents’ home, where I spent so much time, had disappeared into a Coles shopping centre. It was unlucky, as my great-aunt’s house next door is still standing.
Wonderful reflective piece Col, love the photos of young Col!