We lived in boomer Grey Lynn in the 50s, 60s and 70s.
There were old couples in chocolate box houses with flowers and picket fences, and many young families, quite a few of them Polynesian. There was just one solitary Indian family at the time, and I don’t remember any Chinese. Hippy types flatted there too. Our neighbourhood was a happy mixture.
We knew most of the people living near our home in lower Dryden St, and the children would visit neighbouring houses. Most of our closer neighbours were older people and the women were very formal with each other. There was Mrs Morris, Mrs Smith, Mrs Hahn, Mrs Meanne, Mrs Fogdon... They never used first names and they certainly never visited each other. Several of the older men living near us occasionally got together to have a beer in their garages- but not much beer, because they were limited by the size of the beer bottles they had to carry home on the bus. Probably a good thing!
In the 60's, one of the very first Shoprite supermarkets was set up in the old Richmond Rd movie theatre, next door to what is now the Grey Lynn Community Centre. Before that, our little neighbourhood Four Square shop in Dryden St supplied our whole district with the food we all needed. The delivery boys had bikes with baskets over the small front wheel, so they could carry a big carton of groceries to the homes that had placed orders. I would walk up to that shop for ‘the messages’, as a very small child as my mother had 3 other little ones at home. I would see the young women there who were temporarily lodged at the Bethany Maternity Centre situated a little further up Dryden St. They were usually buying lollies.
In the weekends, all the shops were shut and of course we didn't have freezers in those days, so on Mondays and Fridays we all had to visit the butcher and greens shops in Surrey Crescent or Richmond Rd. Those cheeky butchers often gave children a baby saveloy sausage. What a treat!
In those early days the milk truck delivered milk to everyone’s homes, in quart-size glass bottles and then later in pints. We left the milk money overnight in our letterboxes. It was my father’s favourite amusement to try to catch the youths who tried to steal it. He marched two of them up to the Richmond Rd police station once… holding them both by their shirt collars. Later we all used milk tokens so that problem got sorted.
The Rawleighs man used to go door to door with his basket, selling his medications and food essences. My grandma swore by his blue tin medicated ointment, and she rubbed it on EVERYTHING. We were obviously fully brainwashed by her, because our family still uses it… 60 years later!
Kathryn Avenell
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