Bev Harvey
Good times are in our hearts and minds…

We moved here on Anzac Day 1977, my son’s 4th birthday. My daughter was ten months old. I loved the house, big rooms and lots of large windows. We moved from an old-fashioned semidetached house in Hurstville which was dark and gloomy.

The paper shop was in its current position. The post office was where the Halal butcher is now, opposite the netball complex, and of course the hardware store was there but now they have much bigger premises. The man at the post office would close shop at lunch time, deliver mail on his push bike and eat his lunch on the way. Over the level crossing at the station was a little haberdashery shop which was also the Bank of NSW. We had to shop in Campbelltown.

We woke up one morning to find cows grazing out the front.

Sarah Redfern wasn’t complete when my son started school so he attended Bensley Road, now Macquarie Fields High, for his first term. Then all the kids transferred to Sarah. His first grade teacher was Cheryl McBride, the current principal.

We got to know the neighbours through our kids and after a while became friends, attended school functions together and the occasional Tupperware party. We organised Neighbourhood Watch and Safe House committees and all the kids in the street contracted measles at the same time. One mum, three doors up, decided she’d entertain the girls and I had the boys. That worked out well, but soon after, chicken pox broke out. By then we’d just about had enough.

When plans went out for Minto Mall to be built, there was some sort of dispute so one neighbour, Lynne Wilson, started up a petition to get it up and running. Lynne had three sons, two of them were autistic. She worked tirelessly in our new community. She moved to Queensland in 1980 to be with her ailing mum. Lynne had a massive heart attack in 2001. We know there are many locals who often think of Lynne and what an asset she was to our fledgling community.

In 1988, Sarah [Redern School] did a production of ‘the Magic Forest’, written, produced and starring a local mum, Denise Theobald and a hundred local school kids, mums and some dads who were involved in scenery, lighting and staging.

During this time I lost my pillar; my dad died after a short illness. With the support and help of the people, the pain of having my guts ripped out seemed less painful. I think of this happy, sad time with much affection.

Some people came and were gone again but those who stayed helped to build this community. Our families grew together and in most cases, are still staunch mates.

My son married a local girl and they’ve given me four fantastic grandkids. My daughter and her family have moved to Newcastle but their hearts are still in Minto. We look at old photos and videos and laugh at the great times we’ve had: 18th and 21st birthdays, engagements, christenings and parties for no reason at all. We’ve also seen some beautiful brides leave home for a new life.

I believe I’ve also learnt something from living in Minto from our Indigenous neighbours and other cultures. My family have grown up streetwise, knowing who to speak to, who to ignore, how to act and how to react.

It’s a warm feeling to know good times are in our hearts and minds, because the relocation means this is gone. We can’t come back to see where we grew old and where our kids grew up. I’m looking forward to the move as I feel it is time to move on but it takes many years to build friendships and trust as I have found here.