Determined to help during the depression, ‘The Daily News’ established The Golden Apple Appeal as a way to raise money for single unemployed women, children of the unemployed, and orphanages. The Appeal involved selling apples (provided by Western Australian growers) in Perth. Each apple was wrapped in paper and cost one shilling. The paper had a number printed on it, which the buyer kept until the officials conducted a raffle. There were two prizes, and the people with the winning numbers could win either £50 or £100.
The Appeal was popular, and interest only grew when Hoyts Theatres Ltd agreed to help. On the 18th and 19th July 1931, apple sales exceeded expectations, and funds raised totalled over £2,000. For the following weekend, the publicity manager of Hoyts, Bert Snelling, came up with a novel idea to generate further interest: an open-air wedding.
Warning: this story discusses suicide. If you are struggling and need help, please contact Lifeline on 13 11 14 or visit lifeline.org.au.
On 24 November 1929, His Excellency the Governor, Colonel Sir William Campion, officially unveiled Western Australia’s War Memorial in Kings Park. Built on a high point of the park, it overlooked the Swan River and the city of Perth. For most people, it was a place of remembrance. However, perhaps for some, it was a reminder of the pain they endured.
Eleven days later, at 8:30 am on 5 December, park ranger, Ernest Harwood, found a man’s body lying face down against the memorial. He looked to be about 28 years old and was five feet nine inches tall. He was sturdily built and neatly dressed in a navy blue serge suit. He was also wearing a white linen shirt and collar, white cotton singlet, light blue tie with purple spots, blue suspenders with white stripes, black shoes and socks, and a grey felt hat with a light-coloured band.
The man had a high forehead, full face, small nose, brown eyes, and was missing his top front teeth. He had brushed back his curly auburn hair. Police noted two identifying features: he was missing the tip of his right little finger, and there was a tattoo on the inside of his right forearm – a picture of a woman’s head and shoulders above an anchor.
The cause of death was evident. Clasped in his right hand was a six-chamber revolver with five bullets and a spent cartridge. A bullet wound on the right side of his temple indicated that he had taken his life.
In 1894, Veryard and Son’s of the Roller Bakery in Perth baked a large Christmas cake weighing six hundredweight (over 300 kg). It was incredibly popular, and, whether they meant to or not, a Christmas tradition was born. They continued to bake cakes, and, each year, the weight increased. In 1895, the cake weighed ten hundredweight (over 500 kg), and in 1896 it weighed fifteen hundredweight (over 750 kg).
Regardless of the size of the cake, every piece sold. Many customers missed out, and, as 1897 progressed, they decided that the Christmas cake for that year had to surpass that of previous years.
The Daily News (Perth, WA :1882 – 1950); 9 February 1914; Page 8; A Haunted House
Located behind the Brisbane Hotel and running diagonally from Beaufort Street to Bulwer Street, Padbury Street was a quiet street unknown to many people in Perth. In February 1914, that was all to change.
Along the short street were many two-story houses, lived in by various residents. Two of the houses were empty and available for lease. Of those two, one (number 66) had only recently become vacant. The reason the family gave for leaving: they believed it was haunted.
It was averred that the occupiers had for some time past been hearing weird sounds in various parts of the building, for which they could not account.
The Daily News (Perth, WA :1882 – 1950); 9 February 1914; Page 8; A Haunted House
On 11 August 1921, the Minister for Agriculture, Henry Maley, collected his morning mail. Among the envelopes was an ordinary grey one, postmarked Mornington Mills. He opened it. Inside was a single playing card, the seven of diamonds.
There was nothing written or drawn on the card. Assuming it was a prank, he tore it up and threw it in the bin. Later that day, he attended a meeting of the Executive Council. During the meeting, Chief Justice, Sir Robert McMillan, showed that he too had received an identical envelope, also containing the seven of diamonds. He further revealed that Justices Robert Burnside and John Northmore had received the same.
540 applicants responded to the advertisements placed in ‘The West Australian’ and ‘Call’ newspapers asking for someone “to sleep all night in a graveyard“. While some people sent joke responses, others were genuinely interested in meeting the requirements in order to receive the “high pay” of five pounds.
Man or woman (excluding spiritualists) could apply. The main condition was that they had to be chained to a “warm, comfortable” bed from 10:30 pm on 28 April 1920 until daylight on the following morning. They also had to spend the night alone (without even a dog for company) but were allowed to take a gun “to drive away any human disturbers.“
At 7:30 pm on 12 August 1906, the Bradbury family left their home on Thomas Street in West Perth and attended the Congregational Church service. Frank Bradbury (aged 12) was last to leave and shut the door behind him without locking it. At 9 pm the family returned to find the door wide open and the rooms and furniture ransacked. Missing from the premises was a silver chain and locket, a silver watch, a silver matchbox and one shilling and five pence.
On the following afternoon Siegfried Bremer, a pawnbroker on Barrack Street in Perth, was working in his shop when he was approached by Henry Plant. Henry (giving a false name) had a silver chain and locket he wanted to sell. Siegfried asked the relevant questions and, finding the answers suspicious, decided to call the police.
Having worked hard as a teamster in the Government boring party near Mingenew, William Ernest Ellison was due for a holiday. Intending to return after the New Year, he left his portmanteau containing his work clothes and other possessions with Coorow storekeeper, Mr Todd, and on 15 September 1912, he travelled on the Midland railway line to Perth.
He arrived on the same day and took a room at the Grand Central Coffee Palace on Wellington Street. He was designated room 19 and a workmate named Charles Henry Spargo occupied the room across the hallway. Throughout his time in Perth, William was seen on the streets, at the Coffee Palace and around the racecourse, often in company with Spargo. He withdrew various amounts from his bank account on the 21st and 28th September and on the 1st, 5th, 19th and 22nd October. There was nothing unusual about these withdrawals and it was thought a large amount of the money was spent betting at the races.
William was originally from South Australia and kept in regular contact with his parents who remained there. He also had three brothers in Western Australia. On 24 October, a man named Cameron Arthur delivered him a message from his brother, Frank. In the message Frank asked him to go to Gunyidi and then to Nugadong for work. At the time William was seeking employment and was pleased to hear from him. He planned to leave on Saturday, 26 October 1912.
Despite agreeing to meet his brother, William never arrived. On 28 October his accommodation (paid a week in advance) ceased and the proprietor of the Coffee Palace simply assumed that he had left. Correspondence to his family stopped and 18 months passed by. During that time Spargo was tried, convicted and hanged for the murder of Gilbert Jones in Broome. The mangrove murder was the talk of the town and speculation was rife as to whether Spargo had killed other men. On 14 January 1914, George O’Hern of Watheroo contacted the Criminal Investigation Branch (C.I.B.) on the brothers’ behalf. William had vanished and they suspected foul play.
…there are some who have the leisure and the inclination to make the police court their drama, their comedy, their pulpit.
Mirror (Perth, WA : 1921 – 1956); 31 May 1924; Page 3; Just “Ginger”
Long retired and seeking something of interest to do, Ginger started attending the Perth Police Court. In contrast to other people who regularly sat in the public gallery and were regarded as “dead-beats, hoboes and beer sparers” he was considered “different from the usual type.” He was short, stocky, middle aged and sported a walrus moustache that “covers his mouth and sends out lobster-like tentacles…” He was going bald but what remained of his hair was red. No one knew his real name and thus the nickname, ‘Ginger’ stuck.
Whether indulging a morbid taste in amusement, or an interest in human nature, warped by circumstance or crime, “Ginger’s” unchanging expression does not reveal, but he has seen innumerable unfortunate citizens, and the dregs of humanity caught in the toils of the law, and has watched many faces turned from freedom towards the temporary oblivion of the prison.
The West Australian (Perth, WA : 1879 – 1954); 15 December 1924; Page 8; News and Notes