Tonight a work friend posted on Facebook about the origins of her name. So I followed the link and typed in my birth family name, Wittingslow, and was directed to a page with the history of the name in Australia:
For many years Wittingslow was Australia’s (and one of the world’s) largest travelling carnival operations, spanning more than 60 years..
The explanation, as begins above, is a history I know well. The founder of the Wittingslow carnival was Tom Wittingslow, my great uncle. In later years my immediate family was somewhat estranged from my extended family and as a result I don’t actually know many of my relations anymore. What happened between me being a little girl and a ‘carnie kid’ during several summers of my childhood and the rest of my life where I haven’t seen most of this family I don’t really know. What I do remember though is the wonderful summers on the beachfront being part of the Wittingslow carnival on the other side of the fence.
It felt special being on the other side of that fence. As an adult I have heard taunts about carnival workers that I guess I don’t understand. Because what I knew was magical. Maybe because I was a kid. Or maybe because it was simply special on the other side of that fence. We did anything we wanted. We were young and our parents were strict enough that we weren’t allowed to run wild, but it was a family on that side of the fence. Even people who didn’t know each other by name looked out for each other. But best of all was the complete and absolute world that left reality behind and allowed us carnie kids to be whoever and whatever we wanted to be… all day long.
Whether it was playing in the sand, or walking to the dangerous White Cliffs where man-eating plants lived, or swimming and making sand castles. We’d race our horses with their manes and tails flying behind us in the wind. We’d wander through the empty carnival by day under the baking sun and collect torn lucky dip tickets and laugh at the clowns and pick up coins that had dropped out of people’s pockets on the rides. We all named our horses and each bragged that our merry-go-round horse could beat all the others. We’d hide in the gypsy’s tent in the middle of the carnival and dare each other to make her cockatoo squawk and then run screaming when he did in case she appeared and cast a spell on us. We dodged seaweed in the shallows with our nan, invented stories about the hermit in the hut in the middle of the sea and we ruled the sand dunes where the sea grasses would tickle our legs as we ran down to the sea every morning. And we never went to the other side of the fence.
But the most magical time of all was as night fell and the carnival came to life and we were all ushered into our caravan beds as our parents went off to work in the carnival. The lights would dance across the darkened roof as music blared from speakers and the screams of teenagers grew loud and soft as the cha-cha threw them around and around. The sounds of Tijuana Taxi and Spanish Flea would twirl around my head. And I’d fall asleep content that the world was a magical place of fairy floss and laughter.
And then the summer ended and we went back to our everyday lives where parents worked real jobs and kids went to school. But we had the next magical summer, and the next…
And then I grew up… and the carnival was over.
Tags: beach, carnival, cha cha, merry-go-round, rye, spanish flea, summer, wittingslow
That was nice to read. I am wondering who you are. My name is Susan. I am Tom Wittingslow’s step-daughter,he was my father since I was ten years old. And I also was at the summer carnivals in summer. I miss him greatly. Not really the carnivals- upon growing up, I didnt like them much, but as a kid- it was exciting and yes- as you say- so differnt and magical at times. All the best, Susan.
Hi Susan, what lovely a surprise! I always think it’s probably only a couple of people ever read my blog so I’m always shocked if someone says they read it, let along leave a message. My grandfather was Tom’s brother Albert. My dad was his son from his first marriage. As I say we didn’t see much of the family but in the later years of his life we were in touch with pa again. My dad was great at remembering family histories and so I grew up hearing about family that I didn’t really know. It was a bit strange. My dad died nearly two years ago now and like you I miss my dad a great deal. I’ve been thinking about him a lot lately which is what inspired this blog post. I must admit I haven’t been to the carnival in maybe 20 years and probably won’t ever go again as an adult. But the memory of them as a kid is amazing. Abi
Hi again, I just checked this blog aagian and saw you had replied. I remember your grandfathe, uncle Bert and Aunty Evelyn, down at the Rye carnival. They and myself used to work in the lucky envelopes, when I was a teenager. Uncle Bert was very tight on watching me- he had to have his prizes on the lucky envelopes just -so. There’s something about your gandfather you may or may not know of too, which used to fascinate us. He used to sing just about everything. Not whilst talkin to you, but, whilst he was going about his day. On the lucky envelopes, he used to sing Lucky lucky oh lucky envelopes, etc all the time. But , more than that, we would hear him about his day, at his caravan and around the place. If he was feeding the birds, he would be singing, “Oh, I’m fedding the birds, feeding the birds”, if he was watering plants , then that is what he would sing about. you could check up on what he was doing without having to see him!! Gotta go- internet cafe closing- from Susan
Hi Susan, I didn’t know that about pa. But I didn’t get to spend time with him growing up so unfortunately I missed that sort of thing. It was lovely of you to share that though and even though it’s not one of my own memories I’ll be able to picture him doing that. Abi
Hi Abi,
My sister Gina and I just read your blog. We are Tom’s grandaughters, Des Wittingslow was our father. I still live the carnival life and both our kids enjoy the magic of Rye and rosebud carnival in the summer. Thanks for the great words – you write beautifully!!!
Love Lisa and Gina – your cousins.
Hi Lisa and Gina, It’s great to ‘meet’ you here! I can’t believe from one blog post, that as I said to Susan, I didn’t even think anyone read, that I’ve met members of my family online. I wish dad were still here so I could tell him. I certainly know of your dad because my dad would often talk about his family and my nan had a great memory for who was related to who. Even though I haven’t been back to the carnival for ages it was really nice to read that your kids enjoy the carnival life too and even more great memories are being shared by each generation. Abi
tom wittingslow was my grandfather too such an interesting man who was a great story teller particulary when telling you about the old days when he first started out in the buisness of guessing your weight i often think about him and miss him he really was quite unique meg wittingslow
Hi Abi,
Im Sasha Wittingslow. Just thought I would introduce myself, I have just read your blog and comments from Susan and my sisters. Very lovely … I have memories very similar to yours.
Take care
Sasha
Hi Sasha and Megan
I’ve been off air as I forgot my password to my own blog! So I haven’t been able to post. But it’s so lovely to hear from everyone. Each reply from all of you has surprised me each time that you have all read my post and responded and how weird it is that we don’t even know each other despite us being, um, I think it must be second cousins (my nan was always so good at family tree lines, she would have certainly known our official relationship). It’s interesting that Uncle Tom started with ‘guessing your weight’ as I had always heard it was two-up. Funny how family history can change through the telling of it so it’s nice to know the real history.
Abi