History

My greatest memory is of the freedom we had. There were a lot of children there but our free time was our own. We were part of the house and my mother was always available. I liked being part of a bigger family and school – and being with other children of my own age. My mother was a mother to the whole boarding school but I never felt like I missed out – I loved it. And sometimes on the holidays there’d be other children who were boarders and couldn’t go home and they’d stay there too. Mum was always the backup. Dad had all the ideas – and she made them work

In many ways Dad was ahead of his time. There were all sorts of people who couldn’t afford to pay full fees to be at the school and there were children who had been quite neglected. (It was war time.) There was one boy who couldn’t really talk properly but Dad managed to get him to play chess – there were all sorts of stories of how he helped kids.

I did all my schooling until Leaving (Year 11) at BHGS and then I did my teacher training. Then, before I married, when Mum became ill I came back and helped look after all the smaller children: the four-, five- and six-year-olds. Their parents couldn’t look after them and I knew if they weren’t there at the school they would have gone to public care.

After I married, Bill and I lived there at the school. I did sewing and made school dresses and helped with the school menu. Then a couple of years later I became a teacher in the prep school. My own two children went to school there for their primary years. For me it was a very happy time, and although part of the Walker family I regarded myself as one of the boarders and identified with them.

Dad couldn’t have done his job here without my mother and also Mr Brunning. Brunning was a very important part of the school and we regarded him as family.

I lived at the school from the age of three until the end of my schooling in 1946. School and home life was a blend of both. My fondest memories are of my contemporary friends at school, other boarders and Mr Brunning (Brunno). He played a vital role. He took public transport from Caulfield each day, rang the school bell, worked out timetables, was warmly popular and assessed the character of each pupil.

My father’s vision for the school included introducing co-education as well as the concept of blending day and boarding pupils. Co-ed boarding was then almost unique in Australia: the only other example was a school in Hobart.

My mother was totally supportive of Dad, and the boarders were also our family.

In my final year at school D. B. Coutts (former Headmaster of Huntingtower) came to our school to teach. His style was to dictate a lot of notes – but I passed anyway!

Later on Dad asked me to help in the boarding house for a time. There were a lot of little girls, often from broken homes. My job was to look after them. By then I was studying at the Conservatorium of Music at Melbourne University. It was in the evenings after uni lectures that I helped in the boarding house.

I remember that individual parents would often visit their daughters separately, bringing gifts and hoping to impress. I found that very sad.

For a while I slept upstairs near the Box Room, then ‘over the road’ in Grandma’s house. Later I moved to the Princess Mary Club in the city to complete my degree.

My teaching career involved teaching English and Music at Camberwell High, then at Warragul High where I also produced a Gilbert and Sullivan operetta each year. In 1956 I went to England to study in Selly Oak and work at Kingsley Hall in London’s East End, a community centre founded by Muriel and Doris Lester (see It Occurred To Me by Muriel Lester). Anne joined me there in January 1959. Then I worked in Edinburgh until my return to Melbourne in late 1961. I was at BHGS for Dad’s last years. It was a difficult time to be there. Dad was under a lot of stress.

I did all my schooling at BHGS. Living there with all the students and a big family I didn’t feel like I missed out on anything. Mum and Dad never put any pressure on me to follow a certain career. I think I was lucky because I became the school pianist, and then when Dad went overseas I worked in the office at the school. Before then Dad didn’t have any office staff – and he always taught full time as well!

Mine was the first year that students had to do an extra year (Matriculation) to qualify for university. I felt that was unfair: Jean had got in with Year 11! But if I had stayed on I would have been the only girl with one other boy, and we would have had to study at another school. Anyway, I wasn’t academically minded. Instead I did a year in the boarding house to help Mum. It was quite good really. I was sleeping ‘across the road’ with Grandma.

Instead of university, because I was good at Maths I did a course in comptometry (I got 100%) and got a job at the Department of Civil Aviation. There wasn’t enough work for me there, though, so I transferred to G.J. Coles. But when Dad went to England for further study for 12 months, he insisted that I become the school secretary while he was away. It was less pay, but I enjoyed the job. In fact during that time Mr Brunning, Mum and I really ran the school.

Before I started in the school office McCutcheon’s office in Queen Street had sent out the accounts to parents. As secretary I had to look after all that. Every boarder had an envelope with their name on it. If they needed money they would write out a chit, put it on a spike and I would give them cash. Each term when the accounts went out, those amounts were added to their account.

I also ordered material for girls’ uniforms. The uniforms were made and sold at Walkers’ Department Store (no relation).

It was during my time as secretary that I found out the school was struggling and that Dad was personally running on an overdraught. On his return, when faced with the facts, Dad told me: “Kath, my money is invested in my family, and that’s where I want it to be”. He had given scholarships to kids who couldn’t pay their fees! In fact Dad helped a lot of families who couldn’t afford the fees – money wasn’t a thing with Dad or Mum.

Mum was a fantastic lady. Apart from looking after all of us she had to look after all the boarders too. She was a wonderful person and she never complained. She wasn’t dominant at all but she always supported Dad.

Mr Brunning was very important too. He often used to stay at the school until the boarders had done their homework. Then he’d head home to Caulfield. The service that was given to school by Mr Brunning was everything.

I always love coming back to visit the school.

I was born in 1933 when the family and the school had already moved to the new Gwynton Park campus, so that was my home for my first 30 years of life. This included four years (1951-53) at BHGS as a student teacher before joining the Education Department and going to Melbourne Teachers College.

We had a very privileged life. A great variety of students from many places became part of our extended family. The boarding house really ran on family lines. As children we were part of the whole. Our parents lived in the centre; they had no private residence. Our extended family came from everywhere. I never doubted we were loved and valued. One of the great strengths from this has been that our large family has remained mutually supportive.

I know that my father was impressed by A. S. Neill and his writings about freedom and learning through experience. He also knew the importance of co-education; but sometimes his visions were over-shadowed by the struggle for survival.

Our mother was amazing. She really cast a mantle of love and safety over the whole operation. I remember her remarking that if one boarder was away, one of maybe 40, she felt a lessening of responsibility. I remember one August-September school holiday during an epidemic when the dining room became a hospital ward for measles sufferers who couldn’t go home. She was on duty 24 hours of every day. If the cook didn’t arrive, the meal happened anyway. First-aid was provided by her for minor injuries, impetigo infestations, and bruised egos. She also hosted the Mothers’ Club meetings.

The list of what she did is very long but she did have staff help in the house such as cooks, cleaners, laundress, and a matron who had responsibility for child care. Selection of these was not always easy. Local trades’ folk were also an integral part of the team and there was a succession of grounds maintenance men.

We had a great deal of respect for Mr Brunning. Dad and Brunno shared all knowledge. If one could not answer a question the other could. In our family the clincher in any argument about a fact was, “Mr Brunning said!” (However he did insist that travel to the Moon could never happen – but we’ll let that pass.)

Brunning joined the school when I was six months old, a fact he loved to remind me of. He took a personal interest in everyone. We often remember the aphorisms that appeared along the top of his blackboard for months at a time.

He never drove a car and travelled from Caulfield every day on two trams and a bus, or tram, train, bus: a time he valued as it was his reading time. His ageing father lived near him and he visited him daily on the way home from school. Any person hospitalised could be sure of a visit.

He taught Geography and Science, he was a Grade Six teacher for a time, he managed school supplies, he was sports master, and he was the time-keeper in charge of the bell. The list is much longer. There were frequent interruptions at his classroom door for stationery, information – whatever – all dealt with kindly. On Tuesday nights he stayed late to supervise prep and to give our parents a bit of time off. School excursions, summer camps, all featured large in his responsibility.

His premature loss to cancer was very sad indeed.

My father had natural – or built-in – authority. And yet he espoused the ideals of a non-authoritarian community where the mildest and least assertive young person could be encouraged to express him or herself. He downplayed personal competitiveness and fostered universal participation. This particularly applied to sporting and athletic endeavour where the only measure of success was for the individual to strive to improve on previous best performances.

To those who attended the school over the C.F Walker years, particularly the boarders, the school was more like a large family and there was no doubt who was the ‘father’ – or more affectionately, ‘The Boss’!

But my father did not work alone. He had two outstanding deputies – his wife and, from 1935-61, deputy headmaster Rupert Brunning. Together this triumvirate managed every facet of the school. Walker managed the school at large: the finances, the property, the public responsibilities, the educational policy; while Brunning managed the day-to-day organisation: the timetable, the ringing of the bells, the sporting equipment, school supplies, sport and athletic programs.

C.F. Walker and Brunning both taught full teaching loads, the former in Humanities and maths-related subjects, the latter in Sciences and Geography.

My mother, Ethel Walker, managed the boarding house and, more generally, the people issues related to it: the hiring and firing of staff, all the ordering and much of the cooking. She cared for boarders, mended socks, nursed the sick, prepared for special occasions, packed for camps, created wardrobes for concerts and plays. In short, she cared for the well-being of all involved while raising her own eight children: truly a remarkable woman.

Co-educational boarding at Box Hill Grammar was not a first in the country but it probably became the most comprehensive as it developed. Beyond the sleeping arrangements, the integration of boys’ and girls’ activities was complete. Classrooms were mixed at all ages, dining and recreational facilities were fully integrated, and to the degree that it was possible, so was sporting activity. Indeed, we were a small enough school to often need mixed teams to make up the numbers.

Under C.F. Walker the curriculum took on a distinctive appearance. Learning was not confined to the boundaries of the property. Whatever skills teachers had were utilised.

This community is richer for the work of our forebears. So many students have been given the confidence and capacity to go on into all walks of Australian life with self-confidence they might not otherwise have developed – and with a strong sense of service that was the common thread through all those decades and that extraordinary group of leaders.

What follows is a brief summary of Evan’s life after he left the school:

Evan did a Matriculation year at Melbourne High School in 1953 and then gained entry into the Architecture school at RMIT (known as ‘the Tech’ in those days). He completed his Bachelor’s degree at Melbourne University.

Soon after entering the architecture profession Evan won a scholarship to study for a Masters in Canada and completed that with first-class honours at the University of Toronto. He then returned to Australia and commenced setting up in practice in Melbourne.

Toronto University invited him back to Toronto in 1964 to rewrite his thesis as a book for publication, and although the book was never completed Evan did some other very important things while back in Canada: he set up the Canadian wing of his architecture and planning practice; and he met and married Judith Outerbridge, his partner for life.

In 1969 Evan and Judith, with two of their children, arrived back in Australia. Evan threw his efforts into the burgeoning practice that was to become Jackson and Walker, Architects; but he also engaged extensively in almost 10 years of social activism and the rebirth of the Victorian Branch of the Labor Party.

From 1977 until 1991 Evan was a senior member of the Victorian Parliamentary Labor Party. First in Opposition and then in Government, Evan held a great many ministerial portfolios and held other significant positions including Government Leader in the Legislative Council. He was much admired for his collaborative style of leadership.

After his parliamentary work Evan served some years as a professor and Dean of Architecture, Building and Planning at Melbourne University. He also chaired a long list of committees including the National Capital Planning Authority and the Port Arthur Authority.

In 1996 he has appointed as ‘an Officer in the General Division of the Order of Australia’: that is, he got to put ‘AO’ after his name. He was also awarded several honorary doctorates.

In 1998 Evan was diagnosed with Parkinson’s Disease and spent his next two decades focussed, more than ever, on family, art and social justice.

Evan died on 16 February, 2015, aged 79.

Living for my entire childhood – from birth until the age of 16 – at the school with my brothers and sisters plus many boarders and day pupils, I was actually uneasy when I was away from the school! Even after going off to college, I lived across the road with my Grandma. and with Evan and Frances for a time while they were at university. There were frequent visits from our mother who would come over the road to see us in the evenings after putting the little children to bed in the boarding house.

On some school holidays I often stayed with friends amongst the boarders when they went home to their country farms. We had a lot of holidays staying on farms. So yes, I had to share my life with a large group of people but I can’t say I resented it. I loved it when all the kids came back after the holidays. I’d usually already staked out the bed I wanted in the dorm … I was always dying for that moment when they’d all turn up.

Our mother was enormously important. She was the one who held it all together. She was a quiet woman, very solid and always there for everyone. You could go to her with anything. She was always available and heard everyone’s problems. She stepped in when things would get a little bit unruly. She was an extraordinary presence. She was not always an exceptionally well person but she had great inner strength – very generous and extraordinary in many ways. I don’t think my father could have run the school without my mother. He had a strong personality too but she was the rudder.

My father was very keen on getting things done. He helped build the school and I remember helping with the construction and painting of the classrooms during many holidays.

He always wanted the school to be co-ed and he wanted it to be more progressive. He wasn’t terribly keen on uniforms – he was a child of the Depression and World War I when he lost his beloved older brother Ivan in Flanders – and so he wasn’t keen on anything to do with régimes, uniforms … he was very much a peacemaker and a pacifist. He opposed the war. He didn’t preach at us but we knew that was at the back of his theory. He would seek input from the students and get a combination of ideas to consider what he thought should happen at the school. Sometimes he used our ideas and sometimes he didn’t; but he was a progressive educator – there’s no doubt about that.

The school’s concert trips and tours were a highlight. I remember the incredible concert tour of Norfolk Island on 1952 when I was 14. We stayed with locals, travelled around the island on the back of trucks, putting on concerts that included short plays, recitals, musical trios with violin, cello, piano, poetry…. you name it! I met some people from Norfolk Island years later, in Fiji, and they told me that visit (that also included dances, church services and feasts put on by the locals). It was something they had never forgotten – all due to Mr Wilson, Governor/Administrator of Norfolk Island at the time and father of Nancy, Billy, Anna and Stan Wilson who were all once boarders at BHGS.

At the school we had horses, cows, vegetable gardens. Nugget was Dad’s draught horse – he’d mow the oval with a mower contraption that the horse pulled along, and he also ran the farm section of the school. He liked nothing better than to be on the farm. But the next moment he would be teaching Latin. Or reciting Shakespeare. He had a brilliant mind. That was just Dad.

Of course there is another person in all this: Mr Brunning. Brunning was enormously important to the school. He taught and administered alongside Dad for almost the entire time my father was at the school. And Brunning was important in another way: he had a much more sensitive nature. He could see if you were in trouble or needed to talk and he’d sit down and talk with you.

Brunning would arrive early in the morning and often leave very late at night. His classroom was full of supplies. There were always people knocking on his door to ask for something.

One of his main subject areas was Geography. I’ve travelled the world widely since then and I have many times thanked Mr Brunning for the basic knowledge I gained from his classes. Often, I would arrive in a new country in Africa, Asia or Latin America and remember what he had taught us about the capital city, the culture, minerals and resources, politics. He was a superb teacher and he played a core role in the school

After my initial tertiary education at the Kindergarten Training College in Kew, I travelled to England, working at Kingsley Hall with my sister Jean for a while, then as a relief teacher in primary schools in the East End of London. I also worked in the office of the Royal Hospital in Chelsea for some months, spending summer months hitch-hiking throughout the UK and Europe. With my friend Ruth Lechte, we then went as ‘landed emigrants’ to Canada, sponsored by my brother Evan who was a graduate student at the University of Toronto.

In late 1961 I worked briefly in the Box Hill Grammar School office, and I played in the Box Hill Methodist Women’s Cricket Team on the BHGS oval with my sister Frances. We were the opening bats!

In February 1962 I flew to Fiji, where I lived and worked for 11 years, jointly founding with Ruth Lechte the Fiji YWCA, which included the establishment of multi-racial kindergartens. We also engaged in youth work and women’s rights activities.

Awarded a scholarship to Indiana University in 1972, I studied development communications, gaining an MA and Ph.D in Education from the school of Instructional Systems Technology. My dissertation focussed on development communications in Fiji.

While still at Indiana U I participated in 1975 in the first UN world conference on women and was subsequently invited to New York to start the International Women’s Tribune Centre (IWTC). I spent the next 26 years there as director, working with women worldwide on issues concerning gender equity, development and peace. IWTC’s focus was on information, communications, technical assistance and training with and for rural and low-income women in Asia/Pacific, Latin America/Caribbean and Africa. IWTC also played a major role in the organising of the three UN world conferences on women and NGO forums in Copenhagen (1980), Nairobi (1985) and Beijing (1995).

This deep interest and concern for international affairs and human rights undoubtedly came from my early learnings at Box Hill Grammar School and most specifically from discussions with my mother and father, who were both integrally involved with global issues. Dad was a founding member of one of the first United Nations Association branches in Australia (Box Hill Branch) and was a great admirer of Dr Herbert Evatt, Australia’s President of the fledgling United Nations General Assembly from 1948 to 1949.

Note: in 2004 Anne was nominated as a Member of the Order of Australia (AM) ‘For service to the international women’s movement as a pioneer in the areas of human rights and economic and social justice, and as an advocate for the advancement of women in developing countries’.

I lived either in the boarding house at the school or ‘across the road’ at 352 Station Street, Box Hill, from my birth in 1939 until my marriage in 1961. By then Dad had bought a little house next door to 352, opposite the school gates, and my husband Alex and I rented it for a while.

By the time I had reached Year 7 my older sisters had already left school for further education, but they each had various roles still to play on the staff of the school. Mavis was assistant matron (1946-52), then became a primary school teacher there (1960-64 ). Jean served as assistant matron (1950-1951) then much later as English teacher in the Senior School (1962-63). Kath was assistant matron during 1944 and was the school pianist, and then school secretary (1952–1956). Ruth worked full-time as a student teacher in the primary school (1950-1953).

Being closer in age to Evan, Anne and Robert I shared more school experiences with them: catching yabbies in the dam and cooking them in the laundry on the old stove, picking blackberries in the dam paddock, riding Miss Tunbridge’s horses, climbing trees or sitting in groups on the grass and chatting. Their friends became my friends. Between us we helped care for the new boarders – and felt the sadness as our friends moved on: to other schools, or ‘home’ again, sometimes overseas.

The school, so free in many ways, also had an established routine that gave it a sense of stability. The boarders all helped with regular duties such as ‘rosters’ to set the tables, make the porridge and toast for breakfast and to wash up afterwards, and to serve the evening meal and do the dishes afterwards. After the war, when there was little money for kitchen equipment, Dad had wooden plates made at the Station Timber Yards – and a rack to drip-dry them after washing.

Ice was delivered to the school regularly for the small ice-chest (no refrigerator until the ‘50s) and meat for the midday main meal was delivered daily and Mr Bonner the baker called every day with fresh bread.

We walked up past the tennis courts to school in the morning and were back for a hot midday lunch. Dad would sit at the main table during meals, ensuring that we did not waste food and maintaining order. The meals were good – and on roast dinner days we would gather in the ‘Library’ waiting for the dinner bell. The first at the dinner table could then claim any extra roast potatoes by saying “bags first over”.

When lessons finished there was always bread and jam or a piece of fruit for the hungry boarders served from the kitchen window at the boarding house.

After the evening meal and before homework we had free time. When the weather was cool we would play board games or ‘jacks’ on the carpet or read books in the ‘Library’ next to the ‘Breakfast Room’ – the one room where Dad and Mum could sometimes have some peace. If things got noisy Dad might appear at the door to say “Keep it down to a dull roar”. It worked.

On long summer evenings we could play outside: often ‘Kick the Tin’, or ‘British Bulldog’ on the oval. But at 7pm sharp there was ‘prep’, homework time, in the dining room; and mostly Dad, but occasionally Mr Brunning or (later) George Wilson would supervise and give help where needed.

Then off to bed. Unlike most kids in families we did not have our own room. We slept with the boarders and, as the numbers and ages changed, we moved to the appropriate dormitory or area of the boarding house or, in the boys’ case, to the ‘Pav’ or the ‘Cottage’.

I was sick from time to time, and at such times I was moved onto a folding iron bed in an alcove in Mum’s bedroom. I felt very secure there, even though at times Mum had to roll Dad over to stop his loud snoring

The highlight of the week was the school dance in the assembly hall. The chairs were pushed back and the floor waxed to make it slippery. We could practice the foxtrot or the waltz after school.

Our church, being Methodist, did not approve of dances on church property but Dad could see the benefit of the social experience. So the BHGS dance became very popular for the church youth club members as well as the boarders.

There were also concert trips to country areas. As well as being fun (we sang, showed school movies, did gymnastics, presented drama pieces etc) these were a way that Dad devised to help advertise the school – particularly the boarding sector.

Dad also had a saying that ‘to produce teamwork one must have a project’. One such project was the yearly drama production (often quite adventurous) presented in the Box Hill Town Hall. We gained a lot from being involved with stage performances and from elocution taught by Mrs McKenzie.

So many memories …

Dad left BHGS in 1963 and he and Mum moved into 352. Those last few years prior to the move had not been easy for Dad. The council had wanted him to go and said they would turn BHGS into a boys’ school, knowing that Dad had said: “If the girls go, I go”.

In fact in the end he accepted his fate philosophically, watched the comings and goings at the school with interest and was visited from time to time by Rev. Michael Norman, an exceptional replacement and inspired choice as principal of BHGS. Michael rebranded the school as Kingswood College, and my brother Robert taught there in 1967 and 1968, which was during the Michael Norman era.

It was a privilege to return to Kingswood as a teacher myself (1977-1993). Looking back I realise how fortunate I have been.

I arrived at the school in 1942, a few days after my birth, and occupied the wicker cot beside Mum and Dad’s bed until I was old enough to join the other students in the little boys’ dormitory.

I spent my last couple of years as a student living in the Cottage at the top of the property, helping to supervise the younger boys who slept up there with us – just as I had been beautifully supervised by older boys along with a ‘matron’ years before.

Dad and Mum were both deeply moral, upright people, both highly articulate and both caring. I didn’t know until years later (when I was doing a research paper on the school for my education diploma) that they often took on kids that they knew were never going to able to pay the low fees charged by the school.

Dad had always said there weren’t many good reasons for running a private boarding school, but there were a few: to keep families of kids together; to rescue kids from unsatisfactory home environments; and to satisfy the needs of kids from rural and remote places. But at the time, living with those at-risk kids, I had no notion that they needed the school the way they did. They were just kids. Dad and Mum never talked to me about why they needed to be there with us.

School life was home life: no question. I think I was as close to the friends of Frances and Anne as I was to Fran and Anne. And we certainly shared our Mum with hordes of kids over the years. Even when we went camping over the school holidays there were usually a few ‘stragglers’ from the boarding house with us: kids who for one reason or another were not holidaying with their own families.

Dad once taught us an interesting lesson about rules, strictness and fairness. He got us (the boarders) to make up a set of rules for the boarding house that we would have to agree on and then adhere to. Of course we went at the task with alacrity and made up a list of nasty, strict rules: we were kids! Then when life became downright unpleasant and we hated our own rules, he pointed out that there is a lot about strictness and rules that just isn’t necessary.

I think Dad and Mr Brunning had a shared vision about curriculum and direction – and parenting too, I suspect. I actually think they were ahead of their generation. I think Dad was quite advanced in his understanding of what education was. He was a huge supporter of co-ed and he really did believe that boys and girls should grow up together. He also had a kind of mission to country families to keep their kids together – I think BHGS was the cheapest non-Catholic boarding school in Victoria, if not Australia! Mum and Dad ran this place on a shoestring. They were constantly thinking of innovative and economical ways to run the school – growing vegies, selling milk, running pigs to utilise food scraps – and they were both aware that these activities were also a marvellous experience for kids

And the arts were big at our school too, especially the performing arts. Along with the horses, the cows, trees and the vegie garden, art, farming and creative play were all part of life.

After school and university I worked as a teacher of humanities and music in various inner-suburban high schools; and at Kingswood College I taught English, French and Biblical Studies for a couple of years. I also taught in England, Saudi Arabia and Turkey for a number of years.

While I was teacher-in-charge of a busy English Language Centre in Melbourne’s western suburbs during the Kennett years I was instructed to declare half of my staff in excess: a very nasty task. I did what I was told, and I registered my protest by including my own name on the list of excess teachers; and began a new career as a book-editor and Hansard writer.

My next career move was a move back to Turkey where I set up a hazelnut orchard and became the first person in my village to get onto the Internet. During those few happy years I did some writing: first collaborating on a book about child-rearing patterns in 44 cultures represented in the Australian community, and then collaborating along with my sister Frances and sister-in-law Judith on a long personal memoir by Evan. (Now on sale!)

Evan Walker, AO (11 October 1935 – 16 February 2015) was the fifth child born to Kingswood College’s longest-serving principal Charles Fitzroy (C.F) Walker and his wife Ethel.

He arrived at the (then) Box Hill Grammar School property a few days after his birth where he was raised and educated along with his seven siblings (Mavis, Jean, Kathleen, Ruth, Anne, Frances and Robert), fellow students and boarders.

Attending the school between 1941 and 1951 Evan achieved excellent academic results and was also a keen sportsman.

After completing school, he studied architecture at RMIT then a bachelor’s degree at the University of Melbourne where he topped his final year in 1959.

Awarded a Canadian Commonwealth Scholarship, Evan then moved to Canada’s east where he undertook a master’s degree in architecture at the University of Toronto, graduating with first-class honours in 1962.

From there, his career as an architect spanned almost 18 years across both Canada and Australia.

After founding a Melbourne practice in 1963, Evan moved to Toronto expanding the practice to specialise in university projects across Canada and the USA. In 1965, he married his wife Judith, a social worker. Together, they raised three children – Chris, Ben and Rebecca.

On Evan’s return to Melbourne in 1969, he was commissioned by the Victorian government’s education minister to assess the needs of schools in inner Melbourne.

This was the catalyst for the young architect to try his hand at a more influential role in planning and development issues.

Standing as a Labor candidate for the seat of Hawthorn in 1973 and 1976, he entered State Parliament in 1979 after winning the Upper House seat of Melbourne Province and was soon appointed Deputy Opposition Leader.

With the election of a Labor government in 1982, Evan held a broad sweep of portfolios over the next eight years including planning and environment, agriculture and rural affairs, Aboriginal affairs, arts, post-secondary education, conservation, major projects, and industry, technology and resources.

As Planning Minister, he was instrumental in Melbourne’s CBD planning controls and played a pivotal role in the transformation of the Southbank precinct.

In 1990, Evan resigned from the state government ministry and in 1991, moved to academia where he was professorial fellow and Dean of Melbourne University’s faculty of Architecture and Planning until 2000.

During the 1990s Evan contributed to numerous boards, committees and taskforces within the planning, housing, arts and community sectors.

He was a strong advocate for the involvement of young people in the arts and served as president of the Council of the Victorian College of the Arts from 1995 – 1999.

Evan’s achievement and contributions attracted numerous awards, including an honorary doctorate from Victoria University of Technology; the Lord Mayor’s Award for contribution to planning of Melbourne; the President’s Award from the Royal Australian Institute of Architects, a Centenary Medal, and in 1996, an Order of Australia (AO).

But a stellar career and lifetime of public and community service did not diminish his fondness and regard for Kingswood College.

He was the architect behind the College’s C.F Walker suite of buildings and remained in close contact with many from the Kingswood College community.

While recent years of ill-health forced him to withdraw from public life, he continued to work on family history research and writing his memoirs.

Evan is remembered with great affection and admiration by the members of the Kingswood College community who are very proud to call him one of their own.

David Pollock was a student at Kingswood College from Year 7 (in 1979) to Year 12 (1984).

In particular David remembers liking the way that the Senior School operated for Year 11 and 12 students. Students were treated more like independent adults—for example, there was no daily morning assembly or uniform.

‘We didn’t feel “forced” to do things we didn’t want. The focus was more on trying to get us to see the value of attending classes and doing homework rather than being “forced” to. Also several teachers allowed us to use their first names.’

David felt that although this philosophy may not have been suitable for everyone, it helped prepare students for the ‘real world’. The more relaxed regime did suit David, and he did well academically (except in English, as he disliked writing essays!).

One of the benefits of Kingswood College’s policies at the time was that David feels he learnt a lot about being considerate of other people in different situations, such as those with disabilities. David found the atmosphere very positive, and felt accepted. He suggests that he was ‘respected for just being myself and not criticising others’.

In describing his values and attitudes, David says, ‘I’m not religious but I strongly believe in the age-old maxim that we all need to treat others as we’d like to be treated ourselves. That extends to treating future generations with respect—in other words leaving the world in at least as a good a shape as we’ve enjoyed’.

On leaving Kingswood College David did a Science degree at Monash University, inspired by his love of wildlife, and worked studying native animals. But by the age of 25 David changed track and went to do his teaching qualification in Darwin. He chose Darwin for ‘something different’, and because he never liked the cold winters of Victoria. David then taught science at Darwin High for several years, travelled to Africa discovering the animals and culture that is so different to the ‘developed’ parts of the world, and later taught in a small remote Aboriginal community in Central Australia.

David has suffered from ME/Chronic Fatigue Syndrome for 15 years and finds it a real struggle to work half-time (at most). At present he is a lecturer in screen and media (film-making) near Darwin at a tertiary Institute for Indigenous adults.

David and his wife have two young boys, and expect that they will be kept busy being a family for at least the next 10 years! He is considering moving back to Victoria, but finds real-estate prices very high compared to the Territory.

In 2000, David took time off to travel around Australia. A couple of times he joined protests in Victoria and Western Australia including ‘sitting’ (and sleeping) up in some very tall old trees to help prevent logging of old-growth forests. He says, ‘hearing the chain saws nearby and the giant trees falling throughout each day was hard, but it was more effective than signing a petition! Of course we all need logging for the paper products we use, but let’s use plantation timber—not trees that are 100–300+ years old!’

David’s recipe for happiness and fulfillment is to keep things simple: ‘The simple life is best, rather than rushing too much to do things or buy things that aren’t really needed anyway’.