In the early 1950’s Mr Wieman arrived in Fremantle with his
tiny wife, fourteen children, and two- hundred and fifty doors, and a plan. Mr and Mrs Wieman believed, rightly, that
they’d landed in a country filled with opportunity.
Like
many Dutch migrants they went to lived in a suburb called Queens Park where the
land was affordable, and most importantly it was on a railway line. Mr Wieman
was a man of ingenuity; he had come to Australia with his two-hundred and fifty
doors because he planned to start up a door factory in Welshpool which is a
suburb close to Queens Park.
Mr Wieman
soon discovered that his two-hundred and fifty Dutch doors weren’t wanted. They
simply didn’t fit in with the climate and type of houses being built in West
Australia. Disappointed Mr Wieman might
have been, but he quickly made use of the doors that their new country didn’t
need – he made a house out of his doors, and it quickly became known as the
Door House.
I
remember the Door House well. As a child,
I ran through the house, opening doors, closing doors. I don’t remember any windows;
it seemed it only had doors. It wasn’t a
large house, how could it be, two-hundred and fifty doors only goes so far. It
was square shaped, and simply not big enough for the Wieman family, hence they
moved to go live in a house in Welshpool. Their new house sat alongside a factory
that Mr Wieman had set up and ran successfully for many years. The factory made
doors and fly-wired doors for Australian homes.
Many
families lived in the Door House.
For me,
the Door House came to symbolise the wonderful lifestyle and opportunities
available in Australia. Doors didn’t
close; they only opened in this country, giving poor migrants a chance, a
chance at having a better life.
Sadly,
the Door House is no longer there. But the memories of it live on in the hearts
and minds of many people, especially the Dutch community who lived in Queens
Park at the time.
Wonderful story, Marlish, and a wonderful analogy, too.
ReplyDeleteWhat a lovely vignette, Marlish! 'A window closes, a door opens ...' Australia, the land of opportunity ...
ReplyDeleteNice use of symbolism, Marlish.
ReplyDeleteAll of my family (apart from me) are from Victoria, but at different times various family members (apart from me and my errant mother and father) came over here to live for a time. I have an aunt who is a sister of mercy and she lived for a while in the big convent in Queens Park. The place fascinated me because it was so huge and ancient. But sadly, being a boy from the northern 'burbs, I have no recollection of The Door House. Your vignette is the first I've heard of it, in fact.
Thank you for your kind comments Anonymous a.k.a someone I know. It's funny what sticks in your mind when you're a child. I'd like to think that Mr Wieman, if he were still alive, would be quite chuffed that his Door House has had such a profound effect. In short, we never know how or what we do influences other people, be they young or older. Marlish
ReplyDeleteGood to hear from you Glen , and thanks for the nice comment. And how absolutely amazing, as I remember the Sisters of Mercy convent in Queens Park with alarming clarity. I went to Saint Josephs Primary School and was taught by the sister of Mercy from 1960 to 1968. Had to repeat grade one because of my appalling English. I remember the convent because it was in the same grounds as the school. And also because at different times I had to go to the convent kitchen. I really got in strife once with the nuns when I nicked strawberries from their kitchen garden! From a child's perspective , yes, it must have seem big and ancient. And I guess, for it's time it was large, but it was relatively modern. Marlish
ReplyDeleteDo you know any of the children of this family? My father was a young sailor when they made their voyage to Australia in 1954. He remembers the two oldest daughters of this family Wieman.
ReplyDeleteMy grandma is one of the children :)
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