Living History

Aunt Susan's Petticoats

She was the eldest sister in my father’s family of five. Slightly built, in fact I’d guess a size eight from her photos, her career in education had reached great heights. At the age of 34 she was appointed deputy principal of an English Girls High School.

However at this age she was the only one of her sisters to remain unmarried. This wasn’t for the lack of trying but as she said there weren’t a lot of eligible men around in the 1920s. After the toll of the great war she even changed her name by deed poll from Hilda to Susan to see if that would help!

In a fit of depression she wrote to her brother Robert in Australia for help. He replied immediately assuring her of a good supply of eligible makes in Sydney. From all reports they were eager to meet young Englishwomen. In fact he had given her address to a most likely prospect and asked him to send his details to her.

One thing led to another as they say and soon Susan was on her way to Sydney to meet up with Albert. It was love (not lust) at first sight and soon Albert was romancing with great ardour. The only fly in the ointment as they saw was that he avoided the subject of marriage. Whenever she tried in different ways such as, ‘Did he like children?’, ‘What did he consider the ideal family group?’, Bert stalled saying, ‘Plenty of time to talk about that.’

But then disaster struck. Bert’s sinister past caught up with him! While walking near his house with Susan one day, he was accosted by a woman. She gave him a hearty embrace, declaring that at last she’d found him. How pleased she was that her search was over and how happy the children would be to meet up with their father again!

Bert had left his wife and children six months ago without a word. This of course drove Susan into deep depression as she had such great expectations of a spring wedding.

1932 was historic: the depression was at its height and the number of desperate people who could see a dim future grew daily. Suicide was widespread and the Sydney Harbour Bridge became the most popular place to end it all.

In deep depression one Sunday morning Susan decided to end it all by jumping over the bridge railing. Always thinking of her standing in the Northampton community she didn’t want to be hauled from the water in a bedraggled state, so she put on her very best underwear of pantaloons, three wide flowing petticoats and a large skirt. With her small stature she was enveloped in her layers of clothing.

Plucking up all her courage she mounted the railing and jumped to what she thought was her doom…

But fate intervened.

As she fell down her skirt and petticoats billowed out and she became airborne. (Thoughts of Mary Poppins crossed my mind.) As she landed gently in the water, thanks to her parachute, a passing boat picked her up with the driver admiring her outfit.

Susan took this as a sign that she still had work to be done. Never again would she attempt to end days before she was called by Saint Peter. It just wasn’t the time to leave this world.

And so it came to pass… would you believe, on the six week sea voyage back to England she again fell in love with an Australian named John. Subsequently they married and settled in Northampton where they added to the town’s population.

As the children grew Susan told them of her experience and how she had survived to live another day and care for them.

At subsequent family gatherings we had a good laugh, inserting a few words to a popular song of the thirties:

‘She flew through the air with the greatest of ease,
It was our Aunt Susan, showing her knees!’

Frank, Pearce, Australian Capital Territory

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