One of the things that really annoys me about today’s world is the argument that people have to apologise for, and feel guilty about, what happened in the past.
That’s not to say that what was done in the past was not wrong … in many cases it was and must be acknowledged.
All sorts of things were wrong in the past. But they were done at a time when values and beliefs were different. We now know them to be wrong and society has changed accordingly.
We don’t discriminate against people based on the colour of their skin. We don’t accept child labour, although sadly it does still happen in Third World countries. Discrimination against women is no longer acceptable, although there are parts of the non-Western world that seem to feel it is absolutely fine. “No driver’s licence for you, dear lady.”
It is also true when assessing history that two things, one good and one bad, can happen at the same time. At a moment in time we can condemn one aspect of society and admire another.
Great works of art and philosophy and public discourse were being created at a time also marked by slavery, discrimination, brutality and unjust wars. Do we condemn everything from that time or admire the good parts and reject, condemn and never repeat the aspects that we now know to be wrong?
Which brings me to my mate Dave and the house he and his wife share in Mackay.
Dave and his wife live in a house bought by his wife’s grandfather many, many years ago, a Queenslander on Shakespeare St.
Dave told me the other day that his wife’s grandfather, Bill Higham, was a senior engineer in the sugar industry who worked at the North Eton Mill in the 1940s.
At some stage in the mid-1940s, Bill was confronted by his employer and told to convert to Catholicism.
In fact, he was given an ultimatum: become a Catholic or you will be sacked.
Now Bill wasn’t the sort of bloke who was going to be pushed around and told what, if any, religion he was going to be. He refused to take the easy way out and convert to Catholicism. So, he was sacked from his job as senior engineer at the North Eton Mill.
Imagine someone being sacked today for not being a particular religion. Rightly, it wouldn’t happen.
Fortunately, Bill moved on and got a job as head engineer at the Farleigh Mill, working there until his retirement.
During those early days at the Farleigh Mill, Bill bought a house in Shakespeare St where he and his wife raised three daughters … the same house that his grand daughter lives in today with her husband, my mate Dave.
It’s a typically beautiful, highest Queenslander with the polished floorboards, high ceilings, tongue and groove walls … an authentic work of art and functionality created by builders and who did quality work designed to stand the test of time and engage with a tough environment earmarked by heat, humidity and flood.
The house lives on nearly 100 years later, a proud statement in workmanship and design.
A moment in time in which a senior engineer could be sacked because he wasn’t a Catholic also produced a beautiful, unique style of housing designed to withstand the harshest elements of the tropics.
While society has moved on from religious-based sackings, the Queenslander stands proud and as popular as ever. Queenslanders live on, a beautiful statement in style and functionality in a modern world far removed from the time in which they were built.
You can’t sack a bloke for not being Catholic any more but you can still love living in his house.
