Consider the silo….
No graphs, no statistics or rainfall averages this posting. Few
words too. Just a long-time annoyance
resolved (to call it a mystery solved is to put it too highly), and a couple of
long forgotten photographs rediscovered. Lets deal with the construction of the
wheat silo at Eumungerie.
The official and near-official records (Forsyth’s excellent
summary of the records) state that the two northern-most bins were opened in
1926 and the workhouse was built in 1932.
Scant details indeed, but official histories need brevity otherwise they
would never be finished, or read for that matter.
Here is a stock standard photograph of this blog’s subject,
taken around 1980.
Take another look at the photograph. It holds all of the
clues if its construction. First, it is
of concrete construction. The yellowish
hue is testament to the western river sand forming its walls. Then there are
the ‘rings’ – irregular horizontal lines which tell the story of the primitive
hand-poured silo bins. There are 35
rings in all on the northern-most bin.
If a couple of days interregnum were required between each concrete
pour, then it is possible to estimate that each bin took at least three months
to complete, good weather prevailing.
Then there is that mystery.
What was the scar across that northern-most bin, about one-third of the
way up the wall? The most obvious answer
is that it was a roof line for a shed.
But there is no record of a shed ever being erected at Eumungerie – for wool,
wheat, livestock or any other produce.
Indeed, it is well documented that all bagged wheat was loaded at the
dump or using an augur. So, what was
that shed ever used for, and what caused it to be torn down and when?
Eighty years on, there is no chance of obtaining a first-hand
account. Those who could testify to the 1940s
(and we’ll get around to him soon enough!), have indicated that no shed stood
in that decade. Old photographs had been
scoured for clues, without success until recently.
We’ll return to the mystery soon, but salvation on several
fronts arrived recently with the uncovering of no more than two dozen new photographs
from the family collection, all thought to be dating from the 1940s. It is this next photograph that made it very
clear that the photographs were at least a decade older. This photograph shows the construction of the
work house – dating the time to either 1931 or 1932.
Of course this photograph tells much more than just a date. It shows the labour intensive methods used in
the work house’s construction – which appears to be in the early stage of pouring
of foundations. There seems to be some
steam powered contraption involved in the process, but this is not certain as
44 gallon steel drums loaded with burning coal were favoured as a means of
warmth and to keep the billy on the boil. The steel reinforcing rods can be
clearly seen, along with the hoists ready to swing the pots laden with concrete
above the corrugated-iron formwork for pouring.
Then, as if to tantalise the viewer, above the men at the
northern end of the silo bins there is the unmistakable form of a building
eave. Yes, the mysterious shed existed
in 1931!
The next photograph is thought to be only a little younger
than the last. It shows the final silo structure
- two bins and a work house – and appears to be in near-new form. One can see
the semi-temporary wheat bulkhead adjacent to the silo, used for the overflow
in years of bountiful harvest.
Disappointingly, the shed has gone. But its imprint can be seen clearly. What’s more, there is a strange lighter imprint
running from the apex of where the shed once was to the top of the silo
bin.
Finally, the view is somewhat obscured by railway sleepers stacked
in the foreground. For a while I thought
little of this. There had been a sleeper
stacking site in the vicinity of the railway yard, and Eumungerie was a
transportation spot for new sleepers.
After closer examination it is pretty clear that these sleepers are degraded
and not new. They are wooden sleepers
which may have been used around the Eumungerie area, or they may even have
provided the base (floor) to the building.
So that was as far as the story went until recently. Instead of studying the foreground of the
following photograph – the signal, the two dogs, the indistinct family relative
atop the signal gantry. And then I
looked harder. And, looking past the
obvious, there is the shed. It was a pitched roofed, corrugated iron
structure, partially open to the elements.
And it wasn’t a storage shed
at all. It was the receival shed for the two wheat bins in the period between 1926 and
1932 when the work house was opened with its internal elevator. Yes, it is even possible to see the external
elevator existing the shed roof and heading skyward.
Yes, its so confoundedly straightforward an obvious, now
that the photograph explains it all. It
was no grand edifice, just a modest though essential component of the nascent
bulk grain infrastructure at Eumungerie.
It was also an early casualty in rationalization, superseded within the
decade by a more modern facility.
There is little else to say.
Thankfully someone within my lineage decided to purchase a camera around
1931 – which was no mean deal in that depression-era year in a family of modest
circumstances. Thanks also go to those
who brought forward these photographs in recent times. Finally, there is also relief that an
annoyance has been resolved, just by paying a little more attention. We can now
move to other things!
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