At a small gathering to mark the completion of Olive Justice Place, Christine Grayden is reminded of those who once called this place home. From left, Mayor Michael Whelan, Pamela Rothfield, Christine Grayden and John Eddy. Photos: Fybian Chakaodza By Christine Grayden
IN 2013, when Bass Coast Post editor Catherine Watson wrote about the kerfuffle that took place when Bass Coast Shire Council tried to sell off number 70 Chapel Street Cowes (What would Olive say?) Catherine interviewed me as Olive’s great niece.
At that point the land was being used as an unofficial car park for the businesses around it and an overflow car park for the Coles supermarket opposite. The local real estate agents, many of whom made use of this gravel car park, refused to handle the sale and were adamant that the car park be sealed or the land even used for a multi-storey car park.
This was the antithesis of what Olive Justice wanted for her land!
IN 2013, when Bass Coast Post editor Catherine Watson wrote about the kerfuffle that took place when Bass Coast Shire Council tried to sell off number 70 Chapel Street Cowes (What would Olive say?) Catherine interviewed me as Olive’s great niece.
At that point the land was being used as an unofficial car park for the businesses around it and an overflow car park for the Coles supermarket opposite. The local real estate agents, many of whom made use of this gravel car park, refused to handle the sale and were adamant that the car park be sealed or the land even used for a multi-storey car park.
This was the antithesis of what Olive Justice wanted for her land!
Catherine quoted me saying: “it was Olive’s very strong wish that her land should be sold to the council for use as a public square, including toilets, a decent parents' room for baby feeding and changing, somewhere for visitors to sit out of the weather, some seating and some gardens.”
Skip forward to Tuesday 16th August 2022, when a small, informal gathering took place of council officers involved in the Olive Justice Place project: Bass Coast Mayor Michael Whelan; former councillor and mayor, and secretary of the Phillip Island & District Historical Society, Pamela Rothfield – who had been adamant council hold on to Olive Justice Place during her term on council; me and my husband John Eddy.
When we arrived, the others were huddled out of the cold wind inside the modified container designed to be used as a small performance space. We all moved around to the new sign on the road side of that container.
There were no speeches, no fanfare, no formal acknowledgement of the various roles of all of us gathered there. It didn’t matter; we were all just happy to have come this far with the Olive Justice Place project and have this little celebratory gathering. We had our photos taken in various groupings either side of the new Olive Justice information sign, chatted pleasantly, hoped the rain would hold off.
Pamela then wheeled me in my wheelchair to the centre of this new pop-up multi-purpose park and described the various elements of the overall experience. Kevin Alexander, council’s co-ordinator of Open Space, joined us along with Michael and John, and told us of the challenges of converting the ugly duckling block into a much nicer swan.
When I was tilted in my wheelchair in the weak sun in the middle of our new little public R&R space, I saw the colourful mural, the landscaping features, the performance container with its neat little stage, the various types of sturdy recycled plastic tables and seating, the converted container shelter at the back of the space, the car park behind.
But I saw something else. The Olive Justice information sign and container now stood exactly where the path to the back of Olive’s house had been. The path everyone used, other than occasional visitors who knew no better.
Skip forward to Tuesday 16th August 2022, when a small, informal gathering took place of council officers involved in the Olive Justice Place project: Bass Coast Mayor Michael Whelan; former councillor and mayor, and secretary of the Phillip Island & District Historical Society, Pamela Rothfield – who had been adamant council hold on to Olive Justice Place during her term on council; me and my husband John Eddy.
When we arrived, the others were huddled out of the cold wind inside the modified container designed to be used as a small performance space. We all moved around to the new sign on the road side of that container.
There were no speeches, no fanfare, no formal acknowledgement of the various roles of all of us gathered there. It didn’t matter; we were all just happy to have come this far with the Olive Justice Place project and have this little celebratory gathering. We had our photos taken in various groupings either side of the new Olive Justice information sign, chatted pleasantly, hoped the rain would hold off.
Pamela then wheeled me in my wheelchair to the centre of this new pop-up multi-purpose park and described the various elements of the overall experience. Kevin Alexander, council’s co-ordinator of Open Space, joined us along with Michael and John, and told us of the challenges of converting the ugly duckling block into a much nicer swan.
When I was tilted in my wheelchair in the weak sun in the middle of our new little public R&R space, I saw the colourful mural, the landscaping features, the performance container with its neat little stage, the various types of sturdy recycled plastic tables and seating, the converted container shelter at the back of the space, the car park behind.
But I saw something else. The Olive Justice information sign and container now stood exactly where the path to the back of Olive’s house had been. The path everyone used, other than occasional visitors who knew no better.
Olive Justice Where Pamela parked me in my wheelchair had been the middle of the house, where the short, wide hallway led into the kitchen where Olive’s old armchair stood just inside the kitchen, her place at the table to her right, and son Roy’s near the sink on the sea-side of the table. I imagined looking through the kitchen window to see Roy’s metal stand, atop which he had placed a small improvised solar hot water tank wrapped thickly in black plastic, and his hothouses where he grew thousands of cuttings from Olive’s garden to be donated to the weekly street stalls held for decades by community groups outside the newsagents or the post office on Saturdays.
To my right, I could picture Roy’s bedroom containing his massive collection of classical music records and ballet video tapes, the crystal cabinet with its delicate porcelain Dresden china dancers and best tea set, and the usual mess of a crusty old bachelor’s bedroom.
To my left, Olive’s large, uncluttered bedroom at the front of the house, where she could hear the activity in the street and knew what was going on even if she couldn’t see a thing for the final three decades of her life. On her neat little chest of drawers alongside her bed she had her cassette recorder which she used to record so many hours of her amazing memories and from which our son Simon Eddy has edited sections for me to create YouTube videos, to be accessed via a QR code on the sign.
Back In 2013 I told Catherine: “There is still an opportunity to remove the cars from Olive Justice Place, put in seats and turn it back into pleasant place for people to gather - fulfilling at least part of Olive's vision.”
Well, after nearly 30 years we have actually managed better than that. Olive Justice Place now is barely recognisable from the 70 Chapel Street Cowes I once knew so well. But, boy, it feels good to finally have it as a public space! Open 24/7, 365 days a year folks – so drop in, enjoy, relax, read about Olive, enjoy the mural, treat your friends to a song or poem or just strum a guitar on the stage of the performance shelter, watch the passing parade, enjoy lunch at the picnic table to catch the sun from this north-facing block, let the kids run off steam on the artificial grass lawn and play chase around the concrete tree and garden pipes.
Olive Justice Place is ours, it’s free, and it’s waiting for us!
To my right, I could picture Roy’s bedroom containing his massive collection of classical music records and ballet video tapes, the crystal cabinet with its delicate porcelain Dresden china dancers and best tea set, and the usual mess of a crusty old bachelor’s bedroom.
To my left, Olive’s large, uncluttered bedroom at the front of the house, where she could hear the activity in the street and knew what was going on even if she couldn’t see a thing for the final three decades of her life. On her neat little chest of drawers alongside her bed she had her cassette recorder which she used to record so many hours of her amazing memories and from which our son Simon Eddy has edited sections for me to create YouTube videos, to be accessed via a QR code on the sign.
Back In 2013 I told Catherine: “There is still an opportunity to remove the cars from Olive Justice Place, put in seats and turn it back into pleasant place for people to gather - fulfilling at least part of Olive's vision.”
Well, after nearly 30 years we have actually managed better than that. Olive Justice Place now is barely recognisable from the 70 Chapel Street Cowes I once knew so well. But, boy, it feels good to finally have it as a public space! Open 24/7, 365 days a year folks – so drop in, enjoy, relax, read about Olive, enjoy the mural, treat your friends to a song or poem or just strum a guitar on the stage of the performance shelter, watch the passing parade, enjoy lunch at the picnic table to catch the sun from this north-facing block, let the kids run off steam on the artificial grass lawn and play chase around the concrete tree and garden pipes.
Olive Justice Place is ours, it’s free, and it’s waiting for us!
Council staff involved in the Olive Justice Place project, from left, Sam Bennett, Jodi Kennedy,
Kevin Alexander, Melody Stone and Jamey Mullen.
Kevin Alexander, Melody Stone and Jamey Mullen.