Never afraid of hard work, Laurie Chizzoniti was renownedfor his kindness, honesty and beautiful smile.
By Bruce Phillips
THE room fell silent. The angry man continued his rant directed at Wally Taberner who stood expressionless behind the bar with his trademark tea towel resting on his shoulder. It was a Friday night in the early `70s in the crowded lounge of the Wonthaggi Hotel. The band had just tuned up and was ready to go. No one had any idea what had sparked the loud and insulting tirade, especially as publican Wally was one of the most highly respected people in the district. That said, no one was intervening on his behalf and the stout, fiery fellow continued.
Through the darkened entrance doorway appeared a short but powerfully built figure. Stepping forward with his big beautiful smile walked Laurie Chizzoniti, local fruit shop owner. Realising the situation, he tried calming the man – to no avail. All eyes were fixed on what would happen next. The time for talk was over as Laurie wrapped his two vice-like arms around the man, lifted him, and gently danced him through the door into McBride Avenue. Laurie returned. The door closed. There were no punches, no blood, and no more histrionics.
THE room fell silent. The angry man continued his rant directed at Wally Taberner who stood expressionless behind the bar with his trademark tea towel resting on his shoulder. It was a Friday night in the early `70s in the crowded lounge of the Wonthaggi Hotel. The band had just tuned up and was ready to go. No one had any idea what had sparked the loud and insulting tirade, especially as publican Wally was one of the most highly respected people in the district. That said, no one was intervening on his behalf and the stout, fiery fellow continued.
Through the darkened entrance doorway appeared a short but powerfully built figure. Stepping forward with his big beautiful smile walked Laurie Chizzoniti, local fruit shop owner. Realising the situation, he tried calming the man – to no avail. All eyes were fixed on what would happen next. The time for talk was over as Laurie wrapped his two vice-like arms around the man, lifted him, and gently danced him through the door into McBride Avenue. Laurie returned. The door closed. There were no punches, no blood, and no more histrionics.
Born “Lorenzo” in Anoia, Reggio in Calabria in 1923, Laurie’s life was characterised by his courage, kindness, honesty, sunny nature and work ethic. Indeed, the word “workaholic” does not do him justice. At the age of 13 he and brother Frank (15) sailed alone on a six-week seasick voyage to Australia, reconnecting with their father Dominic and brother Mick who were living at Korumburra.
Laurie’s new world was all hard labour – milking cows, picking peas and potatoes for farmers six days a week. Dominic bought land at Leongatha South and the boys helped clear it for farming. They spent part of the war cutting timber at a camp at Noojee, permitted to leave only if they worked the farm for the war effort. Each day Laurie took the market-bound peas on his bike to 15km distant Korumburra South.
By the late forties Dominic’s wife Marina and remaining children – Jimmy and Mary – had arrived from Italy and the family was reunited. Mary married Tony Gheller and lived on the Wonthaggi-Loch Road. Laurie moved in with them and for two years worked night shift at the mine, riding his bike 15kms each day to plough the paddocks leased from Charlie Daly at Ryanston. Laurie grew peas and some spuds. Charlie regarded Laurie as his “foster son” and they enjoyed a close relationship until Charlie’s death in 1976.
In 1956 Laurie married Anna – and provided a bus for local family and friends who attended the nuptials in Collingwood.
By the late forties Dominic’s wife Marina and remaining children – Jimmy and Mary – had arrived from Italy and the family was reunited. Mary married Tony Gheller and lived on the Wonthaggi-Loch Road. Laurie moved in with them and for two years worked night shift at the mine, riding his bike 15kms each day to plough the paddocks leased from Charlie Daly at Ryanston. Laurie grew peas and some spuds. Charlie regarded Laurie as his “foster son” and they enjoyed a close relationship until Charlie’s death in 1976.
In 1956 Laurie married Anna – and provided a bus for local family and friends who attended the nuptials in Collingwood.
The Chizzoniti family: Rear: Laurie and Anna with Susie. Front: Vince, Marina and Dominic.
Two years later he acquired what was to become a Wonthaggi landmark: then known as Stavros’ fish and chip shop at 46 McBride Avenue. For the next 10 years Laurie dressed in a white apron. The business boomed, not just for the Chizzonitis, but the town’s economy: he employed countless assistants, schoolboys cut chips early in the mornings, and he provided lunches for his farm workers. Laurie paid two cents per pound for newspapers used to wrap the chips. Only the broadsheet Herald and Age would do.
On Friday his green EK van would arrive at St Joseph’s School with fish, chips and potato cakes. Twenty cents bought a piece of fish, a potato cake and a bag of chips. Hungry kids from the State and Tech schools also kept Laurie’s fryer constantly on the boil. The shop opened late on Fridays and Saturdays and Laurie did not finish work till around 2am on Sundays having catered for large numbers of dance patrons. A quirk was that the shop was festooned with Christmas decorations all year round – perhaps consistent with Laurie’s reputation as a giver.
Then one day in 1968 the favourite foodstuff of many a schoolboy was no longer to be had at 46 McBride. Sadly, and tragically for them, Laurie had developed an allergy to the mercury in the fish. All of a sudden the shop had gone healthy. It was now selling fruit and he was wearing a leather apron instead of a white cotton one.
On Friday his green EK van would arrive at St Joseph’s School with fish, chips and potato cakes. Twenty cents bought a piece of fish, a potato cake and a bag of chips. Hungry kids from the State and Tech schools also kept Laurie’s fryer constantly on the boil. The shop opened late on Fridays and Saturdays and Laurie did not finish work till around 2am on Sundays having catered for large numbers of dance patrons. A quirk was that the shop was festooned with Christmas decorations all year round – perhaps consistent with Laurie’s reputation as a giver.
Then one day in 1968 the favourite foodstuff of many a schoolboy was no longer to be had at 46 McBride. Sadly, and tragically for them, Laurie had developed an allergy to the mercury in the fish. All of a sudden the shop had gone healthy. It was now selling fruit and he was wearing a leather apron instead of a white cotton one.
46 McBride Avenue in its heyday
The only traditions to remain were the use of newspaper and Laurie’s generosity. Special and unheralded acts of kindness were reserved for those down on their luck – the unemployed, the sick and those who had lost partners and children. Children were often the recipients of a free banana but Laurie reckoned it was good for business and motivated parents to buy his fruit when next walking past. He provided oranges gratis to many of the clubs in the local football league – again calculating it would attract patronage. To get the fruit he made regular night trips to Melbourne, sleeping in his van, before returning next day.
Not surprisingly Laurie – like The Castle’s Farouk - liked dealing in cash and had an aversion to cheques. He wanted to be paid in cash and always paid others that way. Tradesmen never left without their money as Laurie reasoned it would be an inducement for them to return promptly when needed again.
In 1992 Laurie sold the business, though the iconic 46 McBride Avenue remains in the Chizzoniti family.
Not surprisingly Laurie – like The Castle’s Farouk - liked dealing in cash and had an aversion to cheques. He wanted to be paid in cash and always paid others that way. Tradesmen never left without their money as Laurie reasoned it would be an inducement for them to return promptly when needed again.
In 1992 Laurie sold the business, though the iconic 46 McBride Avenue remains in the Chizzoniti family.
46 McBride Avenue today
Laurie thought he was lucky that he had lived in the best country in the world. He believed strongly in integration – even refusing to attend the Italian club – preferring the Senior Citizens.
Laurie in Later Life His final years were marked by his bravery and good humour. His upper body was willing but one knee was particularly painful. Scans and x-rays were ordered and Laurie visited the doctor to hear the results. He was told that at 87 years old the knee has suffered irreparable damage. Keeping a straight face Laurie accused the doctor of not doing his job as the other knee was exactly the same age – and it was perfectly all right.
In his closing months at Armitage House Laurie was in great pain and compelled by his family to see a geriatrician. He asked why he needed such a consultation and was told it would help him. Laurie protested, accusing the medico of wasting his time and Laurie’s money, that he had had a good life and that the man should be tending to those years younger who really needed help.
“If you really want to help me, give me a couple of pills and I’ll go to sleep,” said Laurie.
“I can’t do that Mr Chizzoniti – they’ll put me in jail,” came the response.
But Laurie was having the final word: “Don’t worry about that Doc – I’m not going to tell nobody.”
As has been said many times, not all of our heroes wear capes. In this case it was just an apron.
The author is indebted to Dom and Lee Chizzoniti, Colin Donohue and Kath Daly.
In his closing months at Armitage House Laurie was in great pain and compelled by his family to see a geriatrician. He asked why he needed such a consultation and was told it would help him. Laurie protested, accusing the medico of wasting his time and Laurie’s money, that he had had a good life and that the man should be tending to those years younger who really needed help.
“If you really want to help me, give me a couple of pills and I’ll go to sleep,” said Laurie.
“I can’t do that Mr Chizzoniti – they’ll put me in jail,” came the response.
But Laurie was having the final word: “Don’t worry about that Doc – I’m not going to tell nobody.”
As has been said many times, not all of our heroes wear capes. In this case it was just an apron.
The author is indebted to Dom and Lee Chizzoniti, Colin Donohue and Kath Daly.