Kiwi Konexions: The Old Hall
Lots of memories were revived when an old church hall was demolished in Milton, New Zealand, as Glen Taylor reveals.
The old hall is no more. It has “come a tumbling down'', it was “passed its use by date'', it has “bitten the dust''. For over a hundred years it had stood there and it took less than a day for the bulldozers to raze it to the ground. In its place there is a large area of flattened rubble awaiting new motels. Milton is boom town again, as it was in the days of the gold rush, when the hall was built. A new prison is due to open just down the road, the trees are ready for felling in the huge forests, which run from Dunedin to Balclutha on the hills separating us from the sea, so three new timber mills and processing plants are coming on stream. Housing and accommodation are at a premium. The hall has gone.
Half the town is up in arms. The hall had stood there since 1897, a long time in New Zealand history. Why did we knock it down, they ask? Why did we sell it? The answer is simple,“bottoms on seats. The days of full churches are gone. The regular few could no longer cope with maintaining such a large building which was hardly ever used, didn’t come up to health and safety standards and was a nightmare for our poor treasurer. We needed a new and practical building. We didn’t need a great big hall with a stage which hadn’t seen a concert in donkey’s years.
The older folk stood looking at it longingly, remembering the good old days, as they saw it being prepared for demolition.
Before hand over day, clear out time came and we all set to work. The kitchen cupboards brought to light old china, now collector’s items, and with them such words as, “that was Mrs So and so’s, do you remember when….?” Under the stage were the little chairs which were set out for Sunday school each week. Can you recall sitting in classes”at Sunday school and moving up a class each year, and Anniversary Day, when the Sunday school, girls dressed in white, boys in their best clothes, would parade into church and sit in the choir stalls to sing the hymns they had learnt, while proud parents looked on? Old pews were found in back rooms and, as the the antique dealers moved in, our funds grew.
Slowly we worked our way through. This for the tip, this for the garage sale, this for the antique dealers, this to be stored and saved for the new building. But where? Try and get into the vestry now. It is a juggling act. The vicarage is full of cardboard boxes and garages are storing things all over Milton. Hopefully it won’t be for long. The money is in the bank and we are in the hands of the builders.
Our nice new building will be attached to the church. No more dashing through the rain to the hall. We plan a brand new kitchen with all mod cons, ( heaven! a dishwasher), new washrooms and a meeting room big enough for today’s needs and hopefully a new vestry for our vicar, and all the repairs done to the church. There is an excitement in the air but there is something else, a feeling of sadness.
As I watched the old folk, leaning on their sticks looking at the hall falling down, and as I listened to the stories they told, as we worked together sorting out the contents, I thought back to my own Sunday School days and the hall at my old church on the other side of the globe. It was no different from the one here, the Saturday night dances and badminton, concerts and whist drives, which we all took part in enthusiastically. One lady told me of hiding under the stage when she didn’t want to be in the concerts. Guides, women’s meetings, sales of work, bishop’s visits and church dinners, how the folk chatted about them. “We had or wedding reception there,'' etc. etc.
The hall has its formal history, when and how it was built, but it also has its informal history, its real history, and we have decided that this should not be lost. The people are still around us with the tales their grandparents told them. The hall dates back to the gold rush and the church was dedicated by the first Anglican bishop in New Zealand, Bishop Selwyn. The huge English trees were planted then too. Yes there are lots of stories to be told. It wasn’t the hall’s fault it had grown old and nobody wanted it.
The hall's story is going to be told. We are writing a book and in it will be, not only be the facts and figures, but the memories and stories of what went on there. Some will bring laughter, some will bring tears, perhaps I will share a few with you as I gather them together.
I think the old hall would have been pleased to know that it will be remembered. But do you know, a funny thing has happened since it was knocked down. The numbers coming to church have gone up. Perhaps they will become regulars, perhaps they are just curious to know what is going on.
