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Australian Ancestors
Can anyone give me a clue how to start tracing my Australian ancestors, without joining another site? (I already belong to Genes Reunited)
I know that one of my mother's uncles, his wife and two children
emigrated on 2/7/1921 on the Themistocles, destination Sydney.
tikkit
I know that one of my mother's uncles, his wife and two children
emigrated on 2/7/1921 on the Themistocles, destination Sydney.
tikkit
Answers
1 to 18 of 18
i have copied this extract from a record put online by Edith Dorothy's family: Mum died at 2.05 am on Thursday 30th January 1992 in Westmead Hospital. Her frail body finally succumbed to the ravages of asthma; a disease that had for most of her life seen her seek relief in various brews of drugs, suppositorie
18:56 Tue 27th Aug 2013
you can look at the australian electoral roll 1903 - 1980 on ancestry.co.uk, or if you want i'll have a look for you, ([email protected])
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Thanks DJHawkes, if you could find out anything I'd be most grateful !
My great Uncle's name was Frank Lomas, born 1890, his wife was Florence Lomas,born 1895, and the two children at the time were Eric Lomas , born about 1920, and Edith D Lomas, born about 1913.
I'm not entirely sure that Edith D was a daughter, as there is such a large gap betwen the two children ! She may have been a sister or a neice.
I do have a couple of photos entitled "our cousins from Australia" in my mum's old album, dated 1926, showing three boys named Eric, Valentine and Roy.
My great Uncle's name was Frank Lomas, born 1890, his wife was Florence Lomas,born 1895, and the two children at the time were Eric Lomas , born about 1920, and Edith D Lomas, born about 1913.
I'm not entirely sure that Edith D was a daughter, as there is such a large gap betwen the two children ! She may have been a sister or a neice.
I do have a couple of photos entitled "our cousins from Australia" in my mum's old album, dated 1926, showing three boys named Eric, Valentine and Roy.
A Frank and Florence Emily Lomas were recorded on the 1930 electoral roll for Waratah, Newcastle, New South Wales. Then in 1936 they are in Newcastle, Newcastle, NSW then by 1946 Eric is old enough to appear and they have moved to Balmain, West Sydney, NSW.
In 1949, Frank and Florence were in Kensington, Watson, NSW, in 1956 Florence Was at 27 Doncaster Avenue Kensington, WATSON, nsw Frank was with her, his occupation was Musician.
By 1958 Florence was widowed and still living in Doncaster Avenue. the district changed to Kingsford Smith Kensington, NSW. By 1963 she is still there on her own, and in 1968, in 1980 she's still there on her own but in a flat in Malabar, she must have been into her 90s then.
Eric possibly married Stella ? and they lived in Barton, Mortdale, NSW and had children Brent and Karen. In 1980 Brent was living at apartment 8, 13 Cambride Steet, St George Hurstville, NSW.
Pretty sure that's your family as they are all at the same address at one point.
In 1949, Frank and Florence were in Kensington, Watson, NSW, in 1956 Florence Was at 27 Doncaster Avenue Kensington, WATSON, nsw Frank was with her, his occupation was Musician.
By 1958 Florence was widowed and still living in Doncaster Avenue. the district changed to Kingsford Smith Kensington, NSW. By 1963 she is still there on her own, and in 1968, in 1980 she's still there on her own but in a flat in Malabar, she must have been into her 90s then.
Eric possibly married Stella ? and they lived in Barton, Mortdale, NSW and had children Brent and Karen. In 1980 Brent was living at apartment 8, 13 Cambride Steet, St George Hurstville, NSW.
Pretty sure that's your family as they are all at the same address at one point.
Edith Dorothy Lomas married Alexander Elias Leman 29 Nov 1935, New Lambton, NSW she died 30 Jan 1992
Florence her mum died in 1980, Frank died in 1954, and i was right, his wife was stella sullivan, she died last year, their son michael died in 1980.
Roy died in 1990 in sydney aged 94
here is a pic of edith dorothy and also some of Florence and frank
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Florence her mum died in 1980, Frank died in 1954, and i was right, his wife was stella sullivan, she died last year, their son michael died in 1980.
Roy died in 1990 in sydney aged 94
here is a pic of edith dorothy and also some of Florence and frank
http://
http://
i have copied this extract from a record put online by Edith Dorothy's family:
Mum died at 2.05 am on Thursday 30th January 1992 in Westmead Hospital. Her frail body finally succumbed to the ravages of asthma; a disease that had for most of her life seen her seek relief in various brews of drugs, suppositories, inhalents, needles, miracle creams, psysiotherapists and assorted witchdoctors. And so, at the age of 79, Edith Dorothy Leman (nee Lomas), went to join Alexander Elias Leman in the great somewhere..a place where souls that are inextricably entwined in life, finally get together for the duration. Karl and I drove to unit 4, Woodbury Village at Winston Hills to initiate the removal of Mum's furniture and personal belongings from the unit which, as we had been informed, had to be emptied in the week following the demise of a resident. The tiny flat was in its usual spotless and ordered condition. I could see Mum shuffling around as she waited for her transport to the hospital, ensuring that all four rooms were immaculately clean and tidy that everything was in its rightful place. Every ornament and nicknack would stand resolutely in its allocated position awaiting for the return of its mistress who would administer to its daily needs. I felt as though it had become my responsibility to break the dreadful news that the little lady would never return and that their future was looking decidedly shaky. The bed was made as only Mum could make a bed. Tight as a drum with each fold falling precisely to the floor. The bathroom gleamed and not a stray crumb blemished the tiny kitchen. Her clothing hung in regimented rows in the wardrobe with her shoes standing in an orderly row beneath. A smell of camphor pervaded every nook and cranny. But no matter where I looked, I could not find the little lady who, no matter how sick she was, always presented herself to the world in the same way she presented her home..immaculately. She was no longer there. A dreadful sense of violation overcame me as we sorted through, laid claim to and discussed the logistics of dispensing the many items that we knew had meant so much to our mother. Most had no monetary value and some were beyond our understanding but over a couple of days, Karl, Fay, Lea and myself were forced to adjudicate on each item that we had pillaged from draws, prised from walls and extracted from cupboards. Eventually, we succeeded in removing all evidence of Mum's ten year tenure at the village. A final look around before pulling the door shut, revealed two pathetic plastic bags containing things that we left for charity, laying on the floor. Sad and mundane remnants of our mother's journey. However, this unpleasant task did produce some memorable discoveries which made us wonder how much we really knew about Edith Dorothy Leman. Hidden away, interspersed amongst invoices, recipts and cards of every description, were snippets of information which sent cold shivers down my spine. There were aspects of her life that, although not all that earth shattering in themselves, she had never spoken of. These had been hidden behind a demure veil that had very seldom been lowered. Literary awards from the Newcastle Herald revealed that as a youngster, Mum had been a creative writer who in the act of keeping these cards, had felt proud of her efforts and wished to be reminded of them. Never had they been shown or talked about to Karl and myself. Often I had expressed my annoyance with Mum's letter writing which was usually limited to three or four words scribbled on a card or on the inside flap of an envelope. We found a tangerine Flamenco dress carefully stored away, to which she had briefly alluded on a couple of occassions. She had made this for herself when a teenager and had danced in some musical production. Her marriage certificate refers to her as a dressmaker but we never saw her do so. Mum assembled two photo albums, one for each of her sons. The phot
Mum died at 2.05 am on Thursday 30th January 1992 in Westmead Hospital. Her frail body finally succumbed to the ravages of asthma; a disease that had for most of her life seen her seek relief in various brews of drugs, suppositories, inhalents, needles, miracle creams, psysiotherapists and assorted witchdoctors. And so, at the age of 79, Edith Dorothy Leman (nee Lomas), went to join Alexander Elias Leman in the great somewhere..a place where souls that are inextricably entwined in life, finally get together for the duration. Karl and I drove to unit 4, Woodbury Village at Winston Hills to initiate the removal of Mum's furniture and personal belongings from the unit which, as we had been informed, had to be emptied in the week following the demise of a resident. The tiny flat was in its usual spotless and ordered condition. I could see Mum shuffling around as she waited for her transport to the hospital, ensuring that all four rooms were immaculately clean and tidy that everything was in its rightful place. Every ornament and nicknack would stand resolutely in its allocated position awaiting for the return of its mistress who would administer to its daily needs. I felt as though it had become my responsibility to break the dreadful news that the little lady would never return and that their future was looking decidedly shaky. The bed was made as only Mum could make a bed. Tight as a drum with each fold falling precisely to the floor. The bathroom gleamed and not a stray crumb blemished the tiny kitchen. Her clothing hung in regimented rows in the wardrobe with her shoes standing in an orderly row beneath. A smell of camphor pervaded every nook and cranny. But no matter where I looked, I could not find the little lady who, no matter how sick she was, always presented herself to the world in the same way she presented her home..immaculately. She was no longer there. A dreadful sense of violation overcame me as we sorted through, laid claim to and discussed the logistics of dispensing the many items that we knew had meant so much to our mother. Most had no monetary value and some were beyond our understanding but over a couple of days, Karl, Fay, Lea and myself were forced to adjudicate on each item that we had pillaged from draws, prised from walls and extracted from cupboards. Eventually, we succeeded in removing all evidence of Mum's ten year tenure at the village. A final look around before pulling the door shut, revealed two pathetic plastic bags containing things that we left for charity, laying on the floor. Sad and mundane remnants of our mother's journey. However, this unpleasant task did produce some memorable discoveries which made us wonder how much we really knew about Edith Dorothy Leman. Hidden away, interspersed amongst invoices, recipts and cards of every description, were snippets of information which sent cold shivers down my spine. There were aspects of her life that, although not all that earth shattering in themselves, she had never spoken of. These had been hidden behind a demure veil that had very seldom been lowered. Literary awards from the Newcastle Herald revealed that as a youngster, Mum had been a creative writer who in the act of keeping these cards, had felt proud of her efforts and wished to be reminded of them. Never had they been shown or talked about to Karl and myself. Often I had expressed my annoyance with Mum's letter writing which was usually limited to three or four words scribbled on a card or on the inside flap of an envelope. We found a tangerine Flamenco dress carefully stored away, to which she had briefly alluded on a couple of occassions. She had made this for herself when a teenager and had danced in some musical production. Her marriage certificate refers to her as a dressmaker but we never saw her do so. Mum assembled two photo albums, one for each of her sons. The phot
The photographs of her as a young woman reveal a girl of extreme beauty and style dressed in suits and semi-formal attire that project an air of poise and confidence. One particular shot is of a carefree lass at the beach dressed in a light and somewhat revealing frock, posing seductively alongside a dashing Errol Flynn type fellow who is obviously very interested in what he sees. While talking at her funeral to her brothers Val, Roy and Eric, Karl and I produced the photo albums for their perusal. They created a lot of interest, especially for Mum's neices. Then at one point, one of Mum's brothers asked casually whether we were aware that Mum had been a feature character in a silent movie that was made in Newcastle. He then , just as nonchalantly mentioned that he still had some of the film stashed away somewhere at home. Karl and I were dumbfounded! Firstly, Mum had never mentioned the film and secondly, here was a fellow with such a poor sense of family history that he had probably allowed a very unusual artifact to deteriorate into an irretrievable condition. In Mum's unit we found the original bill for the first house that she and Lex built at Georgetown in Newcastle. It amounted to just under nine hundred pounds ($1800) and represented a major step in creating a better life and security for a couple still battling with the indelible effects of the Great Depression. The fleeting sketches of Mum's life that were revealed by these items diverged greatly from the simple images we held over the years in our own minds. The ultra-conservative and demure lady had a secret past that she had guarded closely; a past that had changed perhaps abruptly when she married and devoted herself to the raising of her famiy. But why did Mum did Mum repress these creative talents for the rest of her life? Why would the woman not continue on with the development of such talents or at least talk about them and encourage her children to follow. Both Karl and I do possess modest creative skills and I guess that despite Mum's reticence, Nature has ensured that her talents have been preserved and will genetically pass down through the coming generations. I can only conject that the debilitating effects of the asthma, the economic and physical battle to provide for her kids along with maybe Dad's stern demeanour, all combined to build barriers in Mum's mind that blotted out the rennants of that beautiful, talented and carefree girl that remains behind, smiling in a few pages of an old photo album. Or maybe, as I suspect, there is a deeper and more sinister explanation for her strange behaviour, things that took place in her youth that she wanted to obliterate. But that would be another story.
Stella Lomas nee Sullivan, wife of Eric, along with her mother-in-law Florence Lomas
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Thank you SO much, DJHawkes.
I'm very sorry that I haven't answered earlier, there have been three deaths and funerals in the family since I submitted my question, and this is honestlly the first time I have returned to the site. I was absolutely astonished at all the hard work that you've done for me. I haven't taken it all in yet, I'm going to reread it all now, but I can alredy see that the name Valentine is a familiar one, I've heard my mum talking about it as my father was nearly called that too and it was a bit of a coincidence.
Thanks millions, once again. I will come back and talk to you again shortly !!!!
tikkit
I'm very sorry that I haven't answered earlier, there have been three deaths and funerals in the family since I submitted my question, and this is honestlly the first time I have returned to the site. I was absolutely astonished at all the hard work that you've done for me. I haven't taken it all in yet, I'm going to reread it all now, but I can alredy see that the name Valentine is a familiar one, I've heard my mum talking about it as my father was nearly called that too and it was a bit of a coincidence.
Thanks millions, once again. I will come back and talk to you again shortly !!!!
tikkit
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