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If there is one building in Sydney that will always hold a sentimental place in my heart, it is the NSW State Library.
My association with the library goes back to the early 80s when it provided a welcome oasis in an unforgiving desert of personal turmoil, but the love affair began in earnest in 1994.
I had just taken voluntary redundancy - shortly after undergoing four months chemotherapy. I was in a government job and because of constant restructuring, I had to apply for the position I already held - eight bloody times in just over a year! On the last occasion, there were only two candidates for the position - myself and my assistant. He lodged a complaint with HR that because I knew more about computerised records systems than he did, I had an unfair advantage. Guess what - I was then asked to train him so he could apply on equal terms.I thought, sod this for a game of tin soldiers and took voluntary redundancy.
I started M.A.H. Research Service, which wasn't a great success because I only took on jobs I enjoyed doing. To make maters worse I began a habit that still exists today - of not getting round to charging people. Put the two together and it's not a great recipe for success!
I love old newspapers and it was a joy to scour the old Australian, U.S. and British newspapers on microfilm. I would sit for hours in a semi-darkened booth reading news that had long been forgotten - or in the case of American newspapers, reading news that I first saw in western movies starring John Wayne or Randolph Scott.
I became interested in the old Sydney Stadium, which for decades was the sporting and entertainment hub of Sydney. It was the place where Jack Johnson and Tommy Burns fought for the world heavyweight title on Boxing Day 1908.
The characters involved seemed to have stepped straight out of a Damon Runyan novel, and I became so obsessed with the early days of boxing at the stadium that I decided to write a book.
Day after day I would sit in the Mitchell wing pouring over old newspapers, old personal diaries and personal papers. A chap called Bert Cox, kept a detailed handwritten account of almost every fight from 1908 to the 1970s, and I soon felt as though I knew not only Bert Cox,. but also the fighters and others involved in the boxing scene at that time.
In those days, Sydney was a draw card for well known American fighters. Jimmy Clabby, known as the Prince Lochinvar of boxing, was a frequent visitor between 1908 and the 1920s. Indiana State Library, was kind enough to send me photocopies of local newspapers from the Hammond, Indiana area where the Clabby family was well known.
Incidentally, a few years ago I posted an article on Jimmy Clabby to a boxing newsgroup and received an email from Frank Stallone who is the brother of Sly, and a great collector of boxing memorabilia.
The section I used is reserved for old manuscripts. At that time you could only write notes in lead pencil, or the early laptops. I ended up with over a thousand pages of pencilled notes and photocopies of old boxing identities.
My book came to nothing - I approached a media personality with the story and lo and behold, a video on the topic was suddenly released. The niche market I aimed for was not "niche" any more.
However, the bastard wasn't going to spoil my enjoyment, and even now when I have time, I add a bit more to my research.
On a slightly different note, after you have been reading old newspapers for a long period of time, you begin to realise that in many ways not much changes. Stories that make news now, did back then. I began to realise that people have selective and not-too-accurate memories of the "good old days".
Mind you, some of the headlines I wouldn't care to see now. It was a bit of a shock to read a Sydney newspaper with the headline screaming "White girl found with n*****s in den of iniquity" In fact, it was a jazz club, but the headline looked good.
Yep, some things never change as far as Sydney media is concerned.
Till the day after tomorrow...
...wherever you may be - be safe!