by Kerrie Subritzky
September's Beacon was a huge challenge to produce, not just because it was of epic proportions - 50% more pages than usual, and 75% more copies printed (yes, our print run is now 23,300!) ...
No. It was because for the first time ever we missed our print deadline!
We had some “technical difficulties” which caused us to miss our slot in the print queue, which caused us to miss our spot in the overnight truck, which meant I had to get up at 5am to drive to Beacon Print (no relation!) in Whakatane to pick it up and get it to our Auckland distributors.
My mum offered to come along for the ride, and turned out she was quite handy when it came to loading the vehicle - I had anticipated there would be a few guys who could do their thing and load us up in ten minutes or so while we found a cafe, but sadly, no. The lads of the outfit had the morning off so it was down to the chicks - me, Taryn from Beacon Print, and my elderly mum (don't tell her I said 'elderly') - who formed a chain gang of three to load the 920kg of Beacons into the vehicle and trailer.
We lumbered off with our load and called in to Waitakaruru on the Hauraki Plains to hand-deliver a copy to my dad (who was starring on the front cover). He was pretty chuffed.
As I slowly recovered from the massive effort of that week, privately lamenting over some typos and the layout not being quite how I had planned it, I was grateful that those on the receiving end of the Beacon (you!) were blissfully unaware of the turbulent events that preceded delivery.
There’s always a silver lining in every cloud, and it often makes a great story!
By Kerrie Subritzky
My dad Geoff Brebner turned eighty last month and so we gathered in Coromandel Town to celebrate with extended family. My family’s roots are deep in the Coromandel, Port Charles to be precise, however my dad and his siblings were brought up in Avondale. Dad, went to Avondale Primary, Intermediate and College.
Pops, as dad called his father, was a veteran of WW1 having served with the Otago Infantry Battalion. He was also a founding member of the Avondale RSA and part of a committee that in 1947 organised a fundraiser which involved purchasing a brick for five shillings, and which for 2/6d could also have the benefactor’s name inscribed on it. As Dad recalls it, Pops bought a brick for himself and the younger four of his six children, all with their names inscribed.
Dad must have been about eight at the time. He recalls walking along St Georges Road with his dad to the Glenburn brickworks and saw all these bricks on pallets ready to go through the kiln, with names stamped on them. The raw clay was white and probably a bit too perfect for a mischievous 8-year-old, so young Geoffrey picked off some of the sharp corners of the bricks.
For 70-odd years these inscribed bricks stood as part of a brick wall at the old Avondale RSA premises in Layard Street, which was demolished in 2018. The bricks that survived the sledgehammer were relocated to an alley behind the RSA’s new premises in Rosebank Road, and there they remain.
A few months back, my husband John, having heard the story of the bricks, poked around and miraculously came up with two with the name Brebner on them. And one of them was Dads.
So, what do you give an eighty-year-old on his birthday? Old Spice? Socks? A nice cardy?
You give him a brick with his name on it.