Brown and Gold

Concordia’s first annual magazine appeared in 1924. The Brown and Gold was the work of the students, with practically everyone helping in one way or another. The 64 pages included photos of classes and teams, sports reports, poems, cartoons and photo collages. The jokes and riddles which make up the last nine pages are rather dated, and unlikely to appeal to today’s reader.

Interestingly enough, the cover illustration which features wattle entwining the college badge and logo, was drawn in less than an hour in Indian ink. This same cover was used each year until 1937.




The aims of the magazine were clearly stated in this first issue.
To present to you some inside glimpses of life at Concordia
To have you understand Concordia better, and to make you love her more
To provide a little healthful entertainment
To make members of Synod certain that we appreciate all that is done on our behalf
To give past students an opportunity to keep in touch with their Alma Mater.

The last Brown and Gold was the 2000 edition. The following year the annual school magazine was renamed Concordia College Review.

Autograph Albums

During the first half of the 20th century, many Concordia students regarded their autograph albums as prized possessions.
They asked friends, family and teachers to contribute pieces of verse, personal messages and drawings. In many cases a great deal of time and talent was poured into a single page entry. Contributions varied from the serious to the flippant, from the sentimental to the witty, and the albums were paged through and admired by many others. Until about 30 years ago many young people, particularly girls, owned an autograph album.
Our Heritage Centre has several complete examples.

Food Matters

In January 1926, the secretary of the College Board, the Rev J. G. Georg, appealed to members of the Lutheran Church to continue supplying gifts in kind to Concordia’s kitchen. The following requirements were listed as necessary to cater for the 62 boarders, all boys and young men.

90 tins (4 gallons) of jam, 14 tins of honey, 4 ¼ tons of potatoes, 44 pounds of butter per week, 200 pounds of meat per week, 200 pounds of flour, one 70-pound bag of sugar per week, 400 tins of preserved fruit (for serving once a week) and 40 tons of firewood.

This list did not include the required amount of fresh bread, vegetables and other necessary items. There was also a gentle reminder that gifts of tins of jam supplied in drums should not include any leftover kerosene!

The 1928 Brown and Gold magazine included a heartfelt tribute to the kitchen staff.
‘One of the most important organizations to be found at Concordia is the kitchen staff. This body daily carries out the big task of providing for the inner needs of vigorous healthy appetites.’ A decade or so later, during World War II, food coupons were introduced. The result was that not everyone was happy with the quality and quantity of the meals served.
In 1943 a student reported that:
‘Sometimes we seem to get much delight from comparing a piece of tough meat (the sheep’s fault!) to camel-hide or horse-saddle, but generally this topic is concluded by expressions of satisfaction that we are not in Britain where food coupons are exhausted all too soon. We know the kitchen staff will do their best to keep us marching, for we believe: We can live without friends, we can live without books,
But civilized man cannot live without cooks!’

The photo shows the 1924 domestic staff.

A Remarkable Woman

When Mrs Agnes Dorsch retired from Concordia in 1943 at the age of 70, her fine personal qualities and unstinting service were highlighted in an article in the Brown and Gold the following year.

‘She was ever a model example of piety, humility, generosity and devotion to duty. Her faithful and energetic teaching, her sympathetic interest in the welfare of her pupils, her quiet persistence and patience, her friendly encouragements, her unassuming and kind disposition, have won for her the honour, respect and sincere friendship of all who have studied under her.’

Agnes Dorsch was the second woman to graduate in arts from the University of Adelaide in 1891. With a first class honours degree in both classics and mathematics, her academic background was outstanding.  During 1923 to 1925, and then from 1927 to 1943, she taught both secondary and seminary students in subjects ranging from English, German, Latin, Greek and French to Physiology and Mathematics.

It seems that her personal life placed unusual pressures on Mrs Dorsch. Her family was far from pleased when she married Caspar Dorsch in 1893. He was a widower with three children, 13 years older than Agnes, and the pastor of Bethlehem Lutheran Church, Flinders St.  His narrow mindset  and his belief that dancing, picture theatres and card games were signs of the devil, cast a heavy shadow over the household.

During 1898 Pastor Dorsch suffered a breakdown and was granted leave to visit his relatives in America. He left Agnes behind with three step children and three of her own to care for, so she returned to teaching to support the family. This was something her husband did not particularly like, but clearly had to accept. When he returned two years later, Pastor Dorsch remained a semi-invalid and was forced to retire from his parish.  Five more children were born and Mrs Dorsch worked to support them as well. She often gave private tuition until 9 or 10 in the evening.

Although at the end of 1941, she had reached the age of ‘honorable retirement’ she willingly agreed to the Board’s urgent request to continue her work.  After her retirement, she continued coaching at home, even after she suffered a stroke at the age of 74. She died in 1958 at the age of 87.

War Casualty

The names of thirteen Concordia old collegians who served in the Vietnam War appear on the honour board in the Suaviter, previously the chapel. Errol Noack, a Concordia student in 1960 was the only casualty among them. Because he was also the first Australian soldier killed in the Vietnam War, he achieved instant fame on the front page of all Australian newspapers on 25^th May, 1966. Yet the true circumstances surrounding his death remain somewhat unclear.

Noack was among the first intake of national servicemen enlisted by ballot on June 30^th, 1965.After celebrating his 21st birthday with his family in Adelaide on May 8^th, 1966, he left for South Vietnam. A member of No.5 Platoon, 'B' Company, Noack flew in by helicopter on the morning of May 24^th. The weather was hot and the soldiers struggled to push through the dense scrub in single file. Late that afternoon, 'B' Company set up camp for the night. With 'A' Company operating close by, a forward listening post was set up to warn if anyone approached. Members of No.5 Platoon, including Noack, were chosen for this duty.
As they moved through the scrub, they came under sudden fire. Everyone immediately, went to ground and returned fire. During a pause, Noack moved to another position and was hit in the side by a bullet from a sub-machine gun. He died in a helicopter on the way to hospital at Vung Tau.
The first reports attributed his death to friendly fire, as it was quite apparent that 'A' Company and 'B' Company were shooting at each other.
Yet on May 25^th official reports stated that Noack had been killed by enemy gunfire. Nevertheless, the men of 'A' and 'B' companies remained firmly convinced that he had perished as a result of a tragic error.
Noack became a symbol of the small but growing anti-Vietnam War movement in Australia. On June 1^st a crowd of around 2000 gathered for his military funeral at Bethlehem Lutheran Church in Flinders St., Adelaide. He was buried in the Garden of Remembrance, Centennial Park Cemetery.

 

Concordia Rocks

At 3.40 am on March 1^st 1954 Adelaide experienced a 5.5 magnitude earthquake.

The strong shaking woke most residents, cracked walls and loosened plaster from many buildings.

In the Brown and Gold of that year a boy boarder described what he heard and felt.

‘When the earthquake was on I awoke and heard a roaring noise like the wind. I pulled the blankets over my head because the plaster was falling on me. When it was over I asked the boys what had happened. They said it was an earthquake.’

Along with many houses in Adelaide, Concordia buildings did not go unscathed.

During the May holidays Mr Harms repaired four of the bedrooms which had been damaged. This cost was estimated at 1000 pounds, with much more repair work to be done.
The total damage bill for Adelaide was $70 million.

 

Hail, Concordia!

On August 23^rd 1991, an exceptionally heavy hailstorm transformed the College campus into a ‘winter wonderland’!

Earlier in that same year, on 22^nd January, hail did not lead to the same delight and fun. One of the most damaging storms to strike Adelaide crossed the city about 7pm. Hailstones reached 10cm in diameter, and the damage bill was estimated at $25 million. Nearly half the damage claims were for motor vehicles, but the hail also broke roof tiles and windows, causing water damage in many houses.

Prefects

‘A state of chaos naturally exists where law and order do not prevail. To prevent disorder from gaining the upper hand, a number of students are appointed by the Director as prefects.’ Brown and Gold, 1931.

Class prefects at this time were responsible for behaviour during the absence of the teacher and for keeping the keep roll book. Each study and bedroom had a prefect to ensure that everything remained clean and neat, and prefects had the automatic right to the best bed in the room, usually by a window. The head prefect who rang the bells and locked up was often regarded by the younger boys as a tyrant.

By 1950, besides being responsible for the maintenance of good order and proper behaviour, prefects were expected to take an interest in the personal welfare of their fellow students and foster the College spirit. They were to set a good example and had the power to administer punishment for minor offences. In 1962 prefect Brian Schwarz wrote that ‘naturally it is not all smooth running. Occasionally some-one boldly challenges the authority of a prefect and there may be a row followed by an imposition or a job.’

By 1969 the prefect system began to place more emphasis on these office-holders as representatives of the student body. The photo shows the 1970 prefects.

Gender Rules

In 1924 there were only 29 students at the College, all of them boys and young men.
Rules and regulations were made very clear and strictly enforced. But with the influx of girls in 1927 it became necessary to spell out yet another rule for the boys to observe.

‘Correspondence with girls other than sisters is not allowed. The association with girls is permitted only in family circles or in public gatherings which have been approved of by the Faculty.’
Agnes Nagaorcka from the class of 1927 remembers that it was forbidden to talk to the boys both in class and at recess time, and that meeting in the street by arrangement was a very serious offence. Yet, she continues, ‘we still found ways of communicating with the boy we liked or who showed that he liked us by frequent looks and smiles… My diaries from 1929 and 1930 have frequent references to thrills received from being noticed in a special way by some boy I liked at the time.’

By the 1950s the attitude had relaxed just a little.
‘Since the College is a co-educational school, boys and girls associate with one another on many occasions. Normal association between boys and girls at the College is not discouraged; but excessive association with one particular person of the other sex is forbidden. Meetings outside of the College, except at approved gatherings, are not permitted.’
Note: The photo from 1927 shows Concordia's first girls in Sunday dress.