Gift and Visiting Day

Concordia’s annual Gift and Visiting Day was one of the highlights of the college year and a valuable source of extra support for various projects.
The idea was proposed by Pastor Elmore Leske, a former headmaster, and although it was endorsed by the College Board of Management, there was one interesting proviso. The board believed that it would ‘not be a good move to conduct stalls for that day. This is a very controversial matter in our circles and to engage in such an activity at the central College would set the standard for the whole church.’
The first Gift and Visiting Day was organised by both the Old Boys and the Old Girls Associations and held on 20^th September 1958. Events included football and basketball competitions, organised tours of the college and a concert. There was just one stall, for refreshments only.

In the following years there were further developments, with stalls offering plants, cakes, sweets and even a lucky dip. In 1968 there was a cabaret on the Saturday evening and a special church service on Sunday morning.  The art exhibition in 1969 featured work by prominent Adelaide artists, and a piece of sculpture, ‘Born to Destroy’ (see photo), was bought for the college and displayed in the office foyer.

Major projects which benefited from the money raised on Gift and Visiting Days were the canteen and its equipment (1960-1962), basketball/tennis courts (1965), the kitchen and dining room complex (1964), the library, the college bus service (1966) and the former chapel pipe organ (1968-70).

The Croc

Many old collegians will remember the ‘croc’. This was the two-by-two procession (resembling a crocodile) of the girl boarders as they made their way between the hostel in Wattle St and Concordia. Since the college dining room was not large enough to accommodate all students, the girls walked back to the hostel for lunch before returning for afternoon classes.   At the end of the school day they made the final trip back to the hostel. The walk between the College and the hostel took around 10-12 minutes at a steady pace, and by the end of each school day the girls had covered 4 km by foot.

A boy student from the 1940s provides a personal perspective on the ‘croc.’ He remembers how the girls ‘came up the long pathway under the huge cedar trees. The senior students sat in their upstairs study windows….. and the girls displayed a casual nonchalance, knowing full well they were being watched. There is no doubt that college life was brightened considerably by the presence of girls.’

Although these walks may have helped them keep fit, the experience was not always pleasurable. A girl student from 1955 wrote that the ‘croc’ consisted of ‘seventy or eighty human automatons ….slowly but surely flattening the path between the hostel and the College three times a day. The way is hot and dusty in summer, wet and muddy in winter… In summer our shoes are brown with dust, in winter they are brown with mud, so really there is no sense in wearing black shoes. It is the unanimous opinion of the girls that the path should be bituminized.’

In 1958 another student wrote that it was ‘quite entertaining to see just how many cars and buses we can hold up whilst crossing the road, or seeing just how long we can manage to walk in ‘three’ before the prefects send the odd one to the back of the line.’

Playing Dirty

When the College introduced hockey for girls in 1960, the sport quickly grew in popularity.
Even though most of the players were raw novices, by 1974 there were four teams of girls competing with great enthusiasm.
Brown and Gold magazines for these years contain graphic reports. Hockey was described as a ‘game for the survival of the fittest’, but ‘worth the sore ankles, bluish-black bruised legs and muddy clothes that result from a hard-fought match …. ‘Hockey one, hockey two’ comes the cry from the girls playing hockey or more likely a cry of pain as someone is swiped by a stick on the ankle!’  (1968)

‘Once again this year, as winter arrived, the oval was filled with sticks and legs and little white balls. It was none other than the A hockey team, braving the wind, the rain and the mud. Success was not a key word in the A matches, and although we did not win a match, we were able to hold our opponents’ scores low. Miss Miller’s experienced coaching was much appreciated; so also was the umpiring of Paul Fielke.’ (1970)

Heat Wave Chronicle

During February and March 1940 a severe heat wave made daily life at Concordia close to unbearable, yet also very memorable. Comments in the Brown and Gold magazine record the experiences of students at a time when there was no air-conditioning and fans were considered an unnecessary luxury.

‘The Concordian divested himself of coat and tie and sought relief beneath the shadow of the old palm tree. Lying there he idly contemplated the possibility of being excused from work, and discussed with fellow students in distress the desirability of installing electric fans in all classrooms, studies and dormitories.  But he concludes that these are Utopian schemings. Dinner time brought with it a sight unprecedented in the history of Concordia – fifty students in the dining hall without a coat between them. The old rule regarding attire in the dining hall had been relaxed temporarily.’

On March 9^th, with a temperature of 110 degrees, cricket still went ahead. Teams and spectators drank six gallons of raspberry cordial. The following day compulsory study time was cancelled by order of the faculty. Permission was also granted for beds to be taken to the lawn or to the turf court so that boys could spend the night under the stars.
On Monday the tuck-shop broke all records with the sale of cool drinks and ice blocks; and by Tuesday those classrooms most affected by the heat were abandoned. Lessons took place on the lawns and cricket practice was replaced by a trip to the beach.

The photos show the outdoor sleeping arrangements.

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.