Twain Street, Footscray - Monday 20 October

Last Saturday afternoon wasn't short of drama in Twain Street. 

I had spent much of the day organising for our open space ‘Community Day’, to be held in five weeks time. I was telling my neighbour, Mrs Chicello (a widow who has lived at number 17 for 56 years), about it, when a police car drew up to the next-door house.  

Two police officers leapt out and bounded up the steps to the front door. They banged on it loudly several times, announcing to occupants, “Police! Open up”. 

The door opened, revealing a young, 20-something male punk rocker. The police talked to him for several minutes. Then, placing the handcuffs on the young man, they lead him away into the police car.

As the police car drew away, a young female punk rocker put her head out the front door and yelled, “Don’t think you can get way with this you arseholes, my father is a famous lawyer!”

Mrs Chicello, looking a little shocked, told me, “The Bongiovani’s lived in that house for over 60 years. They were our best friends”. Shaking her head sadly and starting to move away back up her garden path, more to herself than me, “What has happened to street, it used to be such a lovely street …”.

As I watched her disappear through her front door, I felt for her. Trying to imagine what it must be like to live in a place for so long. Seeing her neighbourhood change so much, through both the continuum of life and death, and socio economic changes to the municipality.

I walked back to my house and before going inside, surveyed the ugly concrete car park at the end of street, “That has got to go”, I announced to no one in particular. From behind me I heard, “With you on that one, Caroline”. 

I turned to see Tania, smiling and walking towards me, pushing her 6-month baby, Ben. "Do you know about the community day?”, I asked. “Coming with bells on!”, she replied.