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fair dinkum fifties and sixties cover

The Fair Dinkum Fifties and Sixties.

This was a time when life was very different to today. It brings back the simple pleasures of this wonderful era in Brisbane, Queensland, Australia. 

Everyone was happy, the Second World War was over, and family was everything.  

The story travels along from 1954 to 1969 and shows the massive lifestyle changes that occurred during the Sixties, when everyone became more affluent and people were happy and full of hope for the future.


In Store Price: $19.95 
Online Price:   $18.95


Ebook version - $AUD9.00 upload.

ISBN: 978-1-921005-50-3
Format: Paperback
Number of pages: 96
Genre: Non Fiction

Cover: Clive Dalkins

Back cover painting and other artwork throughout by Artist Gordon Hanley.Cover Image, used under license from Shutterstock.com

Mitrofanov Alexander/Shutterstock.com

© Cover Design—Zeus Publications 2019


Kevin Rogers

Publisher: Zeus Publications
Date Published:  2019
Language: English


     Read a sample:   




This book is in loving memory of


my beautiful, kind and loving mother, Vonnie.



Author profile 


Kevin Rogers was born in 1951 at Longreach, Queensland. In 1952, his family moved back to Brisbane to be closer to family. They moved to Stafford where they bought a small home.  

In 1954, they sold this and bought a weatherboard home at Grovely, another suburb of Brisbane. Kevin grew up here during the Fifties and Sixties and saw many changes.  

He became a plumber, and then designed hydraulics. He married in the mid-seventies and is blessed with three lovely children – Sarah, Scott and Matthew.  

During the mid-nineties Kevin’s marriage collapsed, and around 2005 he decided to leave the Big Smoke and settled in Bundaberg to make a fresh start. He scored a job there with the Bundaberg Council as a Plumbing Inspector and now lives happily retired near Oaks Beach at Burnett Heads with his old dog, Sheila.

Chapter One - PART SAMPLE

1954 – 1955


‘I don’t want to wear that stupid hat, it hangs over my ears,’ I declared to Mum; she was trying to dress me for a ride in the sidecar. I sat in front of her, near the windshield, with my own steering wheel. I was only three and a bit years old then and we lived on top of a hill in Stafford. Dad said, ‘Well, Kevin, if you don’t wear that hat, you can’t come,’ but I was determined not to wear it. Mum kept on trying and I stacked on a turn so Dad said, ‘Come on, Von, we’ll leave him at home,’ trying to call my bluff. They walked outside, started the motor up and let it idle, thinking I would give in. But I was a stubborn little bugger with big freckles and red hair and I stayed put. So Dad said, ‘Jump in, Von,’ and started down the dirt hill. I remember everywhere was quiet and I could see these big shadows in the room. They were moving about as the curtains swayed and I got scared. By the time I put that ugly thing on my head, they had returned and I gladly ran outside and jumped in the sidecar. Mum said, ‘That worked, Frank,’ and we took off down a very steep hill. I loved the sound the engine made; it was right beside me, revving up and down as Dad changed the gears, and the air was so fresh blowing past my face. Just as well I had my earmuffs on.

It was 1954 and life in Brisbane was very different then. You made your own fun. There were no TVs or computers, just the radio. Our favourite shows were Dexter and Dad and Dave. My kelpie dog, Toby, who was the same age as me, would lie on the floor, my head on his belly, listening intently to all the comedy and Mum, Dad and I would laugh for hours. That’s what made those times so good. You used your imagination. We lived in a little timber house with high ceilings, on a dirt road at the top of a hill, near the water reservoir. Dad would work on weekends making all kinds of repairs. One day he was doing work outside and as usual I was busy getting under his skin. I was only a terrible two then, so he placed me in my playpen back indoors. By the time he walked back outside I had lifted the playpen up, folded it in towards me and walked out too, I fixed them. Mum and Dad just laughed. Mum reckons she would give me a bottle in my cot and if it didn’t have the right teat or the milk was just not right, I would toss it across the room in protest. She would just shake her head.   

One morning, early, a big flat tray truck parked outside. Dad explained we were moving to another suburb called Grovely, so we packed the truck up, everything tied on with rope, and set off to our new home. It was grand, had a big yard on a corner, an outdoor thunderbox and even a hot water tap over the bath, and Mum had twin wash tubs and a copper boiler in the laundry – such luxury.




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