when he experienced tough times. This
was the case even though some of them had become very wealthy. When my father had been in a position to help people, he had
done so unstintingly; yet when he himself needed assistance, very little was forthcoming. I remember Dad telling me that people
he had helped in the past, and who had since made a lot of money, had done everything they could to avoid him in his time
of need. Even though he had four young children (Louise wasn’t born yet), had lost his business, and was in financial difficulty,
these people, when they saw my father coming down the street, would actually cross to the other side: they didn’t want to
have to place themselves in a situation where they might feel obliged to offer him help. My father was absolutely stunned
by this behavior. When he used to tell me about these incidents I could see how hurt he was. My heart went out to him and
I realized even then, at an early age, that people weren’t always nice and didn’t always do the right and decent thing.
There were of course two or three notable exceptions, with whom the family are still in touch. I recently spoke to Ida Zoltak,
an elderly lady who still lives in Melbourne and whose husband David Zoltak had boarded with my father when he arrived from
Czestochowa in 1937. She made a point of telling me that she had seen
Shine
and thought the way Peter was characterized was “a disgrace.” “The real Peter Helfgott,” she said, “was a very nice, gentle,
and lovable man. I can only say nice things about him because there was nothing bad about him.” Another person who became
a lifelong friend after my father had put him up when he arrived from Poland in 1938 was Laizar Shaw. Laizar came to visit
me in Israel a few years ago and also told me what a truly wonderful man my father was.
However, most of my father’s so-called friends somehow disappeared when he needed them. This was one of the reasons why he
wanted to make a fresh start in Perth, although the main factors were harsh economic conditions and his difficulty in finding
suitable employment.
Before we sailed for Perth, Dad wanted to give David and me a special treat to put us in a good mood and prepare us for the
trip. In June 1953, when Elizabeth II was crowned queen, all the kids in Melbourne were given a day off school to mark the
event. Australia at that time was a very loyal member of the British Commonwealth. First Dad took us to lunch at a big department
store in Melbourne called Myers and spoiled us with special kinds of candy and ice cream. Then we went to an amusement park
called Luna Park. Its entrance was constructed so as to resemble an enormous clown’s face and one had to walk through his
giant wide-open mouth to get in. We had a great time there eating cotton candy and having a go on all kinds of rides; it was
my first experience of the big dipper, which hurtled up and down at terrific speed and was so absolutely terrifying that I’ll
never forget it.
We made the 2,200 mile trip to Perth, which is the capital of Western Australia, by sea. Our journey took us first through
Bass Strait (which separates the state of Victoria from the island of Tasmania) and then we sailed across the Great Australian
Bight on the southern side of the continent. The boat took six days at that time, with no stops. All of us were utterly seasick,
except for my father. We just wanted to stay in our cabin bed but Dad insisted that we go up on deck and breathe in the fresh
air. After a couple of days of his urging, David and I finally emerged from our queasy slumber and went up on deck. The salty
fresh air made us feel better in no time, and in the end the trip turned out to be quite fun. We ran around playing games
all over the boat. However, the journey was an ordeal for my mother and father, since at the time Suzie was just a six-month-old
baby and Leslie was only two and a half.
When we
David Stuckler Sanjay Basu
Aiden James, Patrick Burdine