Not sure if we had this here before, but I found it interesting, as I am sure that many of you older historians will!
This article was written by Chris Gericke, a school teacher at OPS, a very interesting character and a solid supporter of the Oranjemund Players.
In it he discusses his picture of the "Sic transit Gloria - or Virginia" sign at the old Gemsbok workshops and wonders what it means, how it came about, what lost loves it signified and who could have painted it. I can put my hand up for that and give the full background.
At that time I was the sole staffer at the electrical workshop there and as such the first stop out of town for my disreputable bunch of mates who lived further north at the Uubvley single quarters. It was all very laissez faire in those days and pretty normal for passers-by to drop in for a cup of coffee and a chat. Provided there were no emergencies they could count on finding me ready and willing.
On one occasion they arrived by truck complete with their weekly load of booze. On stopping they found some of the boxes of beer and other hooch had come adrift on the back of the truck so they did a repack. There was no damage but for a large flagon jar of Virginia - an appallingly sweet white wine whose only claim to fame was that it was cheap - that had cracked at the neck.
No probs, but forget the coffee. Out came the cups, the entire flagon was quaffed in minutes and the jar duly smashed against the nearest rock (eco-friendly they were not). Then off they roared, Uubvley bound, in great voice and great good humour.
As they disappeared northwards it occurred to me that the incident should be recorded for posterity.
So thought, so done, and the piece of graffiti which Chris photographed for the article - which appeared in the Newsletter many years later - was duly painted on the concrete base of the old screening plant.
It paraphrased the old Roman warning on the death of an emperor: "So passes glory". To which I added: "or Virginia"
Sorry Chris, a very mundane reason after all, no tears, no lost love, no mooi meisie.
Mention of mooi meisies brings in Chris's description of Mooimeisiesfontein as a rail station on the line to the north. It was hardly that, there were never any "stations" on that line it was merely a means to convey the cocopans from the screening plants to the HMS. The line ran from Central Fields to Mittag.
But Mooimeisiesfontein was indeed alongside the rail line, at a particularly unappealing point in the desert about four kilometres south of Uubvley. It was a corrugated iron workshop used for servicing Le Tournea and Caterpillar equipment, originally named "Le Quatre Ventes" (The Four Winds) by a couple of ex-pats and then changed to Mooimeisiesfontein when illusion was found preferable to reality.
The building shown in the picture is an old sub-station where HT was transformed down to 220 volts for use at the workshop.
I also spent time at Mittag and remember Bobbejaan's Bult in its heyday and those humorous signs. The single quarters were just over the hill from the workshops. The cook in those days was Zulu - never heard him referred to by any other name - a hugely beer-bellied character who later married and went to run the company mess at Kleinzee.
It was at Mittag single quarters where plant operator Bob Burdett caused mayhem on one particularly hot southeaster day when - perhaps it was the heat - he decided to vary his usual end of shift hitch back to his room on a Le Tourneau front end loader by insisting the driver move over while he took the controls.
All went well until he reached the quarters and tried to stop. It seems he hit the wrong pedal and sent several tons of earthmoving machinery through two rooms and took the roof of a toilet. Fortunately the rooms were unused and empty but Zulu was sitting on the toilet when the roof disappeared. It must have been the fastest bowel evacuation Zulu had ever experienced.
In the casual manner of the day the Quarters were simply modified to operate with two rooms fewer, the toilet roof was replaced, Zulu placated with a bottle of brandy and Bob paid for the booze for six single guys for the next week. No one at the official level was any the wiser, or if indeed they knew of the incident they wisely ignored it, and life at Bobbejaan's Bult went on as before.
Good story Bob
Nice stuff Bob, another chapter to your Oranjemund Memoirs Book perhaps?
When I was an APpie, I always found it fascinating, all the various informal signage that was put up all over the mine. Fortunate to work at 50G,(after the plant closed), we had the run of the mine. This was under Gus Buchanan's watch..... we had a 4th year Appie, Herman Witbooi.....(who currently still resides here), who had an accident on a bend. This particular bend was just north of 2 plant..... I took a drive up there to have a look at the particular spot.... I also added an informal signboard next to the road..... Forever known (well for two year at least) as Herman's Hoek!
Up-out
Mooimiesies became the HT mine workshop prior to us moving to Uubvley complex, I stand to be corrected we had a guy Colin who started using mooimiesies building as a workshop on the mine side as HT worked from town powerstation and mooimiesies is perfectly situated to cover the whole mine area. Mooimiesies still stands today lots of alterations and buildings added.
Beverly hills is still there sand dunes starting there occupation and making themselves residents of the building.
Alfred
Bob
Your story about the Le Tourneau laoder reminds me about the time a Cat 966 loader almost went through the front of mess at Affenrucken.
Evidently the driver was a diesel mechanic who had come out from Uubvlei workshop to service the machine. He was wanting some lunch, was running late and came screaming up the road to the mess and slammed on the brakes at the last minute, forgetting the loose gravel in front of the mess. He skidded for about 10 metres and demolished the small front veranda of the building.
Nothing was said either and a new veranda was quietly built. Dont know if the powers that be ever got to hear about it. The debris was carted to the dump behind the hill.
Malcolm