The collective memories of “dunny stories” resonate deeply within the community, especially among Col8ers, despite the long absence of such practices from everyday life. Patricia Slidziunas from Woonona reflects on how Christmas gatherings in Thirroul added unique challenges for locals during the era of the “dunny man.” Visitors often required extra sanitary accommodations, which led to creative solutions like ordering additional cans and asking male guests to use the local lemon tree for their urgent needs. These anecdotes highlight not just the practicalities of rural living but also the quaint customs that arose to manage this essential aspect of life.
Peter Riley from Penrith shares an interesting memory related to the mechanics of dunny trucks operated by Hornsby Council. He recounts how these modified WWII surplus vehicles struggled to traverse the hilly terrain, particularly when navigating Duffy Avenue to Quarter Sessions Road. The precarious nature of these journeys sometimes resulted in mishaps, such as the truck spilling its contents—an unpleasant surprise for unsuspecting pedestrians, reminiscent of past challenges faced by those involved in waste management. Such memories illustrate the often humorous yet challenging realities of sanitation in earlier times.
From Wollongong, Mia David provides insight into how families utilized waste from dunnies in innovative ways. She recalls that men would discreetly dispose of dunny contents into vegetable gardens, where it transformed into potent fertilizer. This practice led to particularly bountiful harvests, including record-breaking strawberries. These accounts serve as a testament to communal resourcefulness, reflecting the intertwined relationship between sanitation and agriculture in the community’s history.
Meanwhile, Dave Pyett shares light-hearted anecdotes from his summer holidays in Katoomba during the late 1950s. His childhood memories of an outside dunny include playful encounters, particularly the instance when they rocked the structure with a friend’s sister inside. One memorable incident involved a late dunny man whose truck tipped over, resulting in a comedic yet chaotic scene, where the contents of the pans spilled out, inadvertently enriching the surrounding flora. Such stories illustrate how even mundane aspects of life could spark laughter and camaraderie among neighbors.
In Broken Hill, Donald Hawes recalls a tradition practiced by his parents on the eve of Christmas, where they would leave a bottle of Cooper’s Stout atop the dunny lid for the collector. This gesture, quite common in urban areas, reflects a sense of humor and community spirit, as the dunny man would navigate both the waste removal and the retrieval of the bottle, symbolizing the longstanding relationship between service providers and residents. It adds depth to the understanding of these individuals not merely as workers but as integral members of the community fabric.
Shifting tones, many Col8ers have also noted the amusing case of nominative determinism involving Jayne Hrdlicka, who recently assumed the role of chief executive in charge of a group managing hotels and liquor outlets, including BWS and Dan Murphy’s. This observation not only delights readers but also highlights an engaging blend of humor and business acumen prevalent in community discussions. Through these various narratives and anecdotes, the influence of traditional practices on contemporary life remains a lively topic, fostering connections among generations.
