Sylvia was the second eldest and longest lived of our father's family. She was also the only one with any flair for making money. The only one too that we three brothers got to know at all well. In spite of this there does not seem to be a single clear photograph of her as a grown-up available. This is one of her aged eleven. She must have been a good looker in her day, slim and well proportioned, with clear light blue eyes.
Born Norway, came to South Africa when she was ten. I know next to nothing about her early life except that at one time she was a hairdresser.
Married Dick, an Englishman and a policeman. I assume he was in the South African Police in Capetown, at a time before they were required to speak Afrikaans. He became ill, with what I never discovered, but he never worked all the years I knew him and finally died in 1950-something, though he seldom seemed ill. Sylvia found herself having to earn to support them. Perhaps this is when she went into hairdressing, though I suspect that was before her marriage.
More important, she took an interest in the stock market. Starting with £14 (she told me) she bought shares and by judicious selling and buying, over a fairly short period had amassed a tidy sum. Sufficient to finance a tour of the US and Europe, taking in the Chicago World Fair of 1933 (though it might have been New York 1939).
Lived in idyllic place in Clifton on slope of Lion's Head mountain where it descends steeply to the sea on the Atlantic side of the Cape Peninsula. I forget how many hundreds of steps you had to walk down from the road to her house. Another hundred took you to the sea-shore below.
Her house was located on the far edge of the bay in the picture. Their living room commanded a view of the ocean and you could watch the weekly mail-boat from England steaming to or from Capetown harbour. Uncle Dick always kept a pair of binoculars handy through which you could also examine closely other craft - fishing boats, frigates, cargo ships, whalers - and also sea-birds and - best of all - porpoises!
Over the years Sylvia also erected out-buildings on her property which she rented as apartments to well-heeled bachelors on very favourable terms (to her). I remember this all because David and I spent several holidays at Sylvia's (Alan was too young).
Sylvia is impossible to sum up briefly. She was eccentric, cantankerous (my Dad's word), racist, resouceful and other things as well.
The only picture we have of her as an adult is the very poor quality one shown here of her holding great-nephew Anton in 1976. Surely someone, somewhere has a better one.
More about this in the 'More About ...Sylvia' page currently in gestation, which will be much juicier than this one.
I last saw Sylvia in 1979 living in a large flat in Sea Point, a fashionable suburb adjoining Clifton. She'd have been into her 80s then and beginning to show it. She had just about recovered from a freak accident. A year or two earlier she'd been walking up Adderley Street in the heart of Capetown, which is afflicted from time to time by a very fierce wind called the Southeaster. A sudden gust caught her in the back and propelled her towards a building. She put up her arms to protect herself and when she hit the wall suffered two broken wrists. I don't think there's any moral to this tale. Just one of those things that happen.
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