Tracing Elsie Olive Evans — A Geelong Story Rediscovered

Family history often begins with a single object — something small, treasured, and quietly persistent. And from that seemingly small artefact a much larger story evolves. In the case of Elsie Olive Evans of North Geelong, that object is a silver cup: dented, shaken by the Napier earthquake, but still proudly held by her granddaughter, Robyn Miles. Its inscription, Queen of the Fair, Cowies Creek, 1916, has become the thread that has led back 110 years.

In 1916 we are introduced to a young woman living close to Cowies Creek in North Geelong. In that third year of warfare, the people of Geelong, like elsewhere in Victoria, are conscious of the suffering endured by their community’s young men. Her story opens a window on how those with family, friends and neighbours on the battlefields responded.

What we see is not just a glimpse of Elsie’s early life, but a window into the social world of Geelong in wartime — a world of school fairs, patriotic fundraising, community dances, and the everyday resilience of local families.

In 1851-2 subdivided land was sold at Cowies Creek, with the expectation that a town would grow around the mouth of the creek, close to what is now the Tasmanian Ferry Terminal. By the 1860s there were two hotels and a school, the future Cowies Creek State School, then known as the Cowies Creek Common School, had begun accepting students.

By 1916, when the first confirmed reference to Elsie appears in the Geelong Advertiser, Cowies Creek State School (State School No. 124) was acknowledged as 60 years old. It served the small rural community of the area and likely stood closer to the lower reaches of Cowies Creek, which sneaked untamed on its way to Corio Bay. In 1948 the school moved to its current location in Hendy Street, Corio. We also learn that George Evans was a great supporter of the school. Not surprising as Elsie notes that her three maternal uncles were schoolteachers!

In an account Elsie gave, in later life, her family kept a dairy herd. She wrote, “We lived on a dairy farm and had 30 cows all of which were milked by hand. We supplied a large number of private customers and the Public Hospital”. Elsie also paints a valuable portrait of the life her family lived and at the same time gives the modern reader an amazing portrait of the changes that have happened across more than a century. She wrote, “The only consolation I got out of getting up at 3.30 a.m. was when the sun rose over Port Phillip Bay, a glorious sight, and in spring when the oak trees came out in their new lovely green leaves”.

A patriotic fundraising fair was being planned, and the newspaper records that the meeting was chaired by Mr George Evans, Elsie’s father, who led the school committee. His role in guiding the preparations for, what was called, the Empire Fair places the Evans family firmly at the centre of the Cowies Creek community. It was at this very event, held on 19 May 1916, that Elsie was crowned Queen of the Fair.

The Queen of the Fair was the primary vehicle for fundraising to support the war effort. People purchased votes, often for only a penny, which they could use to determine the person they believed should be the “Queen”. These competitions raised substantial sums for patriotic causes and were a familiar feature of wartime fundraising across Victoria.

The trophy she received — the very cup that survives today — is a tangible reminder of the enthusiasm and generosity that characterised Geelong’s wartime community. That it later survived the Napier earthquake only adds to its story.

Two years later, Elsie appears again in the social pages, this time at the Hard Lines Ball, held in Pat O’Brien’s barn at Corio. The Hard Lines Ball was one of the district’s annual social highlights — a lively barn dance that drew families and young people from Cowies Creek, North Shore, and North Geelong. These events were light hearted morale boosters, offering music, dancing, and small prizes at a time when the war still overshadowed daily life.

In 1918, the newspaper noted that “Miss Elsie Evans, of Geelong North” was among the prize winners. It is a small detail, but a telling one: it shows Elsie not only as a participant in the school community but as an active young woman in the broader social life of the district. The barn dances at Corio were within easy reach of her home, her school community, and her workplace — part of the tight social geography that shaped her early adulthood.

It is likely that Elsie and her family could see the changes sweeping Geelong, after the end of the Great War. With them the days of running a small herd of dairy cattle would soon come to an end. By the early 1920s, Elsie was working in the office at the Geelong Freezing Works. The Corio Quay Freezing Works and Abattoir had been constructed by the Geelong Harbor Trust* in 1909 and were located in Corio Quay Road, North Geelong.

These developments formed part of a burgeoning industrial belt that pre dated the Ford Motor Company complex. The Freezing Works handled the chilling and export of meat from the surrounding region and employed a substantial clerical staff. It was here, almost certainly, that Elsie met the man who would become her husband: Harold Ure, a New Zealand born butcher and First World War veteran.

Harold had served with the New Zealand Army Service Corps and the Rifle Brigade, and like many returned servicemen, travelled for work in the years after the war. His trade would have placed him squarely within the Freezing Works workforce.

The geography is strikingly tight, and it appears that Elsie’s world lay within a radius of barely two kilometres: the small farms clustered along the creek, close to the Melbourne Road, the Cowies Creek State School just to the north of the Bay, and the Freezing Works only a short walk away on the foreshore.

The accompanying photograph, from the early 1920s, captures the changes occurring in North Geelong. It is easy to imagine Elsie watching these changes unfold, the quiet rural world of her childhood giving way to a new industrial age. It shows where Cowies Creek cuts through the Melbourne Road with the Ford Motor Factory in the background. The road is unsealed and the viewer can almost taste the dust thrown up by the cars, not to mention the horde of workers bicycling up the road. The photo itself is an iconic metaphor of a changing world.

For a young woman who had grown up beside Cowies Creek, the decision to leave Geelong was no small step. Yet optimism was a feature of the 1920s and The couple decided that the next chapter of their lives would take place in Ernest’s homeland of New Zealand.

Elsie and Ernest later married there, where they settled in Napier, raised five children, and shared more than fifty years of marriage. Both passed away in 1976, only weeks apart — a quiet testament to a long life lived together.

In tracing Elsie’s story across a century, what emerges is not simply a biography but a reminder of how ordinary lives are shaped by place, community, and the quiet courage of everyday choices.

From Cowies Creek to Corio Quay, from barn dances to the bustle of a changing industrial city, Elsie’s journey reflects the hopes and hardships of a generation that rebuilt their world after war. Her silver cup, once a small token of a school fair, now stands as a symbol of a life lived with resilience, humour, and a readiness to embrace new horizons. Through this rediscovery, Elsie steps back into view — not as a distant ancestor, but as a young woman whose story still speaks to us today.