Images(2)

Julius Castle matchbook

Date1950-1980

Object number00054849

NameMatchbook

MediumInk on paper

DimensionsOverall: 55 × 50 × 2 mm, 3 g

ClassificationsEphemera

Credit LineANMM Collection Gift from Jeff Allan

Terms

DescriptionA souvenir matchbook from the Julius Castle restaurant in San Francisco. It features a white background with maroon depiction of a wooden castle on a cliff and text reading 'Julius Castle 302 Greenwich Near Montgomery'. Julius Castle was opened in 1922 by Julius Roz in San Francisco. It was constucted from salvaged redwood and maple wood from the demolition of the Panama–Pacific International Exposition in 1919. In the 1920s the castle was painted its signiture pink colour and still stands today. This matchbook is part of a collection of matchbooks collected by Vanessa (Zena) Roberson from the USA, Canada and Australia and include US Navy ships, commercial ocean lines and bars and restaurants. They were stored in a Marlboro cigarette box, 00054836.HistoryThis souvenir matchbook from the Julius Castle was part of collection belonging to Vanessa Roberson. Her story is told here by her grandson, Jeff Allan: "My grandmother spent her last 10 years in a fog of dementia, but I could still squeeze a memory from her, even a cackle, if I mentioned the navy balls of the '50s. They were the brightest spots in her life. She lived in Sydney's King Cross, just minutes away from where the navy - and visiting navies - used to dock their ships at the city's naval base. The excitement and glamour of an incoming fleet brightened an otherwise poverty stricken life. Vanessa Roberson, known as Zena to her family, Van to her friends, grew up in country New South Wales. Born in 1912, she married early and spent her days cooking for the farm workers on her property. She would rise early, collect eggs and milk, prepare breakfast for 20 men and take it out to the back paddocks, returning only in time to begin the process over again for a cooked lunch. The rest of her time was spent washing, cleaning and looking after her only son. Meanwhile, her husband openly slept around town and had little time for her. At some stage, in her late 30's, Vanessa left. She arrived at Sydney's Central station with a son under one arm and a wooden mantle clock under the other. Cleaning out my father’s flat recently, I came across an old briefcase among a pile of junk headed for the tip. My father, Vanessa's only son, now 80, was doing a big-out and had no t8ime for "sentimental crap". My brother and I made five trips to the tip that day, and I hoarded anything that looked like it might have belonged to my grandmother, shoving it under the seat of my car. back home that night, I opened the briefcase and found my Nan's life inside: American Zippo lighters from the 1950's and 1960's, some in their original boxes, some not, each engraved with the US Navy ship's insignia, all with small notes listing the captain's name, the ship and the date. (She was an excellent note-keeper. It makes me ponder what our children will find of us? Will we even leave handwritten records? Will a thousand digital photos on a USB contain the same wonder as a single black-and-white photo of my grandmother posing by a train?) A suitcase I managed to salvage contained hundreds of letters, original ship boarding brochures and scallop-edged invitations to the navy ball (God knows what else my father threw out). Names became real people. There was Rocky, a captain who escorted my grandmother on board the USS ARNEB, while engaged in Operation Deep Freeze, the US Navy's mission to Antarctica. He squired Vanessa around town and gave her several lighters, including a beautiful art deco mother-of-pearl version. He pursued her for marriage but she was never to go into that institution again. She would write to these men long after they had sailed away, and they would write back regularly, in warm letters telling of their voyages, of crime-riddled Chicago or tropical Pago Pago, and they would always enclose a ship's lighter, per her request. Whenever I saw my Nan, even as she faded so far that she didn’t know who I was, I could still make her laugh. I only had to mention the Coral Sea Ball. She may have been bed- bound in a nursing home but for Vanessa Roberson, a happy dreamer formerly of Cooma New South Wales, latterly Kings Cross, in her mind it was 1957 and she was dancing with Rocky." Jeff Allan, The Australian Financial Review, 19 December 2015. SignificanceThese book matches stored inside a cigarette packet represent a time when smoking tobacco was a socially desirable and acceptable habit endorsed by government entities such as the US Navy and businesses in general.

Match books with advertising on the back and front were often given away to clients and customers who were seen using them or passed them on to others as a popular and effective marketing tool in the 1950 - 1980s when cigarette smoking was at its peak, in the USA but also in Australia. They also became quasi souvenirs of people and places and are now the subject of significant collections of ephemera.