I recently returned from Liverpool, in the UK, where I visited John Lennon’s childhood home. I stood in his bedroom and gazed out of the window – the very view he would have contemplated countless times.
A replica of his original acoustic guitar lies on the bed. The walls are adorned with posters of Elvis and Brigitte Bardot. The entire house is a late 1950s time capsule. Paul McCartney’s house offers a similar experience. Both are heritage-listed and protected by the National Trust.
The National Trust leaves the light on in John Lennon’s childhood bedroom, to mark his birthday.Credit: Tom Compagnoni
All of Liverpool feels like a living museum – Strawberry Field, Penny Lane, the Eleanor Rigby gravestone. It’s all there, lovingly maintained, preserved for future generations. Respected. Cherished.
Shortly after that Beatles pilgrimage, I returned to Sydney to learn that the childhood home of Angus and Malcolm Young, founders of Australia’s greatest cultural export, AC/DC, had suddenly been demolished to make way for a high-rise block of flats, office spaces and a five-star hotel.
The house where Angus and Malcolm learnt to play guitar – guided by their older brother, George of the Easybeats fame – was reduced to rubble. Worse, the developer says they had no idea the house had any heritage significance.
How does something like this happen?
Before: 4 Burleigh Street, Burwood.Credit: Tom Compagnoni
The site afterwards.Credit: Tom Compagnoni
Are we Sydneysiders so drunk on property profits that we’ve lost sight of the special nuggets of nostalgia that – just like in Liverpool – should be preserved? Is Sydney’s future one that ignores its past? Are we leaving anything behind for our children beyond a lifetime of debt for a few rooms in a concrete tower?
