​This page will attempt to show the changing face of the edifices that stood on the property known as 19-21 Byrnes Street, Botany, New South Wales by using photographs from personal collections and images available on the internet. This compilation is by no means complete and will be added to as and when new information comes to hand.

When the Bonaretti family moved to Byrnes Street in 1959, the area and the street itself were zoned light industrial and only existing houses were permitted to be occupied. As each house was sold and demolished, only factories were allowed to be built in its place and any accommodation within them were to be "caretakers' residences". It was this provision that allowed the Bonaretti family to remain at this address and reside in their new, purpose-built complex in 1977.
 
In 1958, the street was a narrow cul-de-sac with a paved footpath on its eastern side and a grassy, uneven footpath on the other. Only the centre strip of the road was paved with jagged blue metal gravelling, leaving compacted earth on either side to the kerb which quickly muddied and potted during rainstorms. Vehicles parked on either side during the workweek making the road even narrower but, during the weekends, the street was completely deserted save the few residents who had a car and who lived in the few remaining cottages at either end of the street - a great playground for the three Bonaretti children!

​Prior to this, the street must have been a compacted earth road as, three years after the Municipality of Botany had come into being in 1888, The Australian Star (Sydney, NSW : 1887 - 1909) Fri 20 Feb 1891 edition published an account of the Council meeting during which "...The following were the motions  of which notice had been given By Alderman Luland — "That the footpaths in Bastia-street, on the south side, be extended from the culvert to Ann-street and the water tables made. "Also — "That the overseer of works be instructed to proceed at once with the forming and gravelling of Byrne's-road." [and] By Alderman Pemberton— "That the main drain in Boralee-street [sic] be cleared out by day-labor."

The Municipality of Botany, in the Evening News (Sydney, NSW : 1869 - 1931) Sat 19 Jan 1889 edition called for "... TENDERS are hereby invited for the construction of a Culvert in Byren's-road [sic]. Specifications may be seen, on application to the undersigned. The lowest or any tender not necessarily accepted. The successful tenderer to enter a bond for the faithful performance of the work. By Order, GEO. GARTON, Council Clerk. Botany, January 14th, 1889."

​Much has changed, and Byrnes Street continues to evolve...

The following are screen grabs from Google Maps listed retrogressively. The main image in each period is of 19-21 Byrnes Street. The two side images are of the adjoining properties, nos 23 and 17.

These screen grabs of 23 Byrnes Street were taken from Super 8 film shot during construction of the new factory complex at 19-21 Byrnes Street.
They show the beautifully kept house, garage and gardens of Mr. and Mrs. Anthony. Their home was their pride and joy. All the embellishments to the fence, gate, garage and house - and, indeed, the water fountain in front with the hand-crafted swan atop - were the handiwork and craftsmanship of Mr. Anthony. Inside was equally as tastefully decorated. This was a showcase. A pity it went to ruin, and eventually demolished, when they passed away.

And this was the brand-spanking-new building that Jim Bonaretti built in 1977

The land on which the current building now stands, 19-21 Byrnes Street, Botany has had quite a few owners. This next section lists those who held Certificates of Title for the locality that would become Byrnes Street, from the traditional owners through the first land granted to Simeon Lord in 1823 and beyond.

The piece of land known now as 19-21 Byrnes Street, Botany, has been held, granted, divided, sub-divided, sub-divided again, sold and rented many times over the last two hundred years of European tenure. The following is a concise outline of those transactions. These details are subject to further investigation and change… 

The following transactions have been taken from various sources, mainly from Real Estate advertisements.

​4th July, 1997
The property is transferred to Paul Kenny when he purchases the Lot known as 19-21 Byrnes Street for $650,000.
 
2nd November, 2006
The property is listed for sale for 78 days but not sold.

10th August, 2007
The property is listed for sale for 314 days but not sold.

4th March, 2011
The property is listed for sale but not sold.
 
21st August, 2012
The property is sold for $1,700,000 by private treaty after being listed for 311 days
 
May, 2017
Part of the property is listed for rent and, after 213 days, is rented to Zebra Studios.
 
18th June, 2018
Listed for rent at $80,000 per annum.
 
28th July 2018
A portion of the apartment is leased at $210 per week. This is the main bedroom on the south-east corner and the bathroom on the south side.
 
7th October, 2020
Listed for sale but not sold.
 
4th August, 2021
Property settles on this date after being sold on 1st April for $4,500,000. It had been listed for 44 days.

In 1959 when the Bonaretti children moved into their new old premises at 19 Byrnes Street, Botany, they were 9, 4 and 1 respectively. The house they moved into was old and run-down and a far cry from the old but elegant Victorian terraced house they enjoyed in Hutchinson Street, St Peters. The linoleum throughout this weatherboard cottage was worn and scrappy, paint was flaking away from walls and ceilings and the annex at the back of the house was an unlined shed that housed the twin concrete laundry tubs and a bathtub. This served as a laundry-cum-bathroom; the mirror hanging above the tubs made it so. Outside, in another wooden structure stuck to the shed, was the privy. It was inhabited by spiders—mostly daddy-longlegs and red-backs. No electric light at night to check which arachnids were lurking under the toilet seat, only a handheld torch or candle. Far better for the kids to use the guzunda.
The front of the weatherboard cottage had a verandah where the hardwood timber floor was weathered and rotting, and the front garden, divided down the centre by a broken concrete path leading to the front door, comprised of weeds, prickly bindii and real grass pushing through the underlay of old bricks. The fence was non-existent, save the two or three hardwood posts stuck in the earth along the front boundary, surmounted by equally rotting rails from which was suspended tattered cyclone fencing. The only purpose of that fence was to hold up a tin letter box. Riding the fence cowboy-style only resulted in splinters to tender inner thighs.
The “lawn” in the back yard was more a veld. The grass was over a foot high and it, too, housed a variety of native fauna—mostly fleas. A controlled torching of the mini pampas soon took care of the tiny vampiric parasites and, to stop the grass from coming back, Jim covered the entire yard with coke —not the drinking or snorting kind, but the residue product of heating coal: crunchy underfoot and not conducive to the comfortable enjoyment of children’s games.
The other, more ramshackle old house that stood on 21 Byrnes Street was quickly taken down and, in its place, Jim built a single-storey, gable-roofed factory that accommodated all the needs he envisaged for his growing toy manufactory.

Meanwhile, on the other side of number 19 was a vast empty lot cordoned off by a high cyclone fence, which was easily breached by bored, intrepid children. The front portion of that lot was being constructed upon, but the back portion was a vast sandy desert complete with an oasis in the centre which appeared after heavy rain. It was so tempting for the three to raft it from one side to the other…if, indeed, they had had a raft. They did consider mounting one of the empty drums strewn about the otherwise barren sandscape but quickly put that idea to rest—no paddles. So, they satisfied themselves by standing on the brink of this lake of stagnant water and watch the wigglers dart about.
This vacant piece of land would eventually be subdivided and become the home of Lockwood McGrath Pty Ltd, industrial chemical manufacturers, and be the source of many unpleasant odours, the worst of which was ammonia. Ah, the good old days before the NSW Environment Protection Authority!

The three Bonaretti children were the only children at that end of the street; others lived at the other end and out-of-bounds. In McFall Street, Sherry and Mark Wong lived with their parents, Erith Street housed Kevin Horseman also around 9 years of age, and on Bay Street opposite the school were Peggy and Johnny. They would not become friends until a few years after they began school at Botany Public School.

The few residential houses along the southern end of Byrnes Street were occupied by older couples who were either childless or whose children had already left home, so it was only natural that the three new kids on the block became favourites of those few senior couples.
The Anthonys
In number 23, the last house on the western side of Byrnes Street, lived a childless couple, Mr. and Mrs. Anthony, who had moved in only a little earlier. He—Mark (yes, the jokes were obvious even to the kids)—was Maltese and a painter and decorator and had lost the index finger of his right hand. She—Alma Elizabeth—was Australian and a housewife—as was expected in “those days”, and looked after him, their extravagantly decorated house and their two dogs, Tiki, the Maltese Terrier and their Alsatian (“German Shepherd” in reality but two wars against the Teutons moved the breed from Germany to across the border to Alsace.) Tiki was an indoor dog and quite cantankerous; the Alsatian lived in his own, beautifully crafted kennel next to the equally beautifully decorated garage located between the two Canary Island date palms. The entire house, garage and kennel were a symphony of artistic endeavour, finished in tones of white, orange and yellows with a fish tank and water fountain in the front garden, atop a pedestal and crowned by a hand-crafted swan spurting water from its beak. Beds of roses filled the border with number 21 and the frontage.
But, best of all, they had a television receiver! Before long, while their parents worked in the factory, the three children sat in front of the miracle of science and enjoyed cartoons and the adventure series that had once been the serials at the ubiquitous picture theatres. A glass of milk each and a couple of biscuits satisfied their appetites until Mamma called them home for a typical Italian evening meal.
Across the road were four more residences: numbered 28, 34, 36 and 38.
The Archdeacons
At 34 Byrnes Street lived Mr. and Mrs. Norman Archdeacon, an elderly couple (at least that how they appeared to the three children); in the late 1950s, they would have been in their late 50s. There, too, was a television and there, too, the kids were entertained by the couple. Mrs. Archdeacon—Nellie Alma—was a dressmaker and took in work at home. She was small and wiry, grey-haired and bespectacled, and very kind. She attempted to show the eldest of the children how to sew and was most amused by the length of thread that the youngster employed: “That’s enough to tie up the Queen Mary!” she once pronounced. Mr. Archdeacon was known simply as “Mister”. He was tallish and pot-bellied. Balding and forever smoking a roll-your-own, he rode a motorised bicycle and always wore a brown trilby and a brown suit of clothes that was once fashionable in the ’40s. In the narrow hall of their brick cottage stood a phonograph that played wax cylinders—a delight then and a museum piece now if it still existed. The house itself was small and dark. The front yard was narrow and concealed by a high, thick murraya hedge. The verandah, too, was narrow. The right half was closed off and used as a storage room for Mister’s bicycle and the other was open and a favourite spot for Mister to sit in an old easy chair. This was also the place where his body was found 26th June 1967 with an injury to his head. Police detectives would interview Jim, but no further consequence came of it.
The Lees 
Next door, in a weatherboard cottage that appeared to be on stilts, lived Mr. and Mrs. Lee, the physical opposite of the Archdeacons: she was rotund and tall, and he withered and weathered. Their children too had flown the nest, but the Lees were not as open to entertaining the three Bonaretti kids however, neither were they mean or nasty. Not long after the Bonaretti family moved in, Mrs. Lee approached Ebe Bonaretti while she accompanied her two younger children to Botany Public School; the eldest was then attending high school. The caution Mrs. Lee gave Mamma Bonaretti is still remembered today by one of the children: Keep your children away from Mr. Archdeacon! Was it because Mr. Archdeacon had been charged, but subsequently acquitted, of indecently assaulting a 14-year-old girl in Botany between June and November 1949? Could it be that the girl was acquainted with or related to Mr. and Mrs. Lee? Or was it out of general concern for the young migrant family’s children? Whatever the reason, it was very obvious that Mrs. Lee was not fond of Mr. Archdeacon—in fact, hatred permeated her words of warning.

The last house on the street, number 38, was old and decrepit and occupied by someone the children never got to know. Mysteriously, the house would burn down some 10 years later after it had been unoccupied for some time. Rumour had it that it had become unlivable and, because it could not be demolished and replaced with a new house, it had mysteriously caught fire. It was only in that situation that any house in this light-industrial area could be rebuilt. Hmmm…
The Marrs
A few years after the Bonaretti family moved in, new residents arrived in the house directly opposite them, number 28. This house belonged to the large boot and shoe manufacturer, Enoch Taylor & Co. Pty. Ltd. and was used by the company’s new caretaker, Mr. Marr. With the red-headed Mr. Marr came his mother, Mrs. Marr, an elderly widow from Scotland, and his two boys, David—about 17, and Johnny who was a year or so older than the older Bonaretti girl. She and Johnny would play cowboys and wander through the wild canyons formed by closely spaced buildings, firing their cap pistols at imaginary Indians. They even stole a ciggie once and smoked it, much to her disgust. Of course, Mamma found out and gently chided the girl about smoking at such a young age. Whether it was the embarrassment of being found out or heeding good advice, she never did take up the habit.

The halcyon days of the late 1950s and early ‘60s were so different from those that were to follow. Then, the postman came twice a day Monday to Friday and once on Saturday morning. Milk was delivered in glass, silver-topped bottles to the doorstep as was bread. Bread was wrapped in waxed paper, which was reused to wrap school lunches. On the weekends, a little van ventured down the street playing an amplified tune letting the resident children know that ice creams and chocolates were on board and ready to be purchased. These were weekend treats for the three children, perhaps to ameliorate the absence of same-aged chums.
​
Those were the early years at 19-21 Byrnes Street, Botany.