Office at the centre of the world
In 1966, the Dominion building in central Wellington was the place to be, writes Tina White.
Early afternoon, one autumn day in 1966. Scene: the cafeteria on the fifth floor of the Dominion building in Mercer St.
There was no-one around except a young reporter from The Dominion newspaper, his wife – a fellow journalist who worked on the women’s page with ‘‘lady editor’’ Olga Juriss – and the pleasant Englishwoman who ran the tea/coffee counter.
The reporter’s wife was telling a joke she’d heard from a bachelor, old-time journo. ‘‘He used to walk from his flat every morning to the butcher’s shop, where he’d buy just one sausage to go with his breakfast. One day he felt a bit hungrier than usual, so he asked for two sausages. The butcher, deadpan, inquired: ‘Entertaining?’ ’’
Just then, recalls the reporter: ‘‘I heard a ringing noise like a bell and, when I looked for it, realised it was a fire extinguisher, hanging from the wall. It was vibrating. ‘‘Suddenly, the earthquake hit with a wrenching, sideways force and [everything] shook vigorously for several seconds.’’
Linotype machines could be heard sliding about on the floor above. In the days before computers, these were used for typesetting. They were part typewriter and part metal foundry, and weighed 11⁄2-tons.
‘‘The Englishwoman began to scream, and my wife went to help calm her down, which included a cup of the cafeteria tea.
‘‘When the shaking stopped, I went back to the reporters’ room and was assigned to go out with a photographer and check downtown buildings for earthquake damage.
‘‘From memory, the earthquake measured 5.1 or 5.2 on the Richter scale. It was fairly shallow and violent, and prompted a survey of how the city’s buildings ranked against earthquake safety standards. Incidentally, I can’t remember seeing the English tea lady again.’’
That was one of several memorable moments in 1966, centring around the venerable, old Dominion building.
On June 30, a major American celebrity walked through the revolving door at its entrance. This was Charlton Heston, still worldfamous as Moses from The Ten Commandments, the blockbuster Cecil B DeMille movie of 10 years earlier. At 42, the star (real name John Carter – his stage name was a combination of his mother’s and stepfather’s surnames) was lean and fit.
He was in Wellington for two reasons: as a goodwill ambassador for the United States’ State Department, and for a public doubles tennis match for charity. He was paired with John Souter to play Peter Snell and Robert Clarke in Civic Square.
The occasion drew thousands of spectators, who crammed the streets around the Dominion building, where Heston had stopped for a break and to change for the match.
He travelled back down to the street in the building’s lift, along with a few speechless, starstruck fellow passengers. As he stepped out to face the crowd, someone called out: ‘‘Good luck, Moses!’’
Heston and Souter won the first set 8-6, Snell and Clarke the second 8-7. The match raised $1500 for what was then the Intellectually Handicapped Children’s Society (now IHC New Zealand).
The next big-name American visitor to the capital was Lyndon B Johnson, the first American president to visit New Zealand.
In 1963, the Texan rancher had stepped into assassinated John Kennedy’s shoes to become the 36th president; his catchy ‘‘all the way with LBJ’’ slogan was still familiar to New Zealanders. It was a short visit for Johnson and wife Claudia ‘‘Lady Bird’’ Johnson – just 24 hours – but one packed with engagements.
The couple touched down at the air force’s O¯ hakea base on October 19, and soon after arrived in Wellington to a welcoming crowd of 200,000 people. Johnson kept shaking outstretched hands, bringing anxious looks from his security team.
Their next stop was at Parliament for a formal lunch; Vietnam protesters didn’t get a look-in, as more cheering crowds milled about outside.
Later, a press photo from the time shows Johnson, speaking into a flex-trailing, hand-held microphone to masses of people jammed onto steps and balconies at Buckle St’s National War Memorial.
It was soon to be the start of a new era for both Wellington and Washington; but at that moment in 1966, for the journalists and photographers who worked from the old Dominion building, it was just another day at the office.