100yo June Baker’s secret to happiness

SA woman June Baker is turning 100 – and sharing her tips for a life well lived. Find out what they are.

June Baker turns 100 this month. Picture: Dean Martin

June Baker has lived both an ordinary and extraordinary life.

All going well, she’ll turn 100 next Wednesday, a magnificent milestone

for a little girl who grew up with a dream of being a film star.

In her early years, that dream, shaped by Saturday night visits to

Adelaide’s grand cinemas, almost brought her unstuck.

“One Saturday night I was bathed and put into my dressing gown and

then Mum and Dad got ready and when they looked around, I’d

disappeared,” June says.

June as a baby in about 1926. Picture: Supplied

June Baker dressed for a performance as a child. Picture: Supplied

“There was a great hue and cry and eventually I was found in the picture

theatre which was about 2 doors away at Glenelg.

“I must have been tiny, I was probably about 3 years old, just sitting up

quietly, ready for the pictures.”

I thought twice about dedicating a piece to one of South Australia’s latest

centenarians, knowing they’re not as rare as they used to be.

Back in 1983, less than 200 Australians turned 100.

Last year, more than 6000 Australians made it there and by 2050, we’re

expected to have at least 50,000 ton-makers.

June wasn’t overly keen to trumpet her birthday, insisting “100 is the new

80” but she’s a precious and inspiring South Australian with stories to

tell.

The mother of three, grandmother of 5, great grandmother of 10 and

great great grandmother of 1, still lives independently, just north of the

city.

Her eyesight and hearing aren’t as good as they used to be, but her

memory is razor sharp.

She’s lived through 3 Coronations, the Great Depression, World War 2

and the pandemic.

Her earliest memories are from the home she was born in on Shierlaw

Street, Richmond.

June, second from left, with her monther Muriel, sister Barbara, and father Ernst in about 1930. Picture: Supplied

“There was a dairy at the end of our street, and I remember going up

hand-in-hand with my grandfather to get the milk with a billycan,” June

says.

The daughter of Ernst Ruge and Muriel Julia Marguerette Novak, June

loved theatre, inspired by Fred Astaire, along with musical comedies like

Maid of the Mountains.

“My first appearance was at 2 and a half. Dad made the big water lily

costume and all I can remember is the lights shining on me and

someone telling me from the wings what to do,” June says.

“I was always moving to music.”

When the family bought a block at Hawthorndene, new memories were

made.

“My father and grandfather built our house out of asbestos sheets,” June

says.

“My sister and I played with the offcuts, we made cubbies and

dollhouses from them.

“While he was building the house he bought a second-hand garage, and

we lived in that. We put up a tent inside, I remember cuddling up to my

mother on a cold day, but we were happy.

“It was the most beautiful place, mostly the hawthorns, they grew wild

everywhere especially along the creeks, I’ll never forget the smell, the

perfume of those white hawthorns.”

June Baker and her sister Barbara. Picture: Supplied

June Baker as a teenager in Rundle Street. Picture: Supplied

June and her sister Barbara walked several kilometres to school.

“A little bit along the creek these hawthorns were like enclosed rooms,

they were really thick,” she says.

“When I was older, I realised it was a hidden Two Up school which was

illegal. I didn’t know, I just trotted past with my little case.”

Radio was a big part of June’s life. She recalls sitting at the kitchen table

listening to her father, a state champion mouth organ player, performing

live on 5CL, on a “cat’s whisker” radio.

Then came the crash in 1929.

“Dad was a tailor and when the depression started to hit, that was one of

the first things to go,” she says.

“I do remember the policeman coming to our house which was a big

thing, and I presume he was checking up on everyone.

“We never had to get the rations because we lived off that block of land

– we even had white rabbits, I remember them with their pink eyes, you

couldn’t be squeamish.”

Adelaide’s first Christmas pageant in 1933 is forever etched in her mind.

Her father had seen skywriting planes announce it, a gift from Sir

Edward Heyward to lift the spirits of South Australians.

“Dad, having been a tailor, knew whoever had the Southern Cross Hotel

on King William Street,” June says.

“We were allowed to go out on the balcony and watch the pageant and

I’d never seen anything so exciting and beautiful.

“I just loved that pageant and I’ve loved Christmas ever since.”

June Baker. Picture: Supplied

June Baker playing golf. Picture: Supplied

June has always admired the Royal Family. When George V died in

1936, she sewed a black mourning dress for her doll.

She attended Unley High School where her lifelong love affair with

Shakespeare began.

She was 14 when World War 2 broke out.

“At first it was a long way away but by 1941 I was doing my Leaving

Honours German exam and the announcement of Japan attacking Pearl

Harbour came over the radio, then it felt close to home,” June says.

“I think you were silly if you weren’t frightened, in 1942 especially, the

Japanese just kept coming and coming and coming.”

After graduating in 1940, June attended Teachers College in Kintore

Ave.

As a young woman, she danced and sang at the Tivoli, now Her

Majesty’s Theatre, raising money for the Red Cross.

With stockings rationed at four coupons per pair, she had to get creative.

“We’d be lined up in the corridor with bowls of red cement dye – the stuff

used to colour concrete – and we’d smear it on our legs,” June says.

“Then we’d draw a seam up the back with eyebrow pencil to make it look

like stockings. Of course, you’d have to go home and wash it all off.

“They were wonderful days. We did Nelly Kelly which was great fun and

Tropical Trouble, written by Ken Chinner who was the musical director at

5DN.”

The Cheer-Up Hut stood where the Festival Centre is now.

“There were always servicemen in transit who’d be in a strange city with

nowhere to go, the Cheer-Up Hut was for them,” June says.

“There was food, there were papers to write letters home, and of an

evening there was dancing.

“It was a great feeling of ‘all in this together’.

“I felt the same way when Covid hit, that just felt like wartime to me.”

She recalls the emotion of D-Day on June 6, 1944.

“I remember the screaming headlines. I walked to the train station on

wings – at last, at last. We’d been waiting for that moment for so long.”

And the final newsreel footage she ever saw of Hitler.

“If you’ve ever seen a broken man, that was him. His eyes were so

haunted.”

June says her life “really began” when she met her late husband Bill, a

farmer at Warooka on Yorke Peninsula.

June on her wedding day in 1950. Picture: Supplied

June said her life “really began” after she met her husband Bill. Picture: Supplied

Bill had served in the Airforce in England and North Africa.

The pair spent 60 years in the community, volunteering for the local

Council, hospital, school, national parks, Rural Youth and Civil Defence.

They raised 3 daughters, Carlene, Penny and Stephanie.

“I did have a boy, James, but he died at 5 weeks,” June says.

“My only regret in life was that I couldn’t give my husband the son he

wanted, it was never to be.”

Bill passed away, 15 years ago.

“When he died, they put his farming hat at one end of his coffin and his

Airforce hat at the other,” June says.

June has just one piece of advice from a life well lived.

“Treat everyone as you want to be treated and try to keep a smile on

your face,” she says.

Almost every week, she travels to Rundle Mall for a cuppa. Next week,

to mark her 100 years, she plans to walk the full length of the Mall, with

a bunch of balloons tied to her walker.

If you see her, give her a wave and a smile. She’ll be smiling back.

Originally published as 100yo June Baker’s secret to happiness