Boarding houses were common in many New Zealand towns and cities after the war.
They varied in size, comfort and living standards. Some were run down and more like the old doss houses, while others provided safe and warm accommodation.
They housed mostly men, some of whom, for variousreasons, had fallen on hard times. Alcohol and gambling problems were common. But there was a large population of men who just needed a place to put their head down.
I lived in a boarding house for 18 months in Wellington. It was a big rambling villa in what is now a sought-after area, a short walking distance from the city.
It was well-run by an Irish woman, a trained chef.
I helped out at breakfast and dinner, serving the meals, clearing the tables and doing the dishes. There were eight residents, all men. For my part, I got a small furnished bedroom, lodgings and free board. After I did my morning stint, I went off to my office job on The Terrace.
At weekends I worked in a dairy in Aro Valley. I was saving hard to go overseas.
I remember all the bedrooms were small, neat and clean and they were always occupied. Two bathrooms were shared between the eight residents.
A few may have gone to work but the majority were older men who rarely left the confines of the boarding house. They never sat in the sunny sitting room, preferring I guess the isolation and peace and quiet of their own rooms.
I thought it was a lonely existence.
One day a resident went out and never came back. The landlady waited a few days and made some inquiries. She informed the police who said they would look into his disappearance. They never came to look at or search his room. Nobody got in touch so after 10 days we cleared the room, packed his belongings into his two suitcases and put them in the box room.
He had served in the British Army during World War II.
The landlady showed the kindness and understanding to the men that I often see today in people who work with those less fortunate than themselves. I think she understood hard times and had compassion for those lonely souls.
Her meals went down a treat. Always meat for dinner; hearty stews, casseroles and roasts and always with three vegetables.
For dessert, either rice pudding, bread and butter pudding, apple crumble, and my favourite, lemon meringue pie. I had my small wedding breakfast in that boarding house in 1968 to the delight of the residents.
There are still boarding houses today but we tend to more often house those who are struggling, vulnerable and needing a roof over their heads in motels these days. Their circumstances may be different but the need for safe, warm accommodation remains a significant issue for New Zealand men of all ages.
The motel units they live in are self-contained, with everyone looking after themselves as best they can, with the occasional visit from a social service provider if they’re lucky.
Security guards are usually posted at the front entrance.
Then there are places like Loafers Lodge in Wellington. There’ll be a flurry of activity now resulting from the devastating fire last month. Sadly five of the residents lost their lives.
There’s always a well-intentioned reactive response after a tragedy like Loafers Lodge but actions, if any, usually peter out after a few months. That’s because we don’t care enough to keep the pressure on, to insist that we want to see something being done to prevent anything like this from happening again.
When you herd 100 people, many with complex needs, into a high-rise building, no matter how well-supervised, I think something was bound to happen. My friend who works daily with homeless men says the majority will invariably have mental health and addiction problems.
Careful consideration must be given not only to housing but to the whole wellbeing needs of the individual.
Attempting to deal with one while neglecting to consider the total needs package will not achieve real and lasting benefits. I’m amazed we haven’t seen more tragedies like Loafers Lodge.
I think they’ve been avoided more by good luck than by design.
Merepeka Raukawa-Tait has worked in the private, public and nonprofit sectors. Today she writes, broadcasts and is a regular social issues commentator on TV. Of Te Arawa, Raukawa-Tait believes fearless advocacy for equity and equality has the potential to change lives.