Brick by brick

In the early 1880s, Peter and Matilda Waite decided their expansive Urrbrae Estate, now the University of Adelaide’s Waite campus, deserved a more formal entrée. They ordered the construction of Urrbrae Gatehouse, which for its early life was used as the home of the estate’s Head Gardener and their family, giving it its secondary title: The Lodge.

Memories of those who lived in the Gatehouse linger in the community, with Curator of the Waite Arboretum, Dr Kate Delaporte, familiar with stories from people who remember it as a student residence. “You talk to people, ‘Oh, my grandpa lived in that house when he went to Urrbrae High School’,” she says.

Well into the Gatehouse’s second century standing on the Waite property, a threat to its existence emerged. In 2019, the state government announced a series of intersection upgrades across metropolitan Adelaide, which included a widening of the intersection at Fullarton and Cross roads. The news was reported innocuously at first, but soon local residents began to realise this would likely impact the Waite campus.

“My first thought was ‘Oh my goodness, what is going to be left at that corner?’” says Joanna Wells, one such resident. Joanna had already seen significant canopy loss in her Netherby neighbourhood, where she says she could once look out the back porch and see only trees. “Now I walk out to the back porch, and there’s this hole where trees used to be, which is just roofs, basically,” she says. This new loss, she was not willing to bear.

Joanna spoke about her fears with a friend, and the two decided to make a banner decrying the destruction of trees for the sake of widening a road. They stood at the intersection and bandied their sign, hoping to gain attention. “People were winding their windows down saying, ‘Hey, what’s this about?’” she recalls. “When we told them, there was a lot of shock-horror about the trees, but the thing that got everyone going was the Gatehouse.”

Enquiries from punters through rolled-down windows evolved into calls from local media – newspapers, TV and radio – and public discussion ensued. Many said the loss of the Gatehouse would be a travesty, yes, but to whip up fear was unwarranted, as it was protected by State Heritage.

This turned out not to be the case.

In his capacity as Commissioner of Highways, Stephan Knoll had the power to “acquire by agreement or compulsory process any land, or interest in land, for the purposes of present or future roadwork”. He said this in a letter to the Federal Member for Boothby at the time, Nicolle Flint, while also promising to “deliver the best outcome for the project and community”. The implied power to overcome heritage stoked the fire already roaring in Joanna’s belly.

Joanna turned her stakeout on the intersection into a bona fide campaign. She held rallies – the largest of which attracted more than 1000 people – and collected signatures in person and via change.org.

The comments alongside the signatures were emphatic:

“Insane. This is heritage listed, and the trees provide habitat and shade.”

“This plan by DPTI (Department of Planning, Transport and Infrastructure) is totally inappropriate. We must retain the trees and the Lodge.”

“The lodge is a high point of taking children home up the freeway. We are getting home the trees are part of our history. We need those lungs.”

“We can’t keep losing these Historic Buildings.”

“I don’t want to see more trees removed or see a heritage building demolished.”

“I’m signing because it’s the only way to contribute without getting angry!”

An amenable solution was found – though a widening of the road went ahead, and some trees were lost. To Kate, this is still a source of disappointment. “We lost six or eight big ones, and then there was probably half a dozen, maybe up to 10 smaller ones,” she says. “And they did replace them with trees, sure. But what people seem to forget is you can’t replace a 100-year-old tree with one single tree that’s two years old. It’s not a replacement, because you need 100 years to grow it.”

A silver lining, though, is the retention of the Gatehouse, which is being moved, brick by brick, and its non-heritage extension upgraded. When the rebuild is completed sometime this year, the Gatehouse will be a volunteer centre and the home of the Waite Arboretum – something Kate has long hoped might one day exist.

“It’s giving the Arboretum a lab, because we talk about the Arboretum as the living lab, but there’s no building,” Kate says. “It’s a much clearer, higher profile building to bring people to, and where we can make the community much more aware of the Arboretum as a scientific endeavour, rather than just a big park with trees.”

This is a future for the Gatehouse made material by the community that surrounds the Waite campus – one which understands the importance of not only protecting the gift, but honouring its spirit.

“Peter Waite could’ve done anything with that land, and we’re really fortunate that he thought it was important enough to leave it as a whole parcel, because the value that’s come from the Arboretum alone is just significant,” Joanna says. “That is a heritage piece in itself. A lot of it is about amenity, but it’s about appreciating the past, and it gives us that appreciation of what Peter Waite actually did. I mean, the generosity of that is just amazing.”

Written by Johnny Von Einem