- After years of driving past the toy shop, at 77 years old Phil Hodgson signed up as a volunteer toy maker.
- In addition to restoring old broken toys and building new ones, Phil found his passion for creating doll houses.
- Now 102 years old Phil is sharing his tricks of the trad with the next generation of toy makers.
Here Phil tells his story in his own words
Driving past the toy shop on my way to work, I smiled.
When I retire someday, I’ll work there, I thought.
Growing up, I would hover over my dad John’s shoulder as he crafted little toy cars out of tin.
Bringing me endless hours of joy, I’d play with them every chance I got.
‘It’s handmade with love.’
Learning a few tricks from the sidelines, I was inspired to pick up the tools.
When my little sister Joan was born in 1928, I crafted her a little toy boat out of wood.
While it was a bit rough around the edges, at age eight, I was extremely proud of my first creation.
‘It’s handmade with love,’ I said, placing it on the windowsill above her cot.
Leaving school at 14, I tried my hand at being a motor mechanic.
Pumping petrol by hand, I also topped up the oil and put air in tyres for customers, before the company went bankrupt a few months later.
‘There’s no future there for you, boy,’ Dad said.
Instead, he encouraged me to apply for an apprenticeship with his barber.
‘There’s no future there for you, boy.’
Taking the job, I started off sweeping the shop floor before learning the tools of the trade.
While it kept me busy, I was always thinking of my next wooden creation, crafting them at night.
Joining the Royal Australian Air Force in 1939, I spent days training for combat, and nights making dentures for the soldiers.
Toothbrushing hadn’t yet become a regular part of everyday life, and many enlisted men already had dentures.
But the clenching of their teeth during shelling often caused the dentures to need repairs.
I was moved all over Australia for training, before eventually being based in Townsville, Qld for the rest of World War II.
While awaiting each new deployment, we were given free time over the weekend to explore.
While in Sydney, I attended a dance and met the love of my life, Nancy.
She was beautiful, had a heart of gold and lit up every room she walked into.
She also fed me well and made sure I ate all my vegies!
Feeling like the luckiest man alive, just one year later, I asked Nancy to marry me.
Saving up our coupons, we managed to have enough rations to buy three metres of fabric to make Nancy’s wedding dress.
Taking four days leave during World War II, I was married to my love in a big church in Burwood, NSW, and had a reception at home.
And in 1943, we welcomed our son, Ken.
Back at the army base, I kept busy, and made toys in the workshop for Ken.
Crafting a toddler-sized scooter out of wood, I finished it with a coat of paint before wrapping it in newspaper and posting it.
Tearing back the paper on his second birthday, my boy was over the moon with his handmade gift and rode it all around the living room.
Unfortunately, the paint hadn’t dried properly, so there were bits of newspaper stuck all over it, but Ken loved it just the same.
In line to go to Port Moresby, we received the life-changing news that the war had come to an end, and we were being discharged.
Returning home to my family, I spent every spare minute catching up on lost time with Ken.
We even built his first family home together from plans Nancy had drawn.
Ken went on to welcome two sons of his own, Jeoffrey in 1969, and Neil in 1967, and we built their family homes and furniture, too.
Retiring at 62, I relocated to Bundeena, NSW, with Nancy, where we built our home and I volunteered in the local fire brigade.
But I wanted to do more with my passion.
‘You’re not allowed to retire.’
So after 15 years in retirement, in November 1997, I walked into the Sutherland Shire Toy Restoration Centre and signed up as a volunteer toy maker.
Selecting a piece of plywood, I let my hands work their magic.
In addition to restoring old and broken toys and building new ones, I realised my love of creating doll’s houses.
I’d even fit them out with wooden furnishings, including little tables, chairs, wardrobes, and tiny coat hangers.
Turning out house after house, I felt like an elf in Santa’s workshop! And they were all made with love.
Before I knew it, I was celebrating 25 years in the toy workshop.
While I lost my beautiful Nancy five years ago, aged 98, I’m thankful for the life we had together.
Celebrating my 102nd birthday in April 2022, I baked Nancy’s famous fruit cake, trying my best to follow her recipe.
I only wish I’d taken better notice of her handiwork, to stop the icing from running off the edges.
But I knew she’d be proud.
Other than being hard of hearing and having a bung knee, I’m fit as a fiddle.
But I’m almost ready to put down the tools, so I’m teaching my apprentice, Tammy, the ropes.
‘You’re not allowed to retire without finding your replacement,’ my toyshop boss, Wendy, jokes.
It’s true what they say – life really does fly when you’re having fun!
