Myrtle

Hidden within the bustling city of Brisbane, lies a secret whispered among the rustling leaves of history. Have you heard of Myrtle, the university building with a past as rich and vibrant as the city itself? Myrtle isn’t just a place of learning. It echoes with the laughter of children and the murmur of a community long gone. Let me transport you back to a time when Myrtle wasn’t a university, but a thriving town known as Myrtletown. This area, in the suburb of Pinkenba, was named after a prominent grove of myrtle trees, sadly vanished by 1928. Before the name Myrtletown, this area was simply called Boggy Creek, after the creek that still flows nearby. Imagine a small town, nestled near the mouth of the Brisbane River, where families like the Chapmans, Allnutts, Wenzels, and Naumanns carved out a life from the land. They cultivated orchards, banana plantations, and vineyards heavy with Black Hamburg grapes. Their market gardens overflowed with tomatoes, beans, cabbages, and cauliflowers. The waters of Boggy Creek provided prawns and fish, adding to the bounty of this little Eden. Myrtletown was a self-sufficient community, a world away from the growing city just a short distance south. In 1924, the residents’ persistent pleas for a local school were finally answered. Myrtletown State School opened its doors, educating generations of children until its closure in 1971. You can almost picture the children playing in the schoolyard, their laughter echoing across the fields. The town even had its own Methodist church, a testament to the community’s strong spirit. But progress, like the relentless tide, eventually swept over Myrtletown. The construction of the Brisbane Airport on nearby Cribb Island irrevocably changed the landscape, prompting most residents to relocate. The once vibrant town became increasingly industrial, its agricultural heart replaced by the pulse of machinery and commerce. Today, Myrtle stands as a quiet tribute to a bygone era. It reminds us that even within the most modern of cities, echoes of the past still linger, waiting to be discovered. The next time you walk through Myrtle’s halls, remember the families who called this place home, the children who learned in its school, and the myrtle trees that gave the town its name. Their story, like the faint scent of myrtle on a summer breeze, continues to whisper through the corridors of time.