By Virginia Winder

Every Friday morning over a cuppa and cakes, the Friends of the Opunake Library make a wee toast to Charlie Yep.

"We always say, 'this is for Charlie'," says long-time resident Molly Harvey (88).

The library is built on the site of the former Wai Yep & Co General Store, on the corner of Tasman and Havelock streets.

Opunake Library: Yep's Corner is remembered by a plaque on the wall of the library, beside the TSB Bank.

The store was closed in 1977, when Harry Yep sold up. He and wife Ruby later moved to Auckland to be near their adult children. But Charlie stayed on in Opunake, fixing radios and hoping the empty store could be used as a community centre, Molly says.

"He opened it up so people could come in off the street for a cup of tea," she says. "He was very reluctant to sell that building."

Bikers and Lions share work

But Charlie did let it go and in 1986 the building, fondly called Yep's Corner, was pulled down. Local bikers, the Coastal Riders worked alongside the Opunake Lions Club to demolish the store.

Joint Demolition: The Coastal Riders and Opunake Lions Club worked together to pull down the Yep store in December 1986.

In its place, the town got a new TSB Bank, and a community library. On the wall to the right of the library's front doors is a plaque remembering the Yep family.

Inside the library there is a framed 1932 calendar, featuring a beautiful Chinese woman watching a parrot on a perch and a young boy reading books.

The complimentary calendar lists Wai Yep & Co general stores in Opunake, Rahotu and Kaponga. The phone number given is simply 23.

From about 1903 until 1977 the store was the heart of the coastal Taranaki town.

Sifting through history

Puke Ariki researcher Ron Lambert was able to sift through the remnants of the once-thriving store.

"There was an incredible amount of stuff lying around the place, as I remember it," says Ron, who at the time was director of the Taranaki Museum.

"We were called in because someone thought there could be some interesting historical material there."

And there was.

"We had a bit of a look around and saw there was certainly some manuscript material and general commercial papers and a lot of them were in Chinese. If I remember rightly, it was only the first generations of the family who maintained the account books in Chinese," Ron says.

Also among the rubble were posters for fireworks, a few simple pairs of Chinese trousers and long tops. "There wasn't quite as much Chinese-oriented material as I had hoped."

But there were some Kiwi classics. "We got a huge pile of unopened Edmonds Baking Powder tins, which we still have in our collection."

Into everything

Remnants from the store's busy past also pointed to a few varied sidelines - radio repairs and dry-cleaning.

"There was a number of items there that looked like dry-cleaning, but had never been picked up - for whatever reason," Ron says.

"There was a feeling that these guys were into everything, but there was very little real stuff left."

On the social front, the Yep family was highly regarded.

"They were obviously an integral part of the community and considered as such, which was quite an unusual occurrence in New Zealand because in other parts they (Chinese) were ostracised," Ron says.

Charles Short (78) says the shop was a meeting place on Saturday nights. "You wandered up and got the sports paper about 8pm and got home about 10 o'clock. You'd always go to the Yeps for a chat, for a yarn. They were always there and always open."

Knock, knock on Sunday

Even on a Sunday, the people of Opunake could buy goods.

"You could creep around the back door and get what you wanted. It was dim and dark and packed with stuff," says Charles.

The store itself was cluttered with goods, from floor to loft. Using ladders, members of the Yep family would look high and low for requested items and nearly always find them.

Charles says it was also the place to go for knowledge. "If I had a problem with my homework, you used to go up to the Yeps. They had the encyclopaedias. They always had the information."

Class of '38: In the back row, Willie (fourth from right) and Harry (next to him) pose with their form 1 & 2 classmates from Opunake School.

Poring over an old school photograph taken about 1937, Charles points out Willie and Harry in the back row of the Standard 5 and 6 class (Form 1 and 2). "That was the year they came back to Opunake. It was quite a big day that they arrived from overseas and started school here with us."

NZ-born Chinese

All the seven Yep children were born in Taranaki.

However, John (or Johnny), Alice, Charlie, Lily, Rita, Willie and Harry all went to Hong Kong in 1927 to be given a Chinese education. They came back in dribs and drabs after the death of their father, Jack Yep.

He suffered a stroke in Opunake and, while ill, went back to Hong Kong where he died in 1932. The young ones returned to Opunake in 1937, the year the school photo was snapped.

Charles Short says the Yep children took part in town activities. "They joined in everything - that's why they were so popular."

Good sports

He says John, the older brother, was a keen member of the Opunake Surf Life Saving Club; while Charlie, Harry, Willie and Rita all played table tennis.

The boys and Charles would play for hours - day and night - on a table set up in an empty shop down the street from the Yep store.

"Willie was a champion of course - he played exhibition games with visiting players."

Willie and Charles finished their education on the same day. "We were sick of high school and were ready to pull out and both Willie and I went to the headmaster's residence - it must've been about 6o'clock at night - and told him that we were pulling out of high school. We sat on the back verandah and talked for ages. He was probably trying to convince us to stay on."

It didn't work. "We went up the next day and picked up our books."

Charles eventually worked at the Opunake Electric Power Board, while Harry and Willie went into the store.

Warmth and generosity

Hector Otene has clear memories of the Yep store, especially those who worked in it. "They were quite reserved, but they had that friendly look on their faces - they were pleased to see you. You could see the warmth; they welcomed you with open arms.

"What I think - it's all heart. My father always said 'you find a person as you find yourself'."

All of the Yeps were giving people. However, he singles out Johnny, who was head of the grocery department. "He would never allow you to leave without giving you something. He was a great friend of my dad's. They used to go out fishing."

Harry and Willie played tennis, while Charlie had a radio shop. The younger boys began working at the shop, but Willie left to start up his own sports store in Hawera, while Harry stayed on until the end.

Only Harry is still alive.

One of his best mates is Ron Roach, now a retired farmer.

The 76-year-old says the Yeps fitted in with the community. "The whole of Opunake were their friends. They were a wonderful family. There was no division in regards to their race and culture or anything else with the European society they were living in.

"In their own home they kept their own language going - spoke Chinese."

He chuckles when thinking of his old mate: "Harry was a great one to tell people 'I'm friendly, but there's no such thing as friends in a shop'. In other words, 'don't come to me for perks'. He had friends outside the shop. Harry was very good at sport. He and I used to play a lot of table tennis and tennis together.

"They were a very, very friendly family. Opunake was worse off for their leaving - but that's the way it goes," Ron says.

"Charlie was the last one to live here," says Molly Harvey.

She talks about his bent for fixing radios and how he did his exams by correspondence. "And mostly got 100%."

Just one of the boys

With clarity, she explains the layout of the Yep store. "One side was groceries and they would deliver anywhere in town."

On the other side of the building was a fruit shop and confectionary counter. "Attached to that was another little shop - that was Charlie's radio shop," Molly says.

Molly also recalls the oldest Yep sibling. "John was just one of the boys around here. There were no other Chinese people here... they decided this is their life and they would be local people. They made a decision not to stand apart."

But there were cultural differences. "Even though he (John) was well into the western ways, a bride (Rose) was brought out from China for him," she says. "But she found it very difficult - she could speak very little English."

They had an adopted daughter called Shona, who came out from Hong Kong in the 1960s.

Mrs Yep, the matriarch of the family, is also a clear figure in Molly's mind. "She had had bound feet. She was a little lady; I remember her shuffling along."

It appears that she never had an English name, apart from Mrs Yep. Before she was married, her Chinese name was Wong Yee-foon.

"I remember when she died," Molly says. "A lot of people went to the funeral and everyone was given a penny. It was a tradition; it was a luck thing."

Sitting in the gutter

Kate Mickelson (92) can cast back more than 80 years to when she was a young girl.

"I can remember as a child coming into town with my parents by horse and gig."

While her parents shopped, Kate can remember sitting outside with Johnny and Alice, their feet in the gutter of the unpaved street. "That was one of the highlights of coming to town. I did used to love getting together with these other kids - we just sat and talked."

When they were older, the family arranged for Johnny to have a wife from China. "By then he was westernized, and he said, 'What if I don't like it?'"

The marriage was a lasting one.

Meanwhile, Kate dispels any inklings of a link between her and Johnny. "I don't think I was a very romantic animal," she says.

"I never dreamt of marriage - I had too many other things to do. We played tennis, went out to all the dances; did a lot of things in groups."

While many people remember the Yep siblings taking part in town activities, Kate believes they were fairly quiet on the social front. "They didn't mix outside it (the shop)."

A potent present

The shop itself had a bare wooden floor and enticing treasures. "I can always remember they had a glass counter all in little divisions for lollies. Of course they had kitchenware, crockery glasses, all sorts of things."

Some items from the Yeps weren't sold in the shop. "I remember that Johnny once gave my husband John a bottle of Chinese whisky, which was terrible stuff. It was very strong. I remember my husband saying 'it would burn a hole right through you'."

Kate also chastises herself for losing ivory chopsticks given to her by Johnny, an outgoing, friendly man.

"They were a well-loved family," she says.

Chinese cherubs

Jean Dobbin (84) says she grew up with the Yeps, although her grandmother, Mary Emma Wallis, had the closest association with them.

"My grandparents lived here from the late 1880s and my grandmother was a midwife from the 1890s. Of course she was the midwife for Mrs Yep and all her babies. She called them her Chinese cherubs."

In recognition of Mary Wallis' service, members of the midwife's extended family were given treats. "They always gave you a bag of something - they did for us."

But it was the old Chinese woman with tiny feet, who would always make the most fuss of Jean. "She used to totter around the shop and bring bananas out for us. She always recognised me - it didn't matter over all those years, even when I was older and had my own children."

Jean also remembers John, the eldest son, as being involved in many community activities. "He was a great sportsman, was John."

One of his specialties was cricket. "The Yep Cup is still presented annually to the captain of the Opunake High School 1st XI cricket team," Jean says.

Pocket money and pegs

The youngest of Jean's sons even worked for the Yeps after school.

So did Ian Smith (now 72), who delivered groceries during World War II.

"When I first went to work there, Harry said to me 'what peg do you want?'"

Ian replied that he didn't need a peg.

He changed his mind when Harry took the top off a big cooper's barrel filled with mutton birds. The smell was vile. "That's what the peg was for," says Ian, telling how each staff member had his or her own peg.

There were more pleasant discoveries to be made elsewhere in the store. "Harry and I had a cleanout one day and we found Chinese clothes that had never been unpacked. And toys. We found a big box of crackers (fireworks) once."

Anything salvageable was sold cheaply in the shop.

Helping folk in need

The Yeps also gave a lot away - a story told again and again by those who knew them. "If they thought you were a bit down on things, they would give stuff away," Ian says.

When fruit or vegetables got a bit old, they would be bagged up ready to be passed on to customers. "Rather than throw it away, if it was useful for someone they would just give it away. They made sure that anybody who needed it, got it."

Mrs Yep was particularly generous to her young worker when he was off duty. "She'd say 'got a penny Ian?'"

He would hand over the copper-alloy coin and the old woman would return with a big bag of lollies worth way more than one penny.

Going backwards uphill

On the job, Ian would deliver groceries to people's homes. "The pace of life was totally different back then. You would get on the phone and ring someone for a list."

Ian would write down the desired groceries, add it up and tell the person the price.

Then he would make up the delivery order. "There was no pre-packing; flour you bought in big bags. Rice, sugar, spuds - everything came in bulk."

The bags themselves were useful, with sugar sacks later being made into work aprons. The groceries were then stacked in the back of a green Model A Ford van.

Out on the road, Ian had to stop at the bottom of hills, turn the van around and back up the incline. This was because the van ran on a gravity-feed system. Simply put, if driven front first up a slope, the petrol would not feed the carburettor and the engine would conk out.

Ian says the petrol came from the Yeps' own bowsers, which were outside the shop. "I've poured many gallons of petrol from those pumps."

Heart and home

Yeps' Corner wasn't just a store - it was home. "For years and years, young and old used to live in the back of the shop in this very small space," Ian says.

Eventually, the family units got their own houses and Charlie had a wee bach out the back of the building.

Now all have gone.

There are no members of the Yep family living in Opunake and few signs of the once-thriving store. Just a plaque on a wall and memories rekindled each Friday morning over a cuppa. "This is for Charlie..."

And Jack, Yee-foon, John, Alice, Lily, Rita, Willie and Harry.

Opunake Treasures: Jack and Yee-foon Yep with three of their seven children in March 1917.