Over by the bar there’s a group of punks in studded denim jackets with inked arms and pierced faces.
Next to them an older woman is knitting.
“Well, it's a really nice atmosphere to just sit here and keep my fingers busy, and the music's terrific. It's rare these days for young and old to mix together,” she says.
“There were more places like this. But they're all gone,” adds one of the punks.
We’re at the Footscray Hotel in Melbourne’s inner west. It’s the kind of place where draft beer, not craft beer, is served in pint glasses, not mason jars.
All around the Hotel, apartment complexes are rising up. But owner, Brian Kramer, has no intention of cashing in his 10-year-lease. He has turned down offers from six developers in as many months.
He worries that if he goes, his tenants couldn’t afford to stay in the area and some of them might go back on the street.
“I take [the developers'] business cards and put them in the filing cabinet over here,” says Brian as he gestures to the bin behind the bar. Source: SBS
“I take their business cards and put them in the filing cabinet over here,” says Brian with a wink as he gestures to the bin behind the bar.
As one of Brian’s regulars puts it, “I think it's incredibly inspirational to have the balls to turn down that kind of money, and to have the balls to stand up to gentrification: 'cause no one really does. I don't think I could, we've all got a price. He's not just doing it for himself; he's doing it for the others around him. It's truly fucking awesome.”
He's not just doing it for himself; he's doing it for the others around him. It's truly fucking awesome.”
Yogi Flis is a local real estate agent. Over the past few years, he’s watched as the face of Footscray has morphed.
“Change is always good,” he says. “It brings value to the area.”
Franco Cozzo, a larger-than-life local personality, put his eponymous furniture store on the market last month. If he gets his asking price of $7.5 million, he’s happy for the site he’s owned since 1956 to be turned into apartments.
Footscray’s newest residents are younger, whiter and more likely to work in white-collar jobs.
"Grand sale! Grand sale! Grand sale!" spruiks Frank Cozzo, who's hoping his furniture store will sell for $7.5m. Source: SBS
Johnny doesn’t fit that description. He’s one of eight permanent residents at The Footscray Hotel.
“I made too many mistakes. I've had me chances in life: Salvation Army Boys Home, Bayswater Boys Home, and then to the capitol cells in Pentridge [Prison]. I had a heroin habit for probably 30 years. Haven't touched it for 20. How good's that?”
Johnny thanks his lucky stars for Brian’s hospitality, but Brian doesn’t let it get to his head.
“We had an old bloke living here who was basically an old drunk. Johnny used to go and hand-wash his trousers. You see someone like Johnny who has been in and out of trouble, hand-washing some other bloke's dirty old soiled pants and you think, well, yeah… everyone helps everybody.”
Lindsay works as a garbo by day, pulls beers at the pub by night and reckons he’s got it pretty good. Along with some of the other residents, he’s happy to work behind the bar for a discount on his rent.
“I had nowhere to go, so it meant a lot to me - a place to stay, a place to rest my head and focus on just getting myself right and, yeah, starting over again.”
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