Alfred Hansen var min mors farbror. Han havde
— som han selv skriver — lavet noget „halloj“ i
Slangerup og rejste derfor i 1924 til Australien,
23 år gammel.
En dag for noget tid siden kom min morbror Ove
forbi min mor og lånte hende nogle breve, som Alfred
havde sendt hjem til sin mor Helene, sin bror
Vilhelm og sin søster Marie.
Jeg begyndte at bladre dem igennem og blev straks
fascineret af det jeg læste. Jeg fik lyst til at forsøge
at renskrive og ordne brevene kronologisk og stykke
en del af Alfreds liv sammen...
skriver Britta Nielsen i bogens forord.

A recently discovered bundle of letters in a Danish farm house proved
to be fascinating reading.

The letters, now put in order and edited by his grand-niece Britta Nielsen, are from Alfred Hansen to his family back home, starting in 1924
when 23 years old, he had gotten himself into a bit of money trouble,
and found it best to disappear down under.

A journeyman baker, this is about the only kind of work
he didn’t undertake for longer and mostly shorter periods.
Starting as an ambassador’s chauffeur – without having
a driver’s licence – over day labourer to mining,
and loosing his money in South Island gold claims,
to finally in his sixties settling as chief engineer at a far away sawmill.

The letters, written with keen eyes and wit, quickly turn into “Danglish” , later all English, and are translated into Danish in the book.
They all end with the promise of visiting his homeland soon; something that sadly never happened. Alfred had many hard times as an immigrant, not lessened by his fondness of gambling sustained by quite a few drams.

In his last letters he warns his family against slot machines, and complains that in NSW you are now fined driving after just five drinks...

[Emil Dalhoff, may 2012]