Eileen Shapley

One hundred years of action woman Eileen Shapley

Words Jill Nicholas

Pictures/video Stephen Parker

Eileen Shapley was 22 when a lesion on her lung was discovered.  It was treated as tubercular.

At 80, a colonoscopy revealed a cancerous tumour. A section of her bowel was removed.

Action woman Eileen snubbed both potential death sentences. She still had a lot of living to do. 

Two decades on from that run in with cancer she’s a mere handful of months away from birthday Number 101.

If she were a boastful person, which she most definitely isn’t, Eileen would be entitled to brag that she doesn’t take any prescription medication.

She confesses to the occasional Panadol “to help get me going in the mornings. I’m a bit stiff then.”

Many half her age, even less, will be responding with a rueful “Who isn’t?”

If ever the letter ‘V’ is in search of a pin up girl Eileen Shapley must surely be a shoe-in. She’s vibrant, vivacious and brims with vim and vigour.

She’s lived independently in a retirement complex for the past 20 years, continues to drive, maintains her immaculate garden and keeps her brain live-wired and challenged with crosswords and quizzes. 

“I’m an avid fan of The Chase. My friends know not to to ring me after 5pm.”

Which explains why her phone rang pretty much non-stop during our chat. Her legion of friends were getting in before the Eileen-decreed cut off time. Her doorbell chimed frequently. 

She maintains it’s the stimulus of her “amazing family and wonderful friends” that’s been paramount in propelling her to the impressive number of years she’s tallied up.  

And her own contribution?   

“I come from humble, long-lived stock. My mother was 91 when she died. In those days that was really old. My father died in his 70s but he had a sibling who lived to 97.

“I keep my brain and body active.

“I’m blessed with good health so I continue to live a very busy life.”

It’s that busy life In Profile has been charged with dissecting as Eileen escorts us through the time tunnel that’s led to a century of memories created in the changing world she’s encountered. 

Early Rotorua connection

Rotorua has been her home for more than 70 years.

“I came here as a blushing bride.”

However Eileen’s connection to this place stretches back some  time before her birth.  

Her father Harry Hollet was a Londoner who immigrated to New Zealand in 1913. He settled in Rotorua.

“A gardener by trade he was employed by the Gillies family who had one of the first homes in Kawaha Point."

 He’d come to New Zealand as an engaged man. The plan was for his fiancee Laura Snooks to follow but the First World War scuppered that.

 He joined the New Zealand forces, fighting in France. At the end of hostilities the pair married in London, coming to New Zealand on board a troop ship in 1919.

“My mother wasn’t deliriously happy that the men were confined to one deck and the women to another.

“They met when they were working at a big Jewish mansion. It was a real ‘upstairs downstairs’ situation. Dad was a gardener, mum was a maid.” 

The couple found similar jobs in Auckland’s Remuera, living above their employer’s garage. 

Depression years, working life begins

Eileen was the third of their four children.

“We were a poor family. As kids we only had one story book between us. It was the depression but Dad had steady work and although his wage was only three pounds a week he managed to buy a section on the outskirts of Remuera and build a house there. That’s where I grew up.

“Like a lot of people my parents were scratching. If something didn’t grow in the garden we didn’t have it .

"For years we lived on one-egg cakes. Mum preserved eggs in a crock. When you put your hand in it was horrible and slimy.” 

At the end of Eileen’s second year at Epsom Girls’ Grammar her mother decreed it would boost the family’s finances if she trained for a career.

 She enrolled her daughter at Auckland Business College to learn shorthand, typing and office management. 

“I cried. I didn’t want to leave school. Although I wasn’t excelling greatly academically I loved sport. I played tennis and hockey rather feebly and swam in the pool.”

Her first job was typing “endless” envelopes for Pacific Forest’s company reports.

“Forestry was just developing in New Zealand. The company’s slogan was “plant trees and grow money”.

Next was an even more tedious job at a machinery company but the outbreak of the Second World War was to save Eileen’s workplace sanity.

“My sister Vera had a job in a legal office. The war was getting closer to New Zealand. She wanted to join the air force.”

Vera recommended Eileen as her replacement.

Pinky time short-lived

She enjoyed the work but when she saw an advertisement for nurse aids at Auckland Hospital she applied, becoming what was known as a pinky. “Because they wore pink uniforms.”

“I’d always had a yearning to be a nurse but I hated it. I had no idea what I was doing. I lasted six days.

“I happened to see my former boss driving past as I was walking over Grafton Bridge. He stopped. There was very little traffic in those days. I burst into tears.

“He said ‘Come back’ so I did and stayed two years.”

Despite her short-lived time as a pinky, nursing still had a magnetic pull for Eileen.

 In the immediate post war years Auckland Hospital launched a  recruitment drive. Eileen was a successful applicant.

“I arrived carrying my suitcase and a mop. We were instructed to bring one.

“I was met by a sour-faced home sister. As we got into the lift I  bumped her with the mop. She snarled at me to be careful and watch what I was doing.

“That was my entry into the discipline of nursing.”

Eileen rapidly learnt the mop’s purpose.

“In nursing training they had a fetish about dust under our beds.”

Confined to bed

 As her training progressed Eileen began to feel unwell.

“My joints swelled. There were red weals on my skin. I was X-rayed and a lung lesion was diagnosed. 

“It was never isolated as a tubercular infection but it was treated as if it was. I spent nine months on complete bed rest in Green Lane Hospital using bed pans, not having a shower. It was ridiculous.   

“I was with five other nurses on the hospital’s top floor. We became great friends.

“Our room overlooked Alexander Park. We watched all the trotting races. We’d run a betting book, put three pence into the kitty and share the winnings.” 

With so much time away from her training Eileen fell behind, graduating a year after most of her cohort.

When she did graduate she indicated her preference was for theatre work.

But when the rosters came out she had been allocated the babies’ ward.

“I was furious. In a fit of objection I left. On reflection I must say that was very foolish. I didn’t get the experience of a staff nurse.”

She went to work as a surgery nurse for leading ear, nose and throat specialist Tom Hardy-Neil. 

“I grabbed the opportunity to work 9am to 5pm, five days a week. I stayed three years.”

Bridesmaid duties leads to own wedding 

 Travelling to and from work on a tram she formed a close friendship with a fellow nurse, Mary Collins. She’d trained at Rotorua Hospital.

“She fell in love with a patient, Dick Shapley. When they were getting married Mary asked me to be her chief bridesmaid.

The best man was the groom’s brother, David. 

The next phase of Eileen’s life was about to launch.

“David would go to Rotorua at weekends to see his brother and sister-in-law. They suggested he bring me. 

“He had this lovely new green Morris Minor. It was very rare to have a new car then.

“We didn’t have an interest in each other immediately but I vividly remember seeing David hoeing Dick and Mary’s garden and thinking it meant a great deal to me that he was a garden lover.

“I think that was when we became more interested in each other. 

“There was no bended knee proposal. Actually I think it might have been me who suggested we get married. He thought it was a good idea.”  

 By then Eileen had begun her maternity training at Tauranga Hospital and David had an engineering job at Rotorua’s Waipa State Mill. 

Diamond ring

They took individual trips to Auckland, meeting at a Karangahape Road jewellers. 

“We were there to buy a diamond ring. David was five pounds short to pay for the one I chose. I lent him five pounds. I never got it back but I so loved that diamond ring.”

They married in Auckland in 1955.

We’re treated to a giggly confession that the first night of their honeymoon was spent in “in a single bed” at the Rotorua house David had bought. It was in what then was the wilderness of Otonga Road.

“It was really a pumice track. In summer it was a dust bowl, in winter it turned to mud.”

Eileen settled in to life as a non-working wife, par for the course for women of the era.

“We had a five hundred pound mortgage that David’s solicitor arranged with one of his clients.

“One of my tasks was to hop on my bike every Friday and ride to that man’s house in Hinemoa Street to make a repayment. 

“How ridiculous it seems compared with the sophistication of life today.”

Eileen was enjoying being, in her words, a “happy home maker”  when she was asked to be a receptionist at a practice Dr Ian McAlpine was opening at West End.

“I wasn’t advancing my career but the idea of having some money of my own appealed. I took the job, loved it, but I was longing to have a baby of our own. However nothing was happening.

Bribery brings baby 

“There was no IVF then. David and I went for tests which were pretty awful. We went on the waiting list for adoption. 

“The criteria were strict. We had to have a social welfare officer to dinner to check on our suitability.”  

Her chance to become a mum came by post. 

Eileen was helping out in Dr Tom Trott’s surgery when she opened a letter from a colleague of his asking him to care for an unmarried pregnant teenager coming to Rotorua to have her baby. It was to be adopted.

“He’d asked David and I to look after his house and children while he and his wife were away. We’d been uncertain but when I saw this letter I raced into his surgery, waving it and saying ‘We’ll look after your kids if I can have this baby.’ It was out-and-out bribery on my part.

“That’s how we got Anne, our first daughter.

“I was so excited I was going to be a mother. I made all the Plunket pattern gowns, we bought the best pram.

“David was a bit ho-hum but when we picked her up at eight days old he was besotted.” 

Fifteen months later the daughter they named Jillian joined the family.  

Roundabout return to nursing 

The girls were at Otonga Primary and Eileen on the PTA when Eileen had a roundabout return to nursing.

“The PTA was holding a forum to discuss ‘the lowering of moral standards today’ It was 1966.

“I was given the job of inviting the hospital matron Miss Rita Sullivan to be on the panel. 

“She said ‘oh Eileen, you’ve come for a job’ and handed me a form to fill in. She said I could work part time three mornings a week, have school holidays free and time off if the children were sick.” 

Eileen spent the next 10 years in the orthopaedic ward.  

When a new matron commanded all nurses work night shifts Eileen rebelled.

“I said to myself ‘This isn’t on’ and resigned. I spent the next two years as a busy gardener and looking after the girls.”

That changed when she heard Queen Elizabeth Hospital needed nurses.

“My itchy feet took me there. I loved QE after the pressure of the top hospital with its long theatre lists. The atmosphere was relaxed. It was old and falling to bits but it was wonderful. So were the staff.”

It was Eileen’s last paid job. 

She left to go on an overseas tour with her husband,  brother-in law and sister-in-law. 

Community volunteer

On her return she joined the Friends of QE and became heavily involved with the YWCA, fundraising to establish a hostel for out-of-town women working in Rotorua.
It comes as a surprise when the seemingly always confident woman who’s confronted and conquered challenges galore claims it was the ‘Y’ that taught her self confidence.

“We opened a ‘nearly-new’ shop, selling clothes on behalf. We called it Ys Buys. I became a buyer and day manager. The sellers got 40 per cent, the remainder went into the hostel fund.

“It was a tremendous success. The op shops hated us. 

“My wardrobe increased substantially. Mind you, I always paid the going price. I still wear a lot of those clothes.

“By the time the shop closed after 10 years we’d put $30,000 into the hostel’s coffers,”

Eileen had more time to herself but was far from idle.

She continued her involvement with the Baptist then Presbyterian churches.“I’ve done the flowers for both and sung in their choirs.”

A soprano, she was a long-time member of the district choir and still sings with the U3A Grey Warblers.    

“I used to belong to the Writing for Families group but after five years I ran out of things to say.”

Eileen Shapely all out of words? Impossible.

She joined Anne Moore’s YWCA cross country walking group. 

“We climbed Mt Tauhara, Rainbow Mountain, Ngongotaha, had huge fun.”

Cancer, tough old bird 

She and David were contemplating a smaller home when the news came that Eileen had bowel cancer.

“I said ‘I can’t have surgery, we’ve just put our house on the market’.”

Her protest fell on deaf ears.

“Jimmy Jardine [surgeon] got me into theatre pretty quickly. He had a lot of clout. I had a bowel re-section and was blessed to escape a colostomy bag and chemo. I’ve had no trouble since.

“I think you could say I’m  a tough old bird.”

Eileen’s been a widow since 2007. Coincidentally, it was cancer that claimed her husband’s life.

Inviting Eileen to name one of the major changes she’s witnessed  in her lengthy life span she typically comes up with several.

 “Rotorua now has sealed roads, not that horrible pumice.

“The railway line ran across Ranolf Street. There was a big plantation of gum trees by the station. Rotorua Central is there now."

Then there's the electronic era. It doesn’t find favour with one of our most senior citizens.

“At times I wonder wherever the world is going because of the speed of things. 

"They want to connect my landline to fibre. When I was growing up there were very few household phones.

"We used the phone box on the corner and paid a penny to make a call." 

Achieving the status of a centenarian bemuses Eileen.

“I feel like a fraud.. “I never thought about getting to a 100. The calender said I was turning 100 but I found it hard to believe. 

“I was fortunate enough to have three parties and a soiree.

“I’m thrilled with the good life I’ve had. I thank God for it.

“I definitely believe in God.”