Selling The Airspace
Finances occupied Rev Gordon Moyes’ attention soon after he took charge of the Wesley Central Mission. The Church owned two acres of prime real-estate in the heart of Sydney’s central business district but instead of it being an asset it was a liability.
Apart from the Wesley Centre facing Pitt Street, which was seven storeys high and only 13 years old, the other buildings on the site ranged from one to four storeys and dated back more than a hundred years. The upkeep on these old buildings was enormous—a gaping, bottomless pit of needs.
“Even the centre that Alan Walker built still carries a debt of one and a quarter million dollars, Bev. They tell me they’ve tried every way to reduce it but it’s impossible because of rising interest rates on their loans. I don’t know what we’re going to do. The whole place is a millstone around the mission’s neck.”
At home or at work Gordon spent a great deal of time pondering the problem and, as usual, when the solution came to him, it was radical.
“Why not, demolish every building on the property and begin all over again,” he suggested to the committee. “We could excavate down about 8 storeys for parking, and go up perhaps thirty or forty. We’d retain as much of the area as we need for Wesley Centre expansion and lease the remainder. Just think how much money we could earn if we filled all that air space with hundreds of new offices.”
The committee thought—and rejected the plan outright. The WCM was deeply in debt now and they certainly did not plan on borrowing more money.
“But we won’t need to borrow,” Gordon protested. “We’ll lease the buildings in advance—from the plans, before they’re built—that will give us the money. We won’t have to borrow at all and we’ll save on interest. That’s how we built all our Retirement Villages in Cheltenham.”
Gordon’s explanations fell on deaf ears—except for a few visionaries who saw the possibilities.
Before taking his idea to the committee, Gordon had discussed it with Sir Alan and Lady Walker. Naturally they were not happy. To them and their supporters the 13 year-old centre was `new,’ which it certainly was when compared with the other buildings on the site. After long consideration Sir Alan outlined a dozen reasons why Gordon should not undertake such a project, and why, if he did insist on going ahead with it, his idea would fail.
Gordon noted the reasons and over a period of months he painstakingly examined each one. There was no doubt that some of the objections were valid, but not insurmountable. He gratefully accepted them but they did not deter him.
The `Demolish and Rebuild’ suggestion generated a lot of heat as it was tossed back and forth. Gordon sympathised with those who opposed his idea, freely admitting that if the roles were reversed he would feel exactly as they did.
“I wouldn’t take kindly to some young upstart coming along and planning to demolish what the former leader considered to be the crowning act of his ministry. Particularly if the young upstart had only been superintendent for a year or so,” he added good humouredly.
The `new building’ occupied only about one-sixth of the total site, but trying to preserve it proved a drawback to developing the whole area. From whatever angle the planners viewed the problem there was no way the Pitt Street facade could remain and have the envisioned money-making complex go ahead.
Gordon prayed for guidance as he investigated every objection raised and every suggestion made. He would gladly accept a different solution to the dilemma if there was one. There were none.
Eventually the mounting costs for renovations and repairs, some even on the `new’ building, forced him to be firm.
“I can’t see any other solution,” he said to his committees. “The new building will have to be demolished along with the old.”
It didn’t happen overnight, but eventually his idea was accepted and voted on, without loss of face or friendship on either side.
The Synod of the Uniting Church in NSW set up special committees to work on the project which was ultimately to take twelve years to complete and cost in the vicinity of $300 million.
On another front Gordon found that being at the top was not without its temptations. A well-known motor company offered him $30,000 a year plus a company car if he would do advertisements on TV extolling the virtues of their cars.
“There’s nothing in the content of the advertisements that would violate my conscience or principles and the Wesley Mission could well have used the money but some of the board felt uneasy about accepting the offer,” Gordon reported to Beverley.
About the middle of the year friends arrived from Melbourne to stay with the Moyes children while their parents made a hurried trip to England. Gordon lectured for Olivetti and took services in the Kingston Methodist Church, as well as cramming in as many visits and talks with VIPs as he could reasonably expect to do in two weeks.
Rev Moyes couldn’t indulge in the luxury of jetlag. He was no sooner back in Australia than he became involved in the celebrations for the 46th Anniversary of Wesley Chapel. Next there was a ceremony to welcome 41 new members into the WCM. After that he rushed off to Brisbane for Expo 80 where he spoke each night to between 5,000 and 7,000 delegates. Returning to Sydney in time to have an Anniversary afternoon tea with the Governor General, Sir Zelman Cohen.Next he presided at the opening of Cottee Lodge, a new refuge for homeless youth. He had approached Mrs Lois Cottee for a donation and this very generous lady gave him a cheque for $135,000 for the project. This was the largest single donation he had ever received.
Tax time in June brought unpleasant discoveries. A quarter million dollars had been withdrawn from the Mission’s Reserve Fund some years earlier and used to repay a property debt on Wesley Centre. It remained on the books as a reserve but had in fact been spent.
The Opportunity Shops which had formerly proved to be little goldmines in raising funds as well as providing affordable clothing and other goods for the city’s less fortunate, now showed an anticipated loss of $300,000. There was no question of dishonesty among the staff, merely of poor oversight by the financial managers and the unauthorized transfer of reserve funds.
This type of mismanagement sorely tried Gordon’s orderly nature and he would have preferred to quietly suggest changes without endangering his Christian friendship with those involved. Alas, that was impossible and the organized re-arrangements in Administration and senior management caused long-lasting bitterness toward him.
This experience served to reinforce his conviction that what Wesley Central Mission needed more than anything else was to replace incompetent staff with younger, vibrant persons who were not afraid to implement new ideas. But this was easier said than done.
The orchard willed to the mission by H. W. Cottee, proved to be a profitable venture. So much so that the committee negotiated to purchase another orchard worth around $1.2 million. In the first six months of the year the church and public supported other fund-raising ventures to the tune of $200,000, and with the Spring Fair still to come there was no fear of not being able to meet WCM’s commitments.
But there was nothing left over for expansion. Always, at the back of Gordon’s mind was the problem of how to raise and maintain a `rainy day’ fund, as well as have sufficient money to undertake new developments.
THE SPRING FAIRIn her willingness to find a niche when they first came to WCM, Beverley Moyes offered to help with the Spring Fair. Her offer was gladly accepted and after working as a committee member for several years, WCM’s annual Spring Fair eventually became her special domain.
“Before I take over I’d like to know more about its history,” Beverley remarked to one of the older women. “Spring Fair origins seem to be lost in the mists of antiquity.”
“Well, you’ve asked the right one.” The woman’s lined face crinkled into a smile. “In 1915 my mother was one of the Methodist ladies who decided to have a fair to raise money for Christian work. They planned to spend all year sewing, painting pictures, knitting, crocheting and making all kinds of jams, jellies and pickles; as well as providing last minute items such as cakes, scones, and biscuits. Then at a spring fair they sold their handiwork to the public.
“Mother said the venture not only proved successful but year by year it grew and added more features. Old favourites lingered on for decades. I can remember plaguing Mum for pennies to guess the number of beans in a jar, or buy a lucky-dip, or estimate the weight of an outsize pumpkin donated by some proud home gardener.”
“We’ve got a lot more modern features these days,” another woman broke in. “Sometimes we have twenty or more young women and men volunteer to become Princess or Prince of the Fair. They conduct their own money-raising efforts to swell the funds and the one who raises the most money becomes Spring Fair Prince or Princess.”
Later in the year the annual Spring Fair lifted everyone’s spirits by raising a total of $71,184.
As well as the ever-present worry about finances, Gordon had a never-ending series of speaking engagements. His appointment book always read like something out of Who’s Who. A one week sample from his diary ran: `Spoke at National Salvation Army Leaders’ Conference at West Epping. United Church Women’s Group. United Graziers’ Conference at Surfer’s Paradise, and Hardware Retailers Mitre 10 at Leura. Had lunch with Prime Minister Malcolm Fraser and talked for an hour. Met with the Moderator and Secretary of the Synod.’
In July he flew to New Zealand to speak at an AMP Conference and then rushed back to speak to more than 800 people gathered at Kings College to celebrate the Third Anniversary of the Uniting Church.
It was a daunting task for Gordon, even with the help of the best secretary in the world, to successfully juggle all his speaking appointments. An alert lady with an eye to business realized this.
On one occasion he was the last of six speakers at a company function in North Sydney. The programme got off to a late start and each of the speakers ran overtime. As the evening progressed Gordon kept mentally cutting down the length of his own speech. A few times he even thought, `Why do I bother staying? People are fed up with speeches by now and my jaw is aching so much, I could easily make that an excuse to go home.’
An unscheduled encounter with the dentist that very afternoon had left him minus a wisdom tooth and plus a swollen face and a throbbing pain in his jaw. He felt anything but witty and entertaining.
At ten minutes after 11 p.m when he finally faced the crowd of several hundred people, Gordon decided to make his address short but memorable. Ignoring his pain he spoke for ten minutes, giving a punchy presentation that evoked thunderous applause.
The meeting ended shortly thereafter and people crowded around congratulating him on his capacity to change what threatened to be a disaster into a memorable conclusion to the evening. Among those applauding him was Christine Maher, the General Manager of `Celebrity Speakers International.’ The next day she contacted him.
“I’ve noticed your popularity as a speaker outside of your religious sphere,” she said, “why not let us handle all your secular appointments?”
So it was decided. CSI took over handling all Rev Gordon Moyes non-church appointments. When he approved of a request for his services, he handed it over for them to work on.
“They take care of everything,” he enthusiastically reported to his family, “time, place, topic, remuneration. They buy the air- tickets, arrange passport, visas, and accommodation if I need it on overseas appointments, make sure that taxis arrive on time, attend to everything that needs doing.”
“What a pity you didn’t know about them years ago.” Beverley recalled the times she had helped her popular husband arrange his appointment schedule.
Usually the fee for an address netted about $3,000 and Gordon realized that ten lectures a year would equal his present salary. However, he did not accept the money for himself. It was put into a trust fund that Beverley and he operated and used for charitable and religious purposes.
Apart from the money earned, these appointments gave Rev Moyes the opportunity of speaking to thousands of business people who had no connection with religion. His fearless witness for Christ in his many addresses, also nerved the few `cupboard Christians’ in his audience to come out of hiding. Once they admitted before their workmates that they were Christians it became easier for them to live what they believed.
On the private front, Beverley was taking lessons on the Pipe Organ and the Electronic Organ and teaching piano to son Andrew. The children were ending a good year at their respective schools. Jenny had studied consistently hard for her HSC and felt so confident of passing that she booked into Ku-ring-gai College to do a Primary Teaching course. Peter enjoyed the social aspect of school more than the scholastic and the 12 days at Camp Knox appealed to him more than the mere passing of examinations. David worked hard at all aspects of his study and sports at Knox Grammar. Young Andrew had broken his wrist but was managing quite well, and proudly displayed the plaster cast bearing his schoolmates’ autographs.
Although their father was often unavoidably absent in the evenings, mother was always there and the Moyes children never felt neglected. When home Gordon took an active interest in their hobbies and school projects and celebrated their birthdays with a family `dining out’ party. He admitted this was to accustom the children to society manners.
Years later, those who knew Gordon personally were not surprised when he received the honour of “Father of the Year,” at the NSW Father of the Year luncheon, held on August 22, 1986.
But shortly before the end of 1980, the Moyes family were all a’twitter when a certain young man presented himself at their door to accompany Jenny to her school formal at the Opera House. Gordon saw them off with smiles and jokes and then rushed into the bedroom to stare at himself in the mirror.
“Where have all the years gone?” he asked, as so many fathers before him have done. “Am I getting close to middle age? How else can it be possible that our firstborn is old enough to be dating?”
