On August 20, Stelios Androutsos turned 100 – a century. Family gathered to honour him at a love-filled celebration organised by his children: his daughter Panagiota, his son Andreas, and his partner Michelle, whom Stelios considers a daughter.
Neos Kosmos‘ presence at this significant moment in his life was the cherry on top of his two-tiered white cake, as this sweet-hearted man from Brunswick is one of the newspaper’s oldest and most loyal readers.
The celebration was Panagiota’s surprise to thank her father. You see, as the years go by, people find joy in different things.
The beginning
Stelios Androustos was born in Kalivia, Socha, Laconia, a small village where he grew up with the traditions and values of rural Greece. As a young man, he served in the Greek army for 18 months, but his service was extended due to the civil war.
“We had the insurgency situation, so they kept me there for about 40 months in the armored division. When all the insurgency and trouble was over, our commander told us, ‘Pack up and go home,’” Stelios recounts, summarising one of the most important and sorrowful chapters of Greek history in simple words.
Migration and break-out from Bonegilla
After being discharged from the army, he returned to his village and tried to rebuild his life. Two years later, in 1954, he decided to leave Greece behind and seek a better life in Australia with a fellow villager.
“Our poor parents, what could they do? They gave us a trunk with our belongings, two blankets, our clothes, and a can of olive oil. And so, we came here,” Stelios recalls.
“I arrived in August 1954 by ship. We traveled for thirty days and nights, with a stop in Perth and one in Port Melbourne.”
His arrival in Australia was not easy. The two young men were taken to Bonegilla, where many Greeks and other migrants awaited their papers and were sent to work wherever needed in Australia. Encouraged by a fellow Greek, Stelios and his friend decided to escape: “We were told to figure out how to leave, to head to Albury, take the train, and that they would wait for us at Spencer Street. And so it happened, we left without reporting. In the end, no one even searched for us. They said, ‘Let them be, they’ll find work on their own.’”
“Job, Job, Job!”
After their daring escape, Stelios and his friend settled in Brunswick, where they rented a small room from a Cypriot.
“The Australians wouldn’t rent to us back then. In fact, the room had been rented a month earlier, so when we arrived, we were already in debt for three pounds. […] The first days were tough, but we found a way to manage,” he says with a smile.
They immediately started looking for work in Brunswick, which, as Stelios tells us, “was full of factories, sock mills, dressmaking shops, things like that back then…”
Reminiscing about those days, he vividly recounts the dialogues they had with the factory foremen”
“-Do you speak English? asked the bosses.
-English nothing, we answered.
They sent us to a small factory making bricks on Lygon Street. We said ‘job, job, job,’ and the manager replied, ‘alright, come tomorrow,’” he recalls.
In that “terrible job,” as he calls it, he stayed for three months. Later, his best man got him a job on the railways, where he worked until his retirement.
Saint Basil is my home
Stelios was one of the pioneers who helped establish the Church of Saint Basil in Brunswick in 1959.
“At one point, there was a beautiful Australian house for sale, and a fellow Greek from Laconia who had come here with his son said, ‘Let’s buy it before anyone else grabs it and turn it into a church, Saint Basil’s.’ There was no church when we arrived, just the Annunciation. For my wedding, they took us to a hall they rented in Carlton because there was no church,” he says, his enthusiasm palpable.
“Eventually, we bought it, cleaned the plot, held the opening ceremony, and Saint Basil’s started operating in 1959. I’ve been involved since the beginning, and I’m still a trustee. Saint Basil’s is my home.”
My ‘Panoula’
In Australia, Stelios was not alone. His wife, Panagiota, or “Panoula,” as he affectionately called her, followed him in 1957.
“We had a brief acquaintance before I left when a cousin of mine introduced us. She followed me to Australia; she came by plane. We got married and immediately had our daughter, Panagiota. A few years later, our son Andreas was born,” Stelios recalls.
Panagiota was a seamstress and won the love of the local community with her skills and kindness.
“My wife was an excellent seamstress, even from Greece. She became well-known here, both among the rich and the poor; she was a woman of the church,” he says, visibly emotional.
Her death in 2004, at the age of 71, was a huge blow to Stelios.
“I lost my wife 20 years ago. It was difficult, but I had my children and my faith to keep going,” he says with sadness.
FAMILY ABOVE ALL
Family has always been the center of Stelios’s life. After coming to Australia, he sponsored 12 members of his extended family, including his siblings and his wife’s siblings. His children, Panagiota and Andreas, describe him as a man full of love and patience.
“My father always supported me in whatever I wanted to do. He was there for me, offering the best he could, and never became tiresome, only helpful. He is a very pleasant man, and I’m glad he’s my father. I love him and always will,” Andreas says, moved.
Panagiota adds: “We’re happy for our dad, who has lived to such an old age. He still helps us today, despite being 100. He’s independent and does everything on his own. We’re proud to have him with us.”
THE KEY MOMENTS
Stelios Androutsos’s life has been full of significant moments, both joyous and difficult, which shaped his journey and left indelible marks on his heart.
“The saddest events in my life were the losses—first my parents and then my wife,” he says.
However, he fondly remembers the trips he took with his wife to Greece and other places.
“We even reached Jerusalem and saw all the churches there, as well as Tinos and Crete,” he recalls, while his son Andreas reminds him of their cruises around the Greek islands.
“Another happy moment in my life was when my daughter Panagiota became a teacher and got her degree. At that time, this was a big achievement for a family that had emigrated from Greece,” he says.
“There Is Only One Homeland: Greece.”
Stelios remembers his life in Greece with emotion, which he always longs for. Like many Greeks back then, he says, he came with the idea of staying for a few years.
“We all said, ‘Let’s go abroad for five years,’ and five years passed, ten years passed, the days went by, and we’re still here, thank God,” he says.
Still, if he had the chance to live his life again, Stelios is adamant: “I would never leave Greece. Why would I leave? It’s my homeland. I served it; I grew up there. Being abroad is being abroad. As good as Australia or any country may be, it’s still not home. It’s not our homeland. Greece is our only homeland,” he says.
The secret to a long life
When asked about the secret to his longevity, Stelios simply answered, “Walking. Every morning and afternoon, I took my walks in the park in Carlton.”
His daughter, Panagiota, adds: “Dad always took care of his diet, ate healthily, and never neglected exercise.”
However, as his words suggest, longevity runs in his family, with many confirming the saying that “90 is the new 50.”
Stelios Androutsos’s life is filled with memories, love, and faith. At 100 years old, he remains a living witness to history, a man who respects his past and is optimistic about the future.
As he says: “I don’t know if I’ll live another 100 years, but I lived these 100 well, and I thank everyone for their love.”
Our conversation could have continued for hours, filled with memories and stories from a century of life.
As we stepped into the living room, where all the guests were eagerly waiting to see Stelios and wish him well, the emotion was palpable.
His brother, Giorgos, refused to drink his cognac without his brother by his side, a ritual they’ve repeated every day after their morning coffee.
But the cognac must always be “Metaxa,” they say, clinking their glasses.
