Friday, May 8, 2009

Fires, fan-tan and opium: Auckland’s Wakefield Street

Image: Looking up Wakefield Street from Mayoral Drive.

Wakefield Street. Today, to me, it’s the place where I head for land history information, to the Auckland office of Land Information at Oracle Tower (while LINZ still has a presence here in Auckland city, but that presence is dwindling month by month as the government department retracts and slowly closes down here in the City of Sails). In times past, it was a main route out of the Queen Street valley up to the Symonds Street ridge. One heck of a gut-buster walk uphill, mind.

William Swainson wrote in 1852: “Wakefield-street ascends from its southern extremity until it joins the Cemetery-road; and is the newest and most increasing street in the town. Many of the houses are built of brick, and it already bears a considerable resemblance to a new street in the outskirts of a modern English town.” (New Zealander, 12 May 1852)

But, as the unknown author of “Old Auckland”, an article from the Cyclopedia of NZ, 1902, put it:
"Such was Auckland when it had been struggling into a position of importance for a dozen years, when it was a portion of a “borough” of 40,000 acres, when it had caught a foretaste of the gold fever, and when it was preparing to take on “Parliamentary Honours.” Ponsonby was a blank of waste land, Upper Queen Street, in embryo, and Shortland Crescent and Wakefield Street the only outlets to the east and south, and these two very rough. Wakefield Street, the better of the two, was blessed with a grade of one in eight or nine in those days; but all the omnibuses for Onehunga had to take it. Verily, Auckland's early road engineers were horse-killers of the first magnitude. No engineering difficulty whatever was there to hinder Wakefield Street being started at the foot of Victoria Street East, and finished at the top of Alexandra Street, at a level which would have served for all time, and better than any that has been since found. Wakefield Street, which Mr. Swainson mentions so favourably, is of less value and importance to-day than it was then. Indeed, the street might now be made from Victoria Street without cutting through property of much value, while the allotments abutting on a street with so sensible a grade would soon be very valuable. Whether Auckland ever will get a reasonably easy grade out of the hole in which the business part lies is now doubtful; but it had excellent chances in those days.”
So, yes – in the main, Wakefield Street’s gradient told against it becoming a major centre in early Auckland. But, people still lived, worked and died here. It has a long and eventful history.

A remnant of old Wakefield Street is the former Fitzroy Hotel, 75-77 Wakefield Street, on the Lyndock Street corner. Originally built in 1857, it is a survivor, through cosmetic changes to its façade, from the days when hotels sat beside residences in this mainly working class area. It’s been the site for public legal battles over its continued survival in recent years. It’s a place of some mystery, though. Two human skulls were found in a well there in 1885. (Grey River Argus, 14 March 1885)

Fires were common in Auckland in the 1800s, and Wakefield Street was no exception. Mr. Carlisle, a milliner down at the junction of Queen and Wakefield, was an extremely fortunate man in March 1863. Some of his sale articles were knocked down close to an open flame as he reached to close his shutters. He was lucky in that a sergeant and two or three other soldiers from the 40th regiment happened to be passing, on the way to their homes, having filled their pails with water from the Queen Street pump. They saw what was happening, dashed into the shop, and doused the flames. (Southern Cross, 30 March 1863)

A former painter named William George Williams decided to end his days in Wakefield Street, but in an almost ritualistic manner. Depressed, recently under the care of Dr. Philson, in October 1865 he entered a house in the street, took a small box with him into one of the front rooms, sat on it, then placed a paint-pot on the floor to catch the blood as he thrust a sharpened penknife into his neck. His body was found, fallen backwards over the box, the knife dropped to the ground beside the paint pot. (Taranaki Herald, 21 October 1865)

Another death in Wakefield Street, this time not suicide but sheer accident, was that of Mr. E. Johnson. He’d developed a lung infection, from a very bad cold, and his doctor prescribed two medications, one a cough mixture, the other to be rubbed on his chest. This was, of course, in the days before Vicks Vaporub (as an aside, I well remember the effect, as a wee kiddy, of inadvertently rubbing that stuff in the eyes … ow …) but Dr. Goldsbro’s external prescription was for something far stronger. So strong, it was poisonous. At half past twelve on 17 October 1869, after a hearty supper at the conclusion of a day spent working in his drapers shop (Powley & Johnson, Queen Street), he lay in his bed at home in Wakefield Street and decided to have some of the cough mixture. However, the swig he took was from the wrong bottle. He went to sleep directly afterward, resting uneasily until he awoke in the morning to realise his mistake. Emetics and the stomach pump proved futile; he died eight hours after ingesting the poison. The inquest blamed Mrs. Johnson, his widow, for not paying proper attention to the deceased. (Nelson Examiner and New Zealand Chronicle, 3 November 1869)

Butchers shops in the 1860s slaughtered animals on the premises. In the days before refrigeration, that was one of the only ways to keep meat reasonably fresh. Of course, living next to these mini-slaughter houses wasn’t wonderful, and the city authorities waged war against them foir decades. One Richard Stanton Sandle in Wakefield Street was charged and fined for killing sheep on his premises. (Southern Cross, 26 September 1866) A few years later, his establishment burned down in a fire.

The Presbyterians built a “Protestant Hall” in Wakefield Street in 1866.
“The newly-erected Protestant Hall in Wakefieldstreet was opened last evening by a public soiree and musical entertainment, under very auspicious circumstances. The hall was crowded to overflowing throughout the evening, and numbers were unable to gain admission. The building had been erected under the management of a committee of the Protestant Association, and is intended as a place of meeting for the members of the association, as well as religious purposes. The building is plain, but very suitable for a somewhat numerous assemblage. It is 40 feet long by 24 feet in width, and possesses vestries at the back. There is also a small gallery over the entrance suitable for choir or orchestra, which was occupied last evening by a strong band of instrumentalists. The building has been erected by private subscriptions, and it is confidently hoped will be free from debt before the year closes. It has been put up at a cost of £170, by Messrs. Coote and Co., £120 of which has already been subscribed, and the balance paid by promissory note falling due on the 21st December. The interior was gaily decorated with flags, banners, devices, and flowers, and showed that great pains had been taken by the committee to ensure success on the opening night.”
(Southern Cross, 6 November 1866)

Now, remember, this was a Protestant Hall, and supported by Presbyterians. Hardly the sort of place one would expect would attract accusations of being a hotbed of immorality and licentious acts, surely? Wrong.

To the Editor of the Daily Southern Cross. Sir,— Immorality is undoubtedly very rife at present in Auckland. It therefore behoves every respectable person to inquire into the cause, and use his influence to root out the evil, as far as lies in his power. Your able and well-directed efforts, both in exposing abuses and pointing out their remedies, and also in opening your correspondence columns so freely to any remarks made with a view to improvement, deserve the thanks of the community. I need, therefore, offer no apology for troubling you with the following observations. After some little inquiry and consideration, I have come to the conclusion that dancing-places are a very fruitful source of evil in Auckland ; in fact, I might call them the hotbeds of prostitution, for many a young person is led to her ruin through attending such places …

A dancing place is also kept in the Protestant Hall, Wakefield-street, the management of which I am not so well acquainted with, but believe it is carried on in the same manner as above.”
(Southern Cross, 1 October 1867)

Wakefield Street’s potential hot-bed of vice was destroyed in a major fire in April 1869.

As I said, Wakefield Street, despite its gradient, was a thoroughfare between the valley and the ridge. The Auckland Sunday School Union marched children up there in December 1868 as part of their annual festival.
“After being arranged by the officers and teachers the whole marched up Wakefield-street, preceded by the band of the Auckland Band of Hope, down Symonds-street, and over to the Domain, the band discoursing lively airs all the way. The children — dressed in their best clothes, and carrying banners with appropriate devices— were a very pretty spectacle.”
(Southern Cross, 1 January 1869)

And one of the first steam-powered road vehicles trundled its way up the incline in 1871, a great advertising gimmick by Fraser & Tinne for their Mechanics Bay foundry.
“It will be seen by our advertising columns that another public trial of the Thomson's road steamer lately imported here is to take place to-day at one o'clock. The course will be from the foundry of Messrs. Fraser and Tinne, up Alten Road and down Shortland-street, along Queen-street, up Wakefield-street and along Symonds-street, and down Alten Road to the point of departure. We understand it will convey a trolly loaded with pig iron, so that there will be no difficulty in ascertaining the exact weight it is drawing. The trolly will be loaded with ten tons of pig iron. Carters are cautioned to keep out of the way with their horses to prevent the possibility of accident."
(Southern Cross, 18 September 1871)

Over the course of the years, Wakefield Street would either be packed with buildings of varying standards of construction, or dotted with vacant sections after the inevitable fires had done their work, razing whole blocks to the ground with almost depressing frequency. The vacant lots, although cleared of flammable rubble, still held their dangers in the early days, and not just because of human remains found down the wells, but because of the wells themselves.

"A horse belonging to Mr. James Bryan, a fuel merchant, was drowned yesterday afternoon in the following manner :— There is a vacant allotment of ground in Wakefield-street upon which is an old long-disused well. The boards which covered the well over, being rotten from age and long exposure to the elements, broke in, upon the horse treading on them, when the animal fell in and before aid could be brought to draw it out was drowned."
(Southern Cross, 7 November 1872)

Still, over all the hotels, dancing halls, deaths, suicides and fires – the one theme which made Wakefield Street and its neighbourhood notorious was the establishment of Chinese businesses in the area. This meant public concerns regarding opium, fan-tan and possibly illicit sex were not far behind.

Three doors before the western side of St Pauls Street (once known as Abercrombie Street), and next door to the Garrett Brothers’ bootmaking factory, was a shop run by Ah Yeal Gong or Ah Gong Kee, from around 1882. As was common in the late 19th century, Euro-centric newspapers and directories were free with the placement of Chinese first names and family names, as well as spelling them phonetically and not always correctly. As Gong Kee, he seems to have been confused with another Chinese merchant, Ah Chee, who didn’t have a known business on Wakefield Street. (Chinese brandy police raid, reported in the Marlborough Express of 30 June 1887 mistakenly named Ah Chee.

In April 1883, the Auckland police happened upon a Chinese gambling house on Wakefield Street – after one customer “lost £70 at fan-tan to the keeper, refused to pay up, owing, it is alleged, to his having been cheated, and the keeper of the house detained him a prisoner until the police, hearing of the matter, liberated him.” (Evening Post, 1 May 1883) In June 1885, “nineteen Chinamen were arrested last night while placing fan-tan in a Chinese gambling house in Wakefield street: The keeper of the house, Gang Kee, was today fined £5 and costs, and eighteen other offenders 10s and costs.” (Timaru Herald, 30 June 1885)

The Observer on 4 July 1885 alerted the Auckland public to the “Chinese Den in Wakefield Street.
The Chinese den in Wakefield-street, on which Detective Hughes and his myrmidons made a raid on Sunday evening last, has been in existence, according to the detective, for more than 12 months; and, when the character of the place is borne in mind, it is somewhat surprising that the police did not pay the establishment a visit long ago. It is whispered that Ah Gong Kee's abode has not been exclusively frequented by Chinamen, but that several well-known Auckland citizens have been in the habit of dropping in of an evening at the house in Wakefield-street to indulge in the body-and-mind destroying practice of opium smoking, a habit which, once acquired, is said to be more difficult to break off than that of dram drinking. “

It wasn’t always the Chinese merchants committing the crimes – they were preyed upon by sharp criminals from within the European community.

“Last week a Chinaman named Ah Fook, a storekeeper in Wakefield Street, Auckland, reported to the police that about two a.m. six men entered his shop and asked to be shown over the premises. They said they were policemen, and one was pointed out to him as a sergeant and one a detective. They remained about a quarter of an hour, and then left. After their departure Ah Fook discovered that four opium pipes and 4s in silver, the latter of which were in the till, were missing. Subsequently, Detectives Quirke and McMahon arrested a man named Joseph McDuff Otway on suspicion of being concerned in. the theft. The accused was brought up at the Police Court, and remanded. Sergt. Gamble intimated there were several others concerned in the case, whom it was intended to apprehend.”
(Poverty Bay Herald, 2 July 1895)

A report from the NZ Herald, concerning a sanitary inspection of the slum dwellings which the Wakefield Street area was now also known for, also emphasised what went on in Auckland’s opium dens.

“On Monday morning Dr King, the Medical Officer of Health for the city, and Mr Goldie, Chief Inspector of Nuisances, accompanied by a N.Z. Herald representative who was passing at the time, paid a surprise visit to the Chinese colony in Wakefield street, for the purpose of making an inspection of the sanitary arrangements of the houses inhabited by some — such as, for instance, those who kept shops and were in direct trading relations with Europeans, and those living with their wives and families were found in as good condition as are premises occupied by the average colonial. Some, however, were discovered to be in a shockingly bad condition from a sanitary point of view. The back yards were covered with rubbish of all kinds and rotting garbage, while under one house was a pool of black slime that must have been accumulating for a long time. So bad was the state of things that even in the open air the visitors were compelled to saturate their moustaches with disinfectants in order to allow of their proceeding further. Some of the interiors of the houses were still less inviting. Beds and pallets appeared to be everywhere. In what had been a one-storied structure and in an attic above the ceiling and under the shingles were several beds, while the living rooms presented a picture of undreamt of squalor and filth. Everywhere in this class of house was an overpowering and nauseating smell of opium fumes so strong that Inspector Goldie had to have all the doors opened to let in fresh air before the rooms could be inspected, and then all the party suffered from nausea and severe headache for the rest of the day. Judging from what could be seen opium-smoking and gambling seemed to be the chief, if not almost the only occupations. Though it was not then noon, the appliances for "fan-tan," etc., appeared all ready for use at any moment, while at least a dozen of the little lamps used for lighting the opium were burning on the pallets on which the smokers recline, ready with the pipes, for those who wanted to indulge in the habit. The parties were able to witness the operations of lighting the pipes and the method of smoking, and the ultimate result — the result being the figure of a man, huddled under a lot of old clothes, insensible to the world. One Chinaman, who appeared to be in charge of one of the houses, took the visit very coolly, his only grievance being that the duty on the opiate was too high. The opium smoking, however, was not part of the mission of the health officers, the object of the visit being to inspect the sanitary condition of the premises. The result was that it was determined to at once take steps to condemn at least one of the dwellings as unfit for habitation, and proceed to force the occupants to put the places into something like a sanitary condition. Dr. King said of the houses of the class described, that they were in the worst condition of any he had ever seen.”
(Poverty Bay Herald, 9 August 1895)

The Observer, seeing a chance to hold up Auckland’s resident Chinese against European standards, took it.
“The recent disclosures in Wakefield-street had their sequel in the S.M. Court on Tuesday last, when three Chinamen were summoned for keeping dirty premises. The Health Officer and Corporation officials testified to the unsatisfactory condition of the yards, and by way of excuse John pleaded their dirty state was due to the recent heavy rains. Magistrate Northcroft, however, was not to be taken in so easily, and in passing judgment said he was asked to believe that Dr. King and Inspector Goldie were perjuring themselves. The defendants were sharply spoken to and impressed with the necessity of keeping their yards clean in accordance with European ideas of the fitness of things. Now that a conviction has been recorded, the authorities should not relapse into their former apathy, but see that periodical visits of inspection are paid to these wretched hovels, and make the 'heathen Chinee' live something like a decent life.”
(Observer, 17 August 1895)

This said, at the time the population statistics of Auckland slum dwellers would have dominated by those of European ancestry, rather than Chinese. Of course, shock-horror reports about the “heathen Chinee” sold more papers. The Observer, which also expressed their concerns at that point about Chinese market gardeners and fruit sellers, waded into the situation regarding Chinese laundries as well – and managed to get in another swipe at the Wakefield Street “dens”.
“The Chinese laundrymen are doing a big trade in Auckland, thanks to the women and to the youthful fops who like their shirts made spotlessly white for something less than nothing. There is one laundry in Grey-street where unpatriotic idiots of both sexes send their clothes to be ironed by the evil smelling Chow, while poor and hard working white women are thus deprived of the work which should be theirs, merely for the sake of saving about threepence on a dozen articles Those who patronise the Chinaman in preference to their own countrymen and women deserve to be sentenced to pass a night in one of the Chinese dens in Wakefield-street. They wouldn't send any more clothes to a Chinese laundry.”
(Observer, 12 September 1896)

I mentioned sex earlier – and when it came to providing a shock for the decently-living readers of the newspapers (which sold papers of course), sex even in Victorian times was a winner. In the 1860s, it was rumours of improprieties outside dancing halls. In the 1890s, one only needed to put out a report of young girls in a Chinese den to spark further interest. To the rest of the country, Auckland must now have seemed to be seething with pockets of immorality.
At the instance of the authorities of the Door of Hope, a visit was paid to certain Chinese tenements in a lane off Wakefield-street by Mr. George Goldie (Sanitary Inspector for the City Council), and Dr. King (Health Officer for the city), accompanied by Sister Francis, of the Door of Hope. Two young girls about 19 were found in one of the houses, but one managed to get away from the rescue party. The other said she had been brought to the house the previous evening while under the influence of drink, and did not know where she was till morning. She said her mother lived in Newton, but she preferred going to the Door of Hope. It is intended to get the other girl into the Home also, if possible. Several girls, it is said, frequent tumbledown and extremely filthy houses occupied by Chinamen in the vicinity of Wakefield-street.”
(Evening Post, 28 November 1896)

Another gambling raid on Wakefield Street.

“On Sunday night the Auckland police authorities made a raid on a Chinese gambling house in Wakefield Street, and arrested the occupier (Chee Fong) and 25 other Chinamen. It appears (says the Herald) that complaints have been made by the European neighbors of the proceedings going on till three and four o'clock in the morning, and also by Chinamen who alleged that they had lost money there. A warrant was accordingly taken out under the Gaming and Lotteries Act, and it was decided to execute it last night, as the Chinamen come in from their vegetable gardens in the suburbs to have a little amusement after their own fashion. The expedition was well managed, and there was no leakage. Orders were given for a number of police to fall in at the Barracks, after the night relief had come in, and they only received their instructions and a knowledge of their destination when ready to march. On reaching Wakefield Street the force marched across the street to Chee Fong's well-known establishment. Sergeant Lyons and a detachment went to the rear of the premises to cut off the escape of the Chinese in that direction, while Sergt. Gamble led the way in through the front entrance (which was found open) followed by Chief Detective Grace and his men, the police forming the support. The Chinese were completely surprised, and a stampede ensued. Some made for the back exit, only to fall into the hands of Sergt. Lyons and his men, while others got under tables, beds, and down cellars. Only one man made any resistance, but there is little doubt they would have resisted but for the police being nearly man for man. Chief-Detective Grace, about half an hour after the force got in, was searching in a likely spot, when he came across a Chinkie, his pigtail protruding, who had been lying quietly coiled up all the time under a bed, and hauled him out. The Chinaman strongly objected to the bracelets being put on, but on understanding the situation more fully he subsided. Another got down a cellar, where he was pursued by Constable Charles Brien, who got his uniform partly damaged in the scrimmage. The Chinese were in two rooms, and apparently at two tables, playing fan-tan. A quantity of Chinese cash, counters, tokens, dice, money, etc., were seized. In a short time all the Chinese were handcuffed in pairs, and were marched, under escort, along Abercrombie Street and Lorne Street to the lock-up. The party were followed by a large crowd. The scene at the lock-up baffles description. The guard-room and corridor were filled with police and handcuffed Chinamen. The fun did not fairly begin till Constable Clark (lock-up keeper) came to fill up the charge-sheet with the names of the prisoners. The services of Mr Thomas Ah Quoi were invoked as interpreter, and but for his aid the police would have been wrestling with the names of the accused till now. The prisoners on being searched had in all nearly £4O upon them, in gold, notes, and silver."
(Poverty Bay Herald, 23 December 1896)

The raids went on, and on.
“At the Police Court to-day the adjourned cases against 25 Chinamen for either being concerned or found in a house in Wakefield Street kept and used as a common gaminghouse were called on. The Crown Prosecutor said that owing to the holidays he had been unable to prepare the cases, and he asked, therefore, that a remand be granted until Monday, 1st February; There were seven Chinamen among defendants who lived at a distance, and it would be hard to ask them to wait until the trial, and he, therefore, asked that the names of these seven be eliminated from the charge-sheet and discharged. Mr. Northcroft then discharged the following :— Sara Woh, Wellington ; Ah Chong, storekeeper, Taranaki; Charley Wing, steward, Wairoa ; Ah Law, cook, Gisborne ; Ching Sup,. gardener, Wanganui; M. Lee, shopman, Wellington ; Kee Jang, shop assistant, Dunedin. The other defendants were remanded until 1st February, the bail being enlarged. Mr. Cotter appeared on behalf of the defendants.
(Evening Post, 7 January 1897)
“Last night the police raided a Chinese gambling den in Wakefield street. In three small rooms they found 60 Chinamen playing dominoes, fan tan and smoking opium, and arrested 22 fan tan players, who were handcuffed in pain and taken to the Police Court. A number of other Chinamen came down to bail out ten of the accused, bat they refused to go unless all were bailed. Two intended leaving for China tonight with a large sum of money. The prisoners are chiefly suburban gardeners who knock down their cheques and hare to return to work again in a week or two."
(Hawera & Normanby Star, 31 July 1899)

"Last evening a party of deteotives and constables made a raid upon a Chinese establishment in Wakefield Street, under observation by the police authorities for some months past. There they found play in full swing and captured a fan-tan paraphernalia. The Chinese tried to escape in every direction, and one or two fought desperately to get away. Twelve men were arrested and taken to the police station and subsequently bailed out."
(Bay Of Plenty Times, 23 April 1900)

“The police raided a Chinese gambling den in Wakefield street last night. A game of fan-tan was in full swing. The Chinamen made a rush for the doors, but were met at every exit by the police. The banker and his clerk were discovered under the gaming table. Thirty-one arrests were made. The Chinamen were handcuffed in pairs, and marched to the lookup, Money was discovered on the men ranging from £5 to £50. At the Police Court, the keeper of the Chinese gambling house was fined £25, and his two assistants £3 each; the others £2 and £1 each. "
(Hawera & Normanby Star, 3 February 1902)

By the Edwardian period, the Observer had taken another editorial tack. In contrast to its style of the 1890s, now it cast light on the hypocrisy of colonial gaming legislation, where totalisator gambling was legal, but fan-tan gambling wasn’t.

“Verily, we are a hypocritical people. Last Monday's paper contained the news that speculation was brisk at the Takapuna Races, and that during Saturday the sum of £10,338 was passed through the totalisators, making the total of £29,335 for the three days, as against £23,914 for the corresponding meeting last year. Mark the nice distinction that is made between totalisator speculation and gambling. Totalisator speculation is within the law —the law shares the profits -- it is not gambling, but speculation. On the other hand, in the same issue of the newspaper, is a sensational account of a raid made by a detachment of police upon the residence of a Chinaman in Wakefield Street and the capture of upwards of thirty Chows for the heinous offence of playing their national game of fan tan for small stakes.

“Of course, the people who planked the £30,000 on the totalisator at Takapuna were not gambling. Neither were the horde of bookmakers who had paid the license fees and who carried on their business of betting under the approving eye of the law. Therefore, it would have been an outrage of the public conscience to have raided and arrested them, and marched them to prison manacled to each other. But with these Chinamen it was different. Public gambling on horse races is right and proper, and is entitled to the protection of our highly virtuous Government, but private gambling in the seclusion of a dwelling-house at such an infamous game as fan tan, is monstrous, and must be suppressed.

“It may be said for the Chinamen that the occasion was their New Year festival, that their laws and religion do not esteem playing fan-tan for stakes a sin, and that they were not corrupting the morals of young and innocent persons. But that is beside the question. Gambling is a crime in the eyes of the country, and a scapegoat being necessary to illustrate our loathing of gambling, let us raid the Chinamen, and fine and imprison them. It is an offering that is sure to satisfy the public conscience. But, at the same time, is it not a satire upon our hypocritical self-righteousness that this thing was done just when the officers of the Takapuna Jockey Club were congratulating themselves on record business on their totalisators ?

“True, these Chinamen are foreigners. But if we are so anxious to suppress gambling, why should there be one law for the Chinaman and another for the European. If the police had continued their highly-moral crusade on Sunday night, and had raided the several clubs in Auckland, would they have discovered no gambling— would they have found no stakes being played for with cards higher than the small amounts that these Chinamen gamble for at fantan? The police themselves can answer that question. However, the public conscience has been vindicated. Thirty Chinamen have been fined for gambling at fan-tan.”
(Observer, 8 February 1902)

Slum clearance over the next two decades would have eliminated much of Wakefield Street’s old low reputation. Today, it is all commercial, with clean and modern lines to most of the buildings. The old Wakefield Street, apart from the Fitzroy Hotel, has vanished.

Image: from Wakefield Street, looking over the Mayoral Drive to Queen Street.


  1. Hey, how are you doing? Hope all is well.

  2. Not too bad, Leon, not too bad. Thanks for stopping by.