Eulogy to Tom Guthrie
Eulogy to TOM GUTHRIE - written and spoken by Gerald Groom
at his funeral
at St. Patricks Church, Berry NSW
on
16th April 2009
How did I meet Tom?
I knew of Tom for about 5 years before I met him.
The Guthries and my family, The Grooms, went to the same Catholic Church, St. Peter and Paul in Chingola each Sunday and we sat a few pews away from each other. My mother and Vera worked together at one of two department stores in our small town, my Dad and Tom worked together at Nchanga Mine, and us kids went to the same school.
I first met Tom 45 years ago when I started to date his daughter, Sandra, in 1964.
One of my early recollections about Tom was that he was VERY strict and I remember on one occasion when I arrived at their home to take Sandra to an afternoon movie matinee – he sent me away as he said I was not dressed well enough to go out with his daughter …….. I was wearing a pair of tight jeans !!!!
Some time later we shared a different type of relationship when I was an apprentice on the local copper mine and Tom was the Open Pit Manager……. I needed to check in with him before going into the pit to service the electronic equipment on the huge earthmoving equipment.
What I learned about him in these early years was : The ‘dressing down’ I got from Tom about my dress, apart from him being VERY strict, reminds me that he was always a natty dresser and loved formality and to be impeccably groomed and smart.
What was Toms background ?
Tom Guthrie was born on 12th May 1921 in West Hartlepool in the north of England. He was one of 8 children and they were a strict Irish Catholic family. His father died when he was 18 months old and so he was raised by his mother. His mother was a short, feisty, fighting woman who taught her sons fisticuffs and how to maintain the family honour. She loved whisky and was a celebrity in the neighbourhood and she was called upon to deliver the babies and to lay out the dead. She worked as a dresser in the local theatre, she cooked, cleaned, washed and ironed for the ‘rich folk’ and her home.
What I learned about Tom from his early childhood was: Tom’s Mum was probably the person to create the ‘celebrity’ in him as he was always the one to be the centre of attention and a real showman an entertainer and a musician
What did Tom do in his life ?
In the early years when Tom was between 10 – 16 he worked as a stable hand and a delivery boy. When he was 16 he went to London…..the big city to seek his fortune.
He worked in the Kingston Hotel (??) as trainee waiter and continued at the hotel until he became the Maitre D.
Tom also put himself through night school, elocution classes and spent many hours in the library reading – something he always loved to do.
Tom was called up during the 2nd World War and served in Germany and France.
Perhaps the most significant thing Tom did in his life was to marry the girl next door Vera well, down the street, actually) and they shared 65 happy years together. (What a smart man!!)
After the war, in 1948, he left England (once again to seek his fortune) and set off for Cape Town in South Africa where he trained as a diesel mechanic. Vera and baby daughter Susan followed a few months later.
In 1956, Tom once again had itchy feet and felt he could better provide for his family if we went north to what was then Northern Rhodesia. Tom got a job on the Copper Mines, in Bancroft, and a year later his family joined him.
In Northern Rhodesia the family did very well and Tom was known for many things, amongst these are : his swimming prowess, a life saver at the pool (where he saved several lives) he was Grand Master of the Masonic Lodge, and earned legendary status for saving many lives in a ‘mud rush’ in 1957/58 underground. He served in the Rhodesian army patrolling the border and the bush during the Congo Uprising. Tom decided to evacuate his family to England for safety, but was back about eighteen months later. Tom got a job in Chingola, on Nchanga Mines, in the Open Pit, at that time, the biggest open pit mine in the world. In 1971, he left the mine, and joined a local trucking company, Loch Whylie, in Kitwe.
Tom and Vera came out to Australia initially in 1974, but returned to Africa less than a year later, as Tom could not settle. They went back to South Africa and then on to Zambia, followed by Angola – eventually returning to Australia in 1983.
What I learned about Tom from his adventurous, pioneering life was: Tom was never one to sit still for too long……he was always looking for what was next to improve or better his life.
Plus another learning about Tom was:
The experience Tom had at the Kingston Hotel (??) must have been where he picked up his being a stickler for etiquette and always having the table laid correctly, with linen napkins, glassware and appropriate cutlery.
So who was Tom?
Tom was outspoken, dictatorial, cared about formality, and as mentioned beforehand he was very strict – as teenagers, we shook in fear around him!
He was not one to suffer pain much and could be a hypocondriac – although when he learned of the disease that took his life he was fearless.
He was a loving father, a faithful husband and a wonderful, devoted and entertaining grandfather.
Tom loved his sleep and hell hath no fury like Tom Guthrie if his sleep was disturbed.
Tom loved music – all types of music and as many of you know was a very talented player of the mouth organ, which he carried with him to every function on the off chance that he could get to play it. At the family celebrations, we used song books that he had typed up and stapled together, which were well thumbed, and stained with gravy and wine.
He loved learning and continued to expand his knowledge all his life.
He was a very suspicious man and always thought someone would try and ‘get one over him’. He never took out insurance and had a distrust of banks and large organisations and institutions.
Tom was a true adventurer, a pioneer and rich in experiences and excitement, he was a raconteur and amazing story teller.
He loved laughing, good food, dancing, singing and the good times, although he hardly touched a drink.
Tom loved to do crosswords, he had a passion for trucks and motor cars and motor bikes (he would always ask the size of the engine or how many cylinders or pistons or how many miles to the gallon one got!) He spent hours writing letters, and later on, doing emails, he read voraciously. He and Mom travelled all over the world to many exotic places, he enjoyed playing golf and then as he grew older, he took up bowls, and soon became an umpire, something of which he was very proud.
Tom was fanatic about fitness, he loved Vera’s healthy food, he never smoked, he was a yoga devotee, didn’t drink much and always prided himself on his strong, muscular body. Even in his last days, he wanted to exercise and pushed himself to walk, even when he had to use a walking frame. One of the things I so admired about him was that he had a daily exercise routine – every single day of his adult life.
He loved telling jokes and often tried to trick people with riddles or by asking questions to things that he already knew the answer to.
Tom loved books and poetry, and one of his ‘party pieces’ was to recite the poem ‘Albert and the Lion’, and would have everyone spellbound, in the palm of his hand.
Tom was also a big softie, very sentimental and would cry at the Telstra adverts and was putty in the hands of his wife and every child he met. Every Christmas, he was Father Claus – Mom was Mrs. Claus – not only for his family, at dozens of events for friends and neighbours, and many children (and adults) around the world, including Berry.
Above all, Tom loved being with his family.
Tom was an extraordinary man.
He taught me many things.
He gave me his beautiful daughter Sandra, and Vera who has been a Mother to me all these years.
I am very pleased that I did not give up when he turned me away from his door 45 years ago.
I am very proud to call him ‘Dad’ and to have him as my father in law.
Gerald Groom
What follows was not read at Dad’s funeral, but I include here.
One of Dad’s favourite poems:
Sea Fever
I must down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,
And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by;
And the wheel’s kick and the wind’s song and the white sail’s shaking,
And a grey mist on the sea’s face, and a grey dawn breaking.
I must down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide
Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;
And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,
And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying.
I must down to the seas again, to the vagrant gypsy life,
To the gull’s way and the whale’s way where the wind’s like a whetted knife;
And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover,
And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick’s over.
And this by Rudyard Kipling:
If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
Or being hated, don’t give way to hating,
And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise:
If you can dream—and not make dreams your master;
If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build ’em up with worn-out tools:
If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: ‘Hold on!’
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings—nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
And—which is more—you’ll be a Man, my son!
ALBERT AND THE LION
By Stanley Holloway
There's a famous seaside place called Blackpool
That's noted for fresh air and fun
And Mr. and Mrs. Ramsbottom
Went there with young Albert, their son
A fine little lad were young Albert
All dressed in his best, quite a swell
He'd a stick with an 'orse's 'ead 'andle;
The finest that Woolworth's could sell
They didn't think much to the ocean
The waves they were piddlin' and small
There were no wrecks and nobody drownded
'Fact, nothin' to laugh at at all!
So, seeking for further amusement
They paid, and went into the zoo
Where they'd lions and tigers and camels
And cold ale and sandwiches, too
There were one great big lion called Wallace
Whose nose was all covered with scars;
He lay in a som-no-lent posture
With the side of 'is face on the bars
Now Albert 'ad 'eard about lions-
'Ow they was ferocious and wild;
To see lion lyin' so peaceful
Just didn't seem right to the child
So straightway the brave little feller
Not showin' a morsel of fear
Took 'is stick with the 'orse's 'ead 'andle
And stuck it in Wallace's ear
You could see that the lion din't like it
For givin' a kind of a roll
'E pulled Albert inside the cage with 'im
And swallered the little lad - 'ole!
Now Mother 'ad seen this occurrence
And not knowin' what to do next
She 'ollered "Yon lion's et Albert!"
An' Father said "Ee, I am vexed."
They complained to an animal keeper
Who said "My, wot a nasty mis'ap;
Are you sure it's your boy 'e's eaten?"
Pa said, "Am I sure? There's 'is cap!"
The manager 'ad to be sent for;
'E came and 'e said "Wot's to-do?"
Ma said "Yon lion's et Albert
And 'im in 'is Sunday clothes, too!"
Father said "Right's right, young feller-
I think it's a shame and a sin
To 'ave our son et by a lion
And after we paid to come in."
The manager wanted no trouble;
He took out his purse right away
Sayin' "'Ow much to settle the matter?"
Pa said "Wot do you usually pay?"
But Mother 'ad turned a bit awkward
When she saw where 'er Albert 'ad gone
She said "No, someone's got to be summonsed!"
So that was decided upon
And off they all went to p'lice station
In front of a Magistrate chap;
They told what 'ad 'appened to Albert
And proved it by showing 'is cap
The Magistrate gave 'is opinion
That no one was really to blame
And 'e said that 'e 'oped the Ramsbottoms
Would 'ave further sons to their name
At that Mother got proper blazin':
"And thank you, sir, kindly," said she-
"Wot, spend all our lives raisin' children
To feed your ruddy lions? Not me!"