Herbert Leslie Drysdale

EULOGY 1 - Ross Good morning, I am Ross the oldest of Bert’s two sons. We would like to thank you all for coming today to celebrate and remember my father’s life, in particular I thank those who have travelled from far afield and interstate. On 24 Jan 1921 Bert was born in the very Balmain East house he ended up living in for just over 91 years. He was the last of eight children to be born and last Sunday he became the last of his siblings to pass away. His mother, (my grandmother) bore children over a 22 year period starting in1899 and finishing as I said with Dad in 1921, a 10 year gap to the next youngest, my Uncle Jack. Needless to say, once his cuteness stage passed, my father was on the lowest rung of the pecking order with his brothers and sisters and growing up in the 1920’s leading to the Great Depression, it was a hand-me-down world. I know this because most of artefacts of that era are still in the house. I can tell you that the midwife’s fee for delivering my father was 12 shillings and sixpence – we have the receipt, it is in the house. For those of you whose school years are later than 1966 that’s converts to $1.25. We think it a pretty good bargain. Dad went to the famous Nicholson Street Public School in East Balmain, then to junior high school at “Pigeon Grounds” , across the road here at Gladstone Park. After leaving school he trained as a Pattern Maker in the metal trades and worked in private industry. With the outbreak of World War II he attempted to join the RAAF but his employer objected to his release because he was deemed to be working in an essential industry. He instead became a Warden – this I know, because his helmet, torch and bicycle are still in the house. In 1943 Dad became his own brother-in-law. His bride, my Mum to be, Beryl (Billie) was the younger sister of Roger who was the husband of Dad’s elder sister May – are you still with me. With the two marriages between the families, the Drysdale’s of Balmain became even closer to the Greentrees of Windsor. With the responsibility of a wife, Dad settled down and gave up racing around on his motor bike or rather, it burst into flames one day. This I know because it’s still in the garage. Anyway back to the story - Dad decided to give up on pattern making and gained a position as a Carpenter with the Dept of Railways. In the late 1940’s and early 1950’s he worked a fairly solitary life up and down the North Coast railway line building signal boxes and the like whilst living in a goods van in various sidings; sometimes he shot rabbits for his supper. In spite of this he still managed to come home to his wife in Balmain most week-ends. This involved getting the overnight flyer (Steam Train) on Fridays, spending Saturday at home then back up the coast overnight on Sunday for the start of the new work week. In 1948 and 1956 Gary and I were born. In summary, I would say my father was strict but fair in our upbringing. He had a strong moral compass with few shades of grey and at times it was hard to get him to change his mind. I can recall when I was young and contemplating the difference between right and wrong. He said “First ask yourself whether you would like it done or said to you and that will determine whether it is the right or wrong thing to do”. He was very independent, which Gary will talk about later and had a strong work ethic. I cannot recall him having a sick day from work in the time I was living at home notwithstanding that he had a bad back injury from a fall and lung damage from asbestos. However, with us kids it was his way or the highway, particularly in relation to any work to be done around the house. When I say “us kids” I’m of course only referring to the period up to 2011. Our father grew up in very different times to his grandchildren. Family entertainment often involved sitting for hours listening to the wireless, the first radio station started in 1923 (it wasn’t FM) and you had to pay a licence fee to listen to it. Just saying that - maybe it isn’t all that different; my kids today pay to download from iTunes and they listen to their iPod for hours. I know this because I see them at home. And of course the circa 1939 wireless is still in the house at Balmain. Over the years, Dad saw the advent of talking pictures, television, jet aircraft, space travel, microwaves, shopping malls, walkie talkies, DVDs, mobile phones, and 22 Australian Prime Ministers. Not a bad innings! My mother and father were very happy together. Fortunately, they had some really great times after he retired and they travelled as grey nomads around far flung parts of Australia. Gary and I will be forever grateful to Dad that when our mother had a serious heart attack he nursed her 24/7 for the too few short years until her death in Sept 1990. He met this challenge with dignity and not a single complaint. Not only did Dad have long associations with possessions, but also with people. He was the unofficial local historian of the East End, had an excellent memory of most things past, not what he had for lunch yesterday, but he could tell you who lived in what house in the 1930s. He had well over 60 years as a freemason and cherished the fellowship over that time with the brethren and I’m pleased to see them represented today. He enjoyed the Railways Retired Officers Association Signals Branch and when he was able, looked forward to their regular meetings in Petersham RSL. He formed a great friendship with Minna and her family and they were very supportive of each other during the latter years. And for that we say Thank You. He was an avid Balmain Tigers rugby league supporter but lost interest when the club merged to become West Tigers and horror of horrors closed down the club premises at Rozelle. He will be missed by his sons, our wives Stephanie and Ilse, his 6 grandchildren, Danielle, Grant, Steven, Alexander, Monique and Kira, and by his great-grandson James. Uncle Bert will be missed by nieces Ruth, Wendy and Jill and by all his other remaining relatives. He told me he had had a great life, and that it was time for him to go. He had no fear of death and he has gone to a better place. In the next weeks Gary and I will be attending a place and sifting through 91 years of history. The last laugh was from Dad, because I’m sure we will hear him say – “Why are you throwing that out – I might need it someday”. The family thanks you for being here to refresh your own memories of Bert and to celebrate his life. EULOGY 2 - Gary Who was my father? I thought today that I would answer this question by giving you a few stories to illustrate Dad’s life. My brother told you earlier that our dad was a man brought up in the depression who lived all his life in 12 Union Street Balmain. Dad remembered a different sort of Balmain. Where gangs of kids in 1920s and 30s had territories, of building boats out of corrugated iron and tar, of a coal mine operating in Balmain which went under the harbour and where it was claimed that you could here ships passing overhead. He could even remember an orchard in Balmain. In jest one year I suggested that we should buy him a ticket to climb the harbour bridge to which he replied, why would I want that - I climbed to the top of the bridge when it was first open in 1932. In his later years, he was a man who liked to talk about these old days in Balmain, his time working for the railways, about politics and current affairs. He like to talk so much that sometimes we had to send in a rescue party to save the person he had cornered at a family gathering. Dad could also be a real charmer. He particularly enjoyed his friendship with Minna, they met on a historical walking tour of Sydney. They were both recently widowed and they enjoyed each other company. In particular, I believed that he enjoyed basking in the attention of being the only man in Minna’s regular ladies lunch group. On the other hand he was a hard man to work with - he had been trained as a pattern maker - a trade where he was required to make precise models in wood that were then fabricated in metal for ship building. This training never left him - everything had to be precise and done in a certain way, his way. It would upset him if say a fence he was building was a few millimetres out; as a consequence a lot of jobs got started but were never finished around the house. Only a few years ago as my brother and I were up on his roof replacing some corrugated iron to fix a leak. Although even then a bit unsteady on his feet, he climbed up on the roof against our protests just to tell us we were not doing the job his way and refused to come down until we did. My Dad and technology really did not mix well. Whether it was the computer, his mobile phone, his digital TV he really persevered hard until he successfully and utterly destroyed all the settings and the device would not work. We would then fix it and then he would destroy it and start the cycle again. I think the funniest story was when Dad got an electric lawn mover. Unfortunately, he just could not get it to work, he tried and tried, he cursed Bunning where he brought it. Finally he returned it, wanting to exchange it for another one but they had run out so he had to wait weeks before his got his replacement. Finally it arrived and he got it home only to find that this one also did not work either. He was really annoyed, he was going to complain to the Manager at Bunnings, how could they sell such a defective product. But luckily this time my brother was around, & straight away he found the fundamental problem of why the mover did not work. My father simply had not turn on the “on switch”. The car was another story. Up to the time he last when into hospital, he still drove his car. No one in the family would ride with him for fear of their life and for years we urged him to stop driving. But the car gave him greater independence which he fiercely wanted to retain. Dad did well looking after himself especially since he has lived alone for the last 22 years after my Mother had died. He was able to continue to live at home especially in his later years because he was a creature of routine. He went to town on certain days of the week, and I think on Thursdays he drove to Franklins at Drummoyne to do his shopping. He was even upset when we arranged for home care workers that visited him several times a week because it wreaked his routine and was against his sense of independence. He would not get them to do anything for him, he just sat them down and had a chat. We also arrange meal on wheels which he also cancelled because he preferred his own cooking. Dad felt if he stuck to his routine he could get by. He was like this all his life. As a kid I can remember, I could tell which day of the week it was by what we were eating for the evening meal - It was like lamb chops or cutlets on a Monday, steak and kidney pie on Wednesday and Fish on Friday. His local GP, Graeme Romans also had a lot to do with Dad being able to stay at home. He really looked after his well being and I thank him for care over the years to my father and my mother before him. In conclusion, my father was the last of his generation in our family. All of his brothers, sisters and their partners are now gone. He was typical person of his generation, a working man who fiercely valued his independence, with his life centred on his immediate family and friends.