Joan Berry
Without Prejudice
She wasn't famous, she wasn't showy. She could talk on subjects that surprised, she was always curious, always loving and to her family and friends who today, said goodbye, for a final time, she was legend.
I first met her and her husband Bruce back in the seventies. My brother was getting engaged to a girl called Karin and Bruce and Joan Berry were Karin's parents. They made us all welcome to their home in Clarinda, so new an area that the end of the road was all dirt. And we all thought we had taken a trip to the country from the thriving metropolis of Oakleigh.
We all hung together then, my ex husband, my brother, Karin, Ilona, Ivan muncin, his sister Grace,
my exes sister, her boyfriend, some crazy cowboy poms, fencers that worked for us, that smoked hash as if they were auditioning for Midnight Express. It was the seventies, our soldiers were in Vietnam, in a world of protest, unrest, and disorder. We were all young and idealistic, and grew addicted to protest and the feeling that we were on the edge of a revolution. Langer was making speeches at Monash and the answer was somewhere, "Blowing in the Wind"
We played Melanie Safka and Frank Zappa (well the poms did) the rest of us thought it was nuts. We went to Portsea for New Years and rocked to Chain, bullied the police and stayed up all night
And red, gritty eyed. Watched the sun come up on Frankston beach.
Ted Mulry and Tea for the Tillerman played on the car radio as we travelled along in the XP station wagon with its gingham curtains to Karin and George's engagement. Joan and Bruce Berry were 2 of the most genuine people you could ever wish to meet. He was a music buff of the biggest order and we nicknamed him "Chuck".
He introduced us to Kris Kristofferson and a re invented Johnny Cash. My Dad to Merle Hagard who he adored until he died. George and Bruce spent hours in rapture with the music and Bruce had the best system around and the best speakers, he was fanatical about his music, his loved wife Joan,and their 6 kids. Their house was a hive of activity and kids, but spotless, unbelievably so, with that many kids. They al loved life.
And that was Joan's trade mark, her cleanliness, her cooking and her pride in her kids. She loved her man. She was a few years older than Bruce and looked like the librarian she once had been.
They had a great life and shockingly he died young, way too young, in his forties. She never had another man after that, she said she had had the best. She died two weeks ago after a short illness on what would have been Bruce and Joan's 59th wedding anniversary.
I cried for days when Bruce Berry died. I played Mickey Newbury's album he had copied for me for months. He was so young, so strong, so affectionate, a larger than life character who adored and was adoring. I loved him like my own Dad and I thank him for the music.
Joan stayed on her own for 32 years.
She was fun, always talking, always curious and interested. A loving Mum. Not a famous actress, celebrity, but an ordinary woman with an infinite capacity for fun and mischief. I went to her 70th birthday and as we walked arm in arm on south bank she told me she was still working. And as we went past an Agent Provocateur type shop complete with racy lingerie, she nodded at the teddy
In black lace.
" I keep on working so I can afford the pretty things in life, like that. It's the difference between luxury and basic life "
They wouldn't retire her, the council. They had an anti ageism policy, and her clients always asked for Joan. If she went on holidays they would patiently wait for her to return rather than have a replacement.
I remember playing chase around the house with hoses at the Berry's place. It always seemed to be Summer and always hot. I loved them both and I am glad for them they are joined together once again in Heaven.
And for Bruce and Joan I will repeat the lines I put in the paper when Bruce died after such a struggle to live.
"Close your eyes and let the sky come falling down, all around the light,
Let yourself be swept in to the ever yielding arms of the night
God bless them both and they be dancing somewhere on the edge of the world, young and beautiful and dancing cheek to cheek.
Love Janette
She wasn't famous, she wasn't showy. She could talk on subjects that surprised, she was always curious, always loving and to her family and friends who today, said goodbye, for a final time, she was legend.
I first met her and her husband Bruce back in the seventies. My brother was getting engaged to a girl called Karin and Bruce and Joan Berry were Karin's parents. They made us all welcome to their home in Clarinda, so new an area that the end of the road was all dirt. And we all thought we had taken a trip to the country from the thriving metropolis of Oakleigh.
We all hung together then, my ex husband, my brother, Karin, Ilona, Ivan muncin, his sister Grace,
my exes sister, her boyfriend, some crazy cowboy poms, fencers that worked for us, that smoked hash as if they were auditioning for Midnight Express. It was the seventies, our soldiers were in Vietnam, in a world of protest, unrest, and disorder. We were all young and idealistic, and grew addicted to protest and the feeling that we were on the edge of a revolution. Langer was making speeches at Monash and the answer was somewhere, "Blowing in the Wind"
We played Melanie Safka and Frank Zappa (well the poms did) the rest of us thought it was nuts. We went to Portsea for New Years and rocked to Chain, bullied the police and stayed up all night
And red, gritty eyed. Watched the sun come up on Frankston beach.
Ted Mulry and Tea for the Tillerman played on the car radio as we travelled along in the XP station wagon with its gingham curtains to Karin and George's engagement. Joan and Bruce Berry were 2 of the most genuine people you could ever wish to meet. He was a music buff of the biggest order and we nicknamed him "Chuck".
He introduced us to Kris Kristofferson and a re invented Johnny Cash. My Dad to Merle Hagard who he adored until he died. George and Bruce spent hours in rapture with the music and Bruce had the best system around and the best speakers, he was fanatical about his music, his loved wife Joan,and their 6 kids. Their house was a hive of activity and kids, but spotless, unbelievably so, with that many kids. They al loved life.
And that was Joan's trade mark, her cleanliness, her cooking and her pride in her kids. She loved her man. She was a few years older than Bruce and looked like the librarian she once had been.
They had a great life and shockingly he died young, way too young, in his forties. She never had another man after that, she said she had had the best. She died two weeks ago after a short illness on what would have been Bruce and Joan's 59th wedding anniversary.
I cried for days when Bruce Berry died. I played Mickey Newbury's album he had copied for me for months. He was so young, so strong, so affectionate, a larger than life character who adored and was adoring. I loved him like my own Dad and I thank him for the music.
Joan stayed on her own for 32 years.
She was fun, always talking, always curious and interested. A loving Mum. Not a famous actress, celebrity, but an ordinary woman with an infinite capacity for fun and mischief. I went to her 70th birthday and as we walked arm in arm on south bank she told me she was still working. And as we went past an Agent Provocateur type shop complete with racy lingerie, she nodded at the teddy
In black lace.
" I keep on working so I can afford the pretty things in life, like that. It's the difference between luxury and basic life "
They wouldn't retire her, the council. They had an anti ageism policy, and her clients always asked for Joan. If she went on holidays they would patiently wait for her to return rather than have a replacement.
I remember playing chase around the house with hoses at the Berry's place. It always seemed to be Summer and always hot. I loved them both and I am glad for them they are joined together once again in Heaven.
And for Bruce and Joan I will repeat the lines I put in the paper when Bruce died after such a struggle to live.
"Close your eyes and let the sky come falling down, all around the light,
Let yourself be swept in to the ever yielding arms of the night
God bless them both and they be dancing somewhere on the edge of the world, young and beautiful and dancing cheek to cheek.
Love Janette
