Tony Waters Eulogy

Introduction

Welcome to the funeral service for my father, Anthony Gerald * Tony * Waters.

Dad always loved a good funeral, and he'd be incredibly disappointed to be missing this one, with so many of his beloved family and friends all here to talk to.

Dad passed away last Friday night, at the Papatoetoe Residential Care private hospital facility just at the other end of this street, where he's spent the last two and half years telling everyone exactly what to do and how to do it, as teachers do - especially retired ones. Our family would like to acknowledge the care and support the staff there have given Dad in his final years.

On behalf of dad’s family and friends it’s a honour for me to share a little about his life with you. I’ll start with his own words, followed by a few favourite memories from my sister Natalie, brother Gerald, his two grandchildren and a couple from myself.

In his words

Certainly, to summarize Dad's long and varied life is difficult. We’re fortunate to have help from the best person for the task – the man of the moment himself. In 2005 he recorded an interview with Bruce Ringer of South Auckland Research Center - some excepts from which provide a great overview of his life.

"I was born in the Franklin Memorial Hospital, Waiuku, on 24th of July 1929. I was the second child of Philip and Isabel Waters. My father was born in Patumahoe. His grandfather was one of the first European settlers – Philip Henry was his name. My grandmother, whom I knew very well, left me with great intimate details of the family in Ireland.

We lived right in the township, so my whole life centered around Waiuku. I used to love listening to stories, especially my grandmother and elderly people who frequented our place. I started school in a wet May, 1935. I remember the day because most of the mothers brought their children there and dropped them off, but of course my mother had two or three younger children. My elder sister dropped me in the classroom, and that was that.

I always remember a teacher who said he'd been around the world. I always dreamed then. I thought 'I'm going to go around the world one day!’

...

During the holidays, it was boring because you wouldn't go anywhere. Every second Friday was sale day, and cattle would come down our street, and often cattle would break away from mobs, and we used to love watching the drovers chasing after them and trying to get them back. Sometimes they'd get into paddocks if the gates were left open. So often we'd sneak out and open farm gates, hoping cattle would break from the mob and then we'd be able to watch the drovers chase them.

There were two air crashes in training flights in Waiuku which I saw the result of when I was at school in 1943 and 1944. I remember the one Warbrick on a training flight from Ardmore in August 1944. Many years later, I said to that family, you people should put a monument in memory of Barney. And strangely enough, it was only a few months ago, that eventuated. They unveiled a memorial on the golf course, just opposite Howden Street.

….

I decided to go and train to be a priest because I loved history and I used to read history books of great missionaries, Jesuits, who were the first to take Christianity into China and India. They had a college in Australia, and I went over there, and it was a great year. I learned a lot about life and discipline. Unfortunately, I got a bit run down and kept getting ill and was told to take a break.

I came back and worked in a bank for a while, then became a postman for about three years, and I managed to complete my (Masters degree in history) while working as a postman. I eventually became a teacher and never looked back. I loved teaching. I had 45 years in the classroom.

At the end of 1967, I resigned from Otahuhu College to go overseas and teach in London, and the principal said, whenever you want to come back, there'll be a job for you here.

I've lived in Papatoetoe since 1965, in the same house for thirty years. I'm living now on a third of an acre. It's lovely and quiet and peaceful, and you wouldn't know what was going on around you, but not many of those are left. I do book reviews, I'm secretary of the Papatoetoe Historical Society. I wrote the centenary history of Sacred Heart College. That was interesting, because I interviewed so many well-educated people, and got some great stories from them, especially chaps who had been to the war.

I occasionally get back to Waiuku. Mainly for funerals, strangely enough.

So I ended up being a teacher and managed to get around the world. But I would still say the beautiful green land with native bush on it, between Auckland and Waiuku, would be some on the finest pastoral land in the world."

So that was Dad in his own words. If you'd like to listen to the complete interview, we've made the recording and transcript available at waters.org.nz - that address is on your leaflet.

Memories from Natalie

"Dad met Mum right next door at Holy Cross church. They married on January 17 1976, and just celebrated their fortieth anniversary. They bonded over a shared love of books, and between them, have collected over four thousand. That's probably why I feel so at home in libraries. Dad loved looking after the section. He was famous in Papatoetoe for his open air bonfires. Until they were shut down after a visit from the council. Sorry, Dad, but it was for the best.

His other great love was the Sacred Heart College old boys association. I remember attending the launch of his centenary history, and he was just beaming with the pride of giving something back to the community who had given him so much. His favourite thing to do was phone everyone up every time he had some news about a fellow old boy, or some first XV scores to pass on.

Dad had an old school approach to fatherhood. It was basically about making sure the kids knew who was in charge – Mum – and also reminding everyone that it's better to be neat and tidy, than tight and needy. His Catholic faith was the centre of his life. He'd come in every night to say prayers with us before we went to sleep.

He was also an endless source of sometimes contradictory driving advice.

Have a go Joe, your mother won't know.

Better to be late than dead on time.

And his favourites - Look out! Stop! And Slow down! While holding on to the edges of the seat. Usually for such hazards as a piece of paper blowing across the road, or an uncertain looking child on the footpath.

Gerald said this is the reason all three of us are extremely calm drivers even in the face of total chaos in the car."

Memories from Gerald

"Dad taught at Otahuhu college for many years, but he also learned a few things.  One day when my brother and I were still young and innocent, Dad came home from work having learned a new skill. Earlier that afternoon, he had discovered his keys were locked in his car. A helpful young gentleman upon seeing Mr Waters in trouble, offered his services. A coat hanger was produced from his schoolbag and soon the car was open. Dad, of course, thought this was a neat trick and just had to know how this was done. As soon as he arrived home, it was “kids, kids, come and see this”

And that is how my brother and I learned how to steal a car, a useful life skill. I think Gerald even had to hotwire his friends car once after it was broken into.

Dad’s “useful life skills” did occasionally come in handy. While relief teaching at our school, he was locked out of a classroom. Following a quick lesson in breaking and entering, glass panes were removed from a slat window and a suitably sized student was posted through to unlock the door.

Dad was an active member of the church community at Holy Cross Parish. He picked up elderly parishioners, ushered latecomers to vacant seats, counted collection money, but most of all he liked to make people feel welcome. Anybody new was soon introduced around to people they didn’t know they knew. Dad had the rare talent of being able to establish connections between people. I think he had the life history of every person he had ever met stored away in his head. One of his many oft repeated sayings was “a stranger is a friend you haven’t met yet”.  A language barrier never stopped him either. He knew greetings in several pacific island languages, and would try them all out until he found himself understood."

Memories from his Grandchildren

My children, Amelia and Jona, have only known their grandad in the last few years since his first stroke. Still, his increasing frailty didn’t stop them developing a deep warmth and affection for eachother.

Amelia is a kind and affectionate young lady. She enjoyed telling grandad about school and her tennis endeavours, carrying on that family sporting tradition. Last year she conducted a successful interview on ancestors who’d served in the wars, for a school project - a great opportunity to get this information direct from the chief family historian.

Jona, like his grandad, is highly energetic and gregarious. To him, strangers are very much just friends he hasn’t met yet. He loved our boys trips to the rugby last year, helping push grandad around in his wheelchair.

Jona worked out where the chocolates were stored in his grandad’s room at PRC and learnt to ask nicely for one each visit … just like my siblings and I used to do, visiting our grandmother in the adjacent room there some 25 years earlier.

They were able to see their grandad on Sunday for their grandparents 40th wedding anniversary, then again on Thursday, the day before he died. His movement was very restricted after the final stroke last week, and they remarked that he looked much older than he had on Sunday. Their grandad wasn’t able to talk intelligibly and struggled with the energy required simply to stay alive, but when he saw his grandchildren there with him, he managed his very last toothless smile.

The relationship between grandfather and grandchildren was a wonderful thing they were able to share in their few years together.

Memories from me

It occurs to me the difficulty we have in summing up our dad’s long and full life when we’ve known him less than half his days.

I will eventually add to our family website the full *hour* of speeches from Dad’s 80th birthday we most appropriately held in the “Hall of Legends” at Eden Park six years ago.

I’ve always enjoyed the stories from my cousins about their adventures with their uncle Tony. I was amazed to hear you lot would spend school holidays alone with Uncle Tony in Piha .. I doubt my mother would every have entrusted us to his care more than a day or so.

He was 50 years older than me, but never showed it on the back yard cricket pitch or tennis court. I don’t think I ever beat him at tennis. I often tell other men getting on in their forties not to hesitate having kids - I think it work out ok for us.

I used to love following dad to Otahuhu College rugby on Saturdays, until it became difficult to share my loyalties with the even greater college around the corner, De La Salle. He would also take me to Marist and Auckland rugby games where I had the pleasure of enjoying his commentary for the entire upper western end of the south stand at Eden Park.

As a teenager of course I took for granted his driving me to tennis and hockey matches. He was a much better spectator than I am at my kids sport, where my nerves are on edge and self-control hangs in the balance … he’d be facing away from the pitch engrossed in a yarn with other parents, oblivious to progress of the competition.

In recent years it was a great privilege to return the favour, wheeling him onto the field at DLS to watch top quality 1st XV rugby. He enjoyed the games but even more enjoyed catching up with the other spectators that knew him, of course. One of the last was against his beloved alma mata Sacred Heart, which most appropriately ended in a draw.

I don’t remember much sincere advice coming from my father, even though he always seemed to be talking, but slowly I’ve come to realise the values he impressed on me so deeply:

• People come first.

• Always be genuine and hospitable.

• Life is about being of service.

• And one thing abundantly clear from the memories shared online since he’s passed away: People won’t remember what you did, but they’ll never forget how you made them feel.

Well dad, you made a lot of people feel welcome; included; special; inspired. Perhaps most of all thought, you made people laugh.

I have no doubt that long after we’ve said goodbye and given thanks for you today, you still will.