John Lanham
Well, here I am again, writing a Eulogy, 3rd year in a row, I have spent the last 3 nghts trying to condense our fathers life into pages. Taking snippets from Dads life story he wrote for us. But hey, this is going to be from the heart and my precious memories of a wonderful father.
Dad was born to Harold Edwin and Honoria Mary Lanham, in September 1934. Dad was named William John Lanham after Grandma’s brother, who died in Belgium in 1914. Dad was always known as Jack by his family and friends until meeting and marrying our mother, Faye Christine Jacobsen, in 1959. From then, Dad was known as John Lanham, except of course by his parents and brother, Ray, his wife Anne and daughter Elvira and Grammar School teachers and Students.
Well that brings to memory (not a nice one) – when we lived at the RGS, Dad was a housemaster, Peter was known as Jack, John middle Jack, Ray little Jack, and me… Fat Jack.
We all have fond memories of running wild during the school holidays when living at the Grammar School. Pool, trampolines, Recreation room at our convenience.
Even fonder memories of spending holidays in the 60’s and very early 70’s at Keppel Sands, fondly known as The Sand Hills. Mum and Dad would look after the shop and post office for Les and Thelma Knight in exchange for accommodation for the school holidays. We ran wild on the beach, swimming, hanging out with our cousins, and local kids. Dad would take us down to Armung chasing prawn. Ray being a little fella was taken down in the pram but made to walk home so Dad could put the sugar bags of prawns we caught in the pram.
One of Dads many stories was Peter saying to Mum “I didn’t know Dad swore until the bottom fell out of the bag when he was washing the prawns in the creek”.
Another of Dad’s stories from The Sand Hills, was when dragging the net, being chased up the beach by a sea snake and trying to get the bamboo pole out.
Dad was very engrossed in sport at the grammar school and was lucky to coach his eldest son, Peter many times. Dad and Peter played together for the Bouncers Basketball Club, of which Dad help form. Later also playing lawn bowls together. Dad played competitive basketball until he was 50. A well-known rocky player, Don Sheppard, told Ray, our father was the only player he really feared on the court. Pete and I used to go and watch Dad playing night fixtures. Climbing up into the scorer’s box and changing the scores. Wonderful memories.
Dad was also a foundation member of the Rockhampton Contract Bridge Club, later to be known as the Rockhampton Bridge Club. Dad and another foundation member convened the meeting, Mum being the first Treasurer of the club and Dad the first publicity Officer
When we lived at the grammar school, Dad started a bridge club there, Peter and his partner, Ian Dearden competing in a very early Rockhampton Bridge Club congress. I have vivid memories of the first Congress, convened and directed by Dad and held at the RGS. Players from Mackay billeted in the dorms as it was during the school holidays. Having to clean up after the Saturday and Sunday sessions. There was a barbeque pool party on the Saturday evening and dad would often retail the story of “cant remember her name”, an octogenarian, back stroking down the pool. When playing against Dell Ryan from Mackay the first congress often came up. Fond memories, and always stated as the best congress they had attended.
Memories of Mum and Dad going to bridge on Thursday nights for years. As we got older, thought they could rely on us older children to look after Ray. Well he is still with us. Often told stories to dad when having a whiskey with him when away at a congress/bridge holiday. Poor old fella shuddered.
Dad and I formed a formidable partnership after mum had passed. If only I had 100 bucks for every time Dad yelled “think”. Even Ray would text me “think” before a congress. Thought he was funny.
Dad, Mum, Peter Randall and Ron Lorraway were the only players in QBA history for a regional team to win the State Teams title. Dad obtained the rank of Grand Master, which Jan Randall made a celebration of it for Dad and us. Also, when the club celebrated its 50th Anniversary, Jan again made sure that Dad was honoured as a foundation member and a Grand Master. I honestly don’t think Dad knew how well liked he was at the club, but Stacey and I are very aware. I had a phone call this evening (Saturday), from Patsy telling me how Jan had organised a slideshow of photos of Dad from bridge over the last 54 years, and they held a minute’s silence. Jan was in Brisbane playing bridge, but still made sure that Dad’s passing and his contribution to our club was acknowledged.
I was very lucky to have got to play at the Gold Coast Congress numerous times with Dad. To have represented our Zone at the Grand National Open teams’ event numerous times at Tweed Heads, to have played in many congresses. To have been the best regional team in 2019 at the Zone teams playoffs with Petr and Jan Randall. Dad and I played the weekend before his stroke, at the Yeppoon Congress coming 4th in the pairs. Not bad for a 90-year-old and his daughter. There is a bottle of wine won in the raffle that day, which we didn’t get to drink, but I’m sure we will pop it tonight. Dad had a stroke the following Wednesday, after playing Tuesday with his longtime partner Jenny, and then with Tom on the Wednesday afternoon. Dad was at the bridge table when it took him, and our heartfelt thanks to the members present who helped our father.
Dad was very proud of all his children and our achievements. There for us when we failed, always ready to help us. Usually we didn’t need to ask, Dad knew.
We always knew, but, since Dads stroke and his imminent passing, we realise just how loved and respected our Dad was. Old students kept in touch with Dad. Words attached to flowers I received from the RGS, “Jack would always be a Grammarian”.
Dad graduated from the University of Queensland with first class Honours. Dad loved his Latin – his passwords written in them. Pity he didn’t teach any of his children Latin so we could access stuff.
Dad should have carried the Olympic torch in 56 but declined as he was to have exams the next day. Study was his priority. Dad wanted to get honours. Which he did in one of the hardest courses. When Sydney was to host the Olympics in 2000 mum insisted that Dad apply to be a torch bearer. I still don’t know how she kept it quiet until it was officially announced. It was a very proud day for us to go and watch our Dad carry the torch, even if it was in an outfit that look like PJs.
It’s been a very hard 6 weeks for us his children. Dad lived his worst nightmare. The stoke left him unable to communicate properly. We witnessed his frustration. His pain. His anguish. We did get to celebrate Dad’s 90th birthday with him. When planning his party, Dad kept saying “If I’m still here”. Well if your not Dad, then we will have a good wake. Unfortunately, it’s the wake. We invite you to come have a drink, feed and lots of memories with us. Love you Daddy.