Richard Bunbury Stories
Here are stories and tributes to Richard. The videos were shot at our home in about 2006, and many of the comments that follow are from his celebration of life. They came about when Elaine, Richard’s mother thought he and I would have a lot in common, and that I would enjoy his stories. It never was a right idea to ignore an Elaine suggestion.
Here are four stories Richard shared
- His father’s stories in the war
- Camaraderie at a private school
- From teaching to law
- Law school
Once you’ve started the video , to choose from the playlist, click on the the lines at the top of the viewer.
The spectrum of people gathered here today to pay tribute to Richard – Family, friends, colleagues and acquaintances.
What are the most conspicuous features of his life and personality that are evident to all of us?
A very reflective person, on many different levels, but one of the most obvious on meeting him was his sense of appreciation, indeed of gratitude, for his personal circumstances.
Anyone listening to him in private conversation, and even in public addresses, will recall the very high regard that he expressed for his father.
I attended his 21st, and he opened his speech by saying that, ‘’When my father turned 21, he was in a PoW camp’’.
Having grown up in the 1960s surrounded by adults, many of whom, like his father, had served in WWII, he was endlessly intrigued by the magnitude of this conflict, and increasingly grateful for its outcome. He had a deep personal admiration for the courage and tenacity that his father had shown as a volunteer in the South African army during the war.
He was grateful, too, to his parents that they could send him to university to pursue his intellectual interests as a young man, knowing that his circumstances were so different to those of his father’s.
Even though he was so appreciative about his circumstances, he was never complacent, and he always brought a sense of passionate and critical urgency to the study of his three main interests, literature, law and politics.
When he first went to university, he focused initially on law, but he became more interested in literature. It was through this medium that he considered questions about how to live a fulfilling life, and how to balance the tensions that we all feel between the intellect and the emotions.
Having enjoyed the privilege that full time university study represents, he taught for a few years before moving to Canada with his family in 1978. In Vancouver, he accepted a position at York House School, teaching Grade 4 there until his return to South Africa in the late 1990s.
Some family and friends were surprised at his decision, thinking that his background and interests would incline him more towards teaching High School students.
But what Richard really enjoyed was that the students at this level have a spontaneous and joyful curiosity, where their energy can be captured and directed by what was central to Richard’s personality and passion, the life of the imagination.
For to him, it is the imagination that can transcend that which is limiting and constraining, creating the vision and prospects of a better future, as well as fostering a keener perception and insight, which can transform the individual’s personality.
As a Grade 4 teacher (in Canada, and more recently at AISJ), he of course taught subjects like Maths and Science, but his primary enthusiasm was reserved for English – speaking, reading, writing, all inspired by the centrality of the imagination. Teachers are concerned with curriculum development – what to teach, the rationale for teaching it, and how to teach it. They have to be methodical, know where they are going and how to get there.
Richard of course focused on all of this, and was conscientious about his preparation, but always felt that there was an important place in teaching for what was indeterminate – the role of chance, the unexpected inspiration and insight, the deviation from the planned route, the importance of an emotional exploration and an imaginative innovation, all of which elude the constraints of what is comprehensively planned and predictable.
He was often unorthodox, but this did not make him an obstructionist – for him, the future has to be open to what is surprisingly different and innovative, and all of this is captured in the notion of the imagination. It was this that sustained his passion and commitment in teaching.
What was the result of this? A vibrant, inspiring and memorable teacher, whose manner, disposition and (perhaps above all) his story telling abilities have endeared him to a couple of generations of students and colleagues.
Richard suspended his study of law as an undergraduate student, preferring literature, which led him into a career in teaching. However, about twelve years ago, his interest in law was rekindled, and in 1999, on his return to South Africa from Canada, he enrolled for a law degree at the University of the Witwatersrand as a full-time student, graduating cum laude in 2003. Qualifying as an attorney and an advocate, it is interesting to notice that Richard’s main legal interests really resided in jurisprudence (the philosophy of law) and in constitutional law, legal areas that are not popular with most lawyers (and are indeed not lucrative). What does this say to us about Richard’s personality and his disposition? Perhaps this:
Passionate as he was about ideas and the imagination, he also knew very keenly that we have to operate within the constraints of the world – sometimes we can transcend them, but much of the time we have to confront and manage them. From our personal to our professional to our social and political lives, we have to contend with frustration and adversity. Our emotions may often be joyful, but they are also frequently angry and resentful ones, arising within situations of conflict and these negative energies have to be channelled into a direction that is not destructive. We have to curb our explosive impulses, and bring our conflicts to some kind of rational resolution.
Whether as family, friends or colleagues, you will know how often Richard referred to the importance of legal structures, procedures and principles, because it is through these that he felt that we can best manage our conflicts and differences, to make our institutional, social and political lives more manageable and less destructive.
In many ways, these concerns became one of the hallmarks of Richard’s virtue. He combined an intellectual rigour with an emotional intensity, but always strove to keep some balance between the two, seeking to resolve differences through some kind of rational, legally informed procedure. When he was involved in this, such as in his work briefly as a criminal lawyer, he displayed resolution but also compassion, generosity and flexibility.
In his study of jurisprudence and constitutional law, he particularly liked the way in which these issues were developed and institutionalized in Roman law. But his interest in the Classical world of the Romans also seemed to lead him to embody some of the philosophy of the Roman poet and Epicurean, Horace, who is well known for his injunction, Carpe Diem, Seize the Day. Richard’s joy, buoyancy and optimism about his present and daily activities were always evident, and these didn’t seem to wane even in the depths of his illness.
This was captured so clearly and concisely by one of our colleagues at the school, Tim Musgrove. At the beginning of June, just a few days before the end of the school year, the School Board organized a cheese and wine party for all of the staff to celebrate the event. Richard managed to attend this party. Tim had not seen Richard for some time, and spoke to him at this party about how he was responding to his treatment. Tim was so moved by Richard’s optimism and resilience that he sent out a general e-mail to all of his colleagues at the school the next day, in which he wrote, “Richard was talking about how he can’t wait to get back to work here. He spoke with such passion and verve about teaching 4th grade English. He spoke about all the jobs he has done in his life, and then said this is by far the most satisfying occupation. His voice was soft but the emotion was undeniable. I can’t describe the way he spoke about teaching and watching his students grow because I am nowhere near as eloquent as Richard and I would do him an injustice to try, but he reminded me of why I do this job in the first place. Because I love it”. Tim’s comment goes to the heart of Richard’s attitude – he revelled in his work, found great fulfilment in it, living for the moment and for the class for which he was responsible. For him, seizing the day was what mattered – As Richard often said to us, his colleagues, and to his students, ‘’We’re going to have fun’’.
Those who visited Richard at home over the past six months were impressed by his fortitude – looking beyond his condition to maintain a sense of contact and involvement with the world beyond his confinement, practising the kind of transcendence that he always associated with the imagination.
In effect, he would say to his visitors, ‘’I don’t really want to talk about this illness – I’m doing OK’’
What have you been doing?
How are Liz and Merris (the curriculum planners and co-ordinators), doing with their curriculum development programme? Do you think we are on the right track with this? Don’t forget to bring me the readings that Liz and Merris want us to look at on differentiated teaching.
I’m really enjoying having the opportunity to read again one of my favourite books, Roman law in European History.
What do you think about the Julius Malema hate speech trial?
So as we pay our tribute to Richard here today, we do so with thanks and with an assurance. We thank him for:
The inspiration he has provided for us with his passionate interests.
His individual example of integrity and generosity.
His unflagging example of commitment in the classroom, and his engagement with colleagues and students, which never became jaded or bored.
His candid comments on many topics, and his stimulating and challenging perspectives on all the issues that have interested him and us
The abiding and particular memories that he has left with each and every one of us across the spectrum of family, friends, colleagues and acquaintances.
We would also offer him an assurance.
A couple of months ago, Richard commented in a quietly appreciative way that since the onset of his illness, he felt very loved. He said this with reference to the unconditional support that he has been given by his wife of 35 years, Anne, his uncle and aunt, Bill and Iris Harrison, his in-laws Julie, Susan and Tony, Philip and Karin, his mother-in – law, Peggy. He felt much gratitude, too, for the numerous visits from his sister Rosalind, who lives in Canada with their mother Elaine, who was here in South Africa with him during April this year. He was also very appreciative about the school’s generous and efficient provision for his needs during this time of prolonged difficulty. And, of course, he enjoyed the visits and telephone conversations with the many friends and colleagues concerned about him, particularly during these past six months.
But of course we would want to give him our assurance that he did not have to become mortally ill for us to love him, for in fact we always have.
I really enjoyed listening to Little Richard’s stories. I am his cousin’s daughter and only met him a couple of times as a child….it would have been lovely to have known him better.
In writing a tribute for you, I have organized memories of you to correspond with some letters of the alphabet.
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
A is for your wife, Annie, and for memory of the love that the two of you shared. You proposed to her with the line “I thee do love”. As a child, I watched you both marry in your casual clothes and the two of you were the perfect, unconventional but much admired couple
A is also for animation. You were a character with a capital C.
B is for Bravery. You showed great courage in fighting your illness. We salute you.
C is for comradeship. And what a comrade you have been. A line from the song “No one is completely on your side” by Whitney Houston just doesn’t apply in relation to you. You were always on my side. You would always back me with everything.
D is for the devotion that you showed family, friends and colleagues.
E is for Elaine, your Mom. The special love she has always had for you and will always have for you and for the life that you shared..
F is for family. We are all gathered here – some present, some absent but all with you in thought – to remember you always and share the love that each and every person has for you. A love that is truly overwhelming and that will remain with you always.
F is also for fairness. You were always a fair judge and a fair player.
G is for going on with our lives and moving on. This is what you would wish and what you would command us all to do. For each of us to fill our lives with purpose as you have always done. Each and every day.
H is for Hoot. What a hoot you have always been. You weren’t only a hoot. You were a laugh as well.
I is for intellect. We treasure your intellect – as sharp as a razor blade.
I is also for the imaginary friends you had as a child. My friend, you had quite an imagination that stretched into adulthood as well.
J is for joy and the jubilation that you always expressed in everything you did and said.
K is for knowledge. You had a love of acquiring knowledge and could read books at the speed of light and retain that knowledge
L is for Love. You were the most loving cousin and friend to me. And I have always observed you as the most loving husband, son, and uncle to everyone in the family. I never heard you say a bad word about anyone and this is a quality that is unique to you.
L is also for loyalty. You could be trusted and your comradeship ran deep. It was a unique quality – sparkling like a diamond.
L is also for law. And the passion you always had in fighting a case or making a point.
M is for your dear friend Mike Kissock. A friendship that spanned almost 4 decades and began in university. A quiet friendship of perfect comradeship. A friendship that will go on in spirit.
N is for noisy. You made a hell of a lot of noise of noise. And your noise will always be missed. Even now as I write, I hear you talking loudly in my mind.
N is also for your nieces and nephews that love you.
P is for Purpose. Your hell-bent sense of purpose was overwhelming. Reflected in everything you said and did. You not only were qualified and passionate about one professional endeavour but two – law and teaching. And the last conversation I ever had with you was to help guide my own sense of purpose in teaching. Everything about you was purposeful. And that sense of purpose will go on with you in spirit.
P is also for perfection. You were the perfect cousin to me and I can’t find any serious fault with you. Maybe I am blinded by love for you. You have just always been there for me. And were always there for everyone in totality. And if you had any flaws in your diamond structure character, they were minute and a part of being human.
Q is for quality. The quality of person that you were.
R is for Rosalind your sister. For the special love she has for you always. For the care she gave you while you were sick and for the life she shared with you.
S is for stories. You were the master of entertainment. And your legal stories were your best.
S is also for your strength of character and the sense of security that you gave everyone.
T is for teaching. And the immense impact your care had on many students over many years. One example of your expertise sticks in my mind. Richard, you once said to me, “If a pupil is writing in their diary, just gently ask them if you may look at their work. Don’t be invasive. Everything with the pupils should be gentle and quiet”. You were a man of great contrasts and many talents.
W is for wife. In Annie, you chose the perfect wife. Your love for each other was so deep, began in university days and sparkled each day. Even your names feel interchangeable and linked. Annie and Richard. Richard and Annie. Annie supported you through everything – through your law studies, your teaching activities and when you became ill.
W is also for why. Why did you have to leave us? I have asked this question before when a childhood friend of ours, Hazel, passed on at age thirty eight. She like you was the kindest person in the world and a straight A student as well. And the conclusion I came to was that she was desperately needed somewhere else. And I believe that this is true of you also. You are desperately needed somewhere else and your spirit will be felt here and as well as elsewhere.
I will think of you and love you always.
Richard was a young spirit and of strong will, and people like that typically live long lives irritating the younger generation. I always expected my kids were going to have to put up with Uncle Richard hogging all the gravy at thanksgiving dinners in Victoria well into their adult lives too.
I like to remember Richard from when I saw him regularly, and that was when he was in his twenties and thirties while I was growing up in North Vancouver. He was young, fit and full of “it”. He had a unique sense of fashion and a habit of scrunching up his face like a nasty witch.
The first time I met him that I recall I was about 4. He was the only adult I knew that traveled by bicycle. Being four years of age I couldn’t appreciate the distances he was traveling on his bike to get to where he was required to go on a daily basis. Now thinking about it I realize he was a little nuts because North Vancouver is not flat. It’s a mountain! You are either going up a hill or down a hill and it’s not the driest place. I’m sure that most South Africans that immigrated to Canada in the seventies didn’t add to the challenge by insisting they commute everywhere by bicycle. And, as though that wasn’t enough for him he decided to reside on an island and work on the mainland just to make it all the more interesting. Ahh Bowen Island… to me it will always be synonymous with Richard. He loved it.
Me being four years of age Richard deemed me mature enough and introduced me to the word “shit” and explained that I shouldn’t mention it to my parents… or at least, I shouldn’t mention that I heard it from him. Innocently I asked him why and he said because some people don’t like the word and get uptight about it but really it just means poo!
He used to call me “Egg-Nog” or change my name from “Oliver-Barret” to Oliver-Parrot” to get me riled up when I was a little guy. I used to get sooo mad but I must say ever since I’ve had an appreciation for teasing those around me and an ability to not take my self too seriously. I owe that to him.
At dinner one evening my Mother mentioned to me and my brother that if we didn’t eat our vegetables we’d grow up to look like Uncle Richard. And I remember thinking “I don’t want that.” It wasn’t that he was ugly or something, it was just that he scrunched his face up all the time and it gave him a hard look to a young boy. I must not have eaten enough vegetables because this is a habit that genetics or influence has passed on to me. I wouldn’t notice but my wife comments on it all the time and every time I think of Richard.
I remember my brother and I talking to Richard like he was one or our pals in the school ground telling him all the rude jokes we knew.
I remember Richard being enthusiastic about this culture he was exposed to in Canada. He was always analyzing it and comparing his upbringing or the society in South Africa to what me and my siblings experiences were. I felt special with him because I was the product of this Canadian culture that he respected and was constantly curious about. He’d mock my accent and get us riled up.
We had many great times over the years… at family gatherings; bbqs or brais; trips to Sudden Valley and swimming in the lake; Hiking on Bowen Island or north Vancouver; Walking Senben or going skiing but always discussing things. I must say ultimately Richard was a very thoughtful person.
Even though Richard and I hadn’t seen each other or spoken regularly over the last 15 years since he moved to South Africa I felt la strong connection every time we met. I was always at instant ease with Richard and our conversations were rich and spirited. He was what I imagined having a much older brother to be like. Another Male figure in the family that I could check myself against while growing up. He was very different sort from my Father, Alan, but still consistent with the core values I recognize in our clan.
Similar to a Father I didn’t always see eye to eye with Richard’s theories or attitudes but unlike a Father we’d converse or debate like chums. He was an adult that brought me into the adult fold earlier than most adults would. He had an ability to relate with the young. He would engage and encourage me, help me develop and become comfortable with my ideas and thoughts while introducing me to new ones. I really love him, respect him and will carry him with me always.
When my husband Amir asked me about my uncle Richard as an “uncle” I remembered him as always trying to scare us. It came quite easily for him, he would speak in a loud clear voice as a scare tactic . When we got older I realized he actually was quite sensitive. I first realized this a week before he moved back to South Africa, and we spent a lot of time together. We would go for coffee in the Egmont village in North Van, and I guess that’s were I got to see Richard as a friend not this Roald Dahl type character he pretended to be.
Some of my best memories growing up were with Richard.
Staying at Richard & Anne’s place on Bowen Is. as children was really the coolest thing to do. They had this very Canadian house, that had a loft with a hole in the ground down to the laundry. (Definitely would not live up to the childproof standards of today.) It was a child’s dream house. Situated on a hill surrounded by the woods. We always loved going there and were fond memories for Roxanne & I. He would always threaten us “You better not upset Annie… If you do…” Much to Anne’s embarrassment.
When we were a bit older and would stay at their house, Richard was given the job of storyteller. Richard would come in every night to tell us stories. Not your typical stories a grown up would tell young girls but rather more like stories a horrible older brother would tell to scare the bejeezus out of us. He told the most incredible ghost stories…. (Which he insisted were all true.) He was so calm cool and collected that you had no other option but to believe them. Nobody could tell a story like Richard!
In a very uncle fashion one Christmas he gave me a bag of Oreo cookies. I thought it was the best Christmas present ever.
Richard was an amazing uncle. He was so loyal and always looking out for you in a way that was contrary to his sometimes harsh words. Whenever I had a problem at school he would go to “sort” out the teacher(s), and would go on in a tough way of how he would take care of them…. Much to my disappointment would return to say how “sweet, pleasant the teacher was … and the teacher was actually a pretty young thing”
I am grateful for Richards influence in my life. His love of literature and insisting on us reading so our minds wouldn’t turn to mush.
He is missed and loved.
Absolutely brilliant