Tom's Tribute

Ron Hunt to me was a welcoming, caring/sharing gentleman – Please let me take some of your time, as I would like to explain.
I remember my first time being greeted at the front door of his home in Chewings St. It was with an extended arm, a firm hand shake & a glint in his eye, as he said, "welcome sport". I recall thinking back then that there was more to this man, & sure enough there was. Sometime during the course of that first impression a baseball bat was introduced to me via a good few slaps into that same extended hand I shook earlier on. I look back now and smile at that memory seeing that it was his subtle, yet gentle way of telling me that he wanted his daughter Beth, looked after, home at a reasonable time and brought back the way she had left. It struck me that this man truly loved his daughter.

From that first intrepid meeting, I was welcomed back by Ron, Joan & his family many a time. Over the next few years I got to see what it was truly like to live in a home that was closely knit, surrounded by love and upheld a Christian faith, albeit slightly foreign to me, I was somehow drawn to it.
Often I would find myself sharing weekends down at the South Coast at Pretty Beach with the Hunt family – We would often play cards til the wee small hours, go for a swim or just laze around. But! the best for Mark & I would be to wander down with Ron to the ledge and wet a line. Of course it was a bonus to catch a fish, however, the real joy was just hanging out, swapping stories and just getting to know one another. It was during this time that when he would welcome me into his home with that extended arm and firm shake, I would call him "Boss" – he really seemed to like that tag. He would refer to me as Tom Tom.

Sometime back then when I thought that Beth could be the girl for me, I swiped that baseball bat, thinking I could get back at the boss one day. Around five years later I did, I gave it back to him on our wedding day, saying you won’t need this for me any more.
One of my proudest memories of the boss was when he was present at the birth of our first child Steve - welcoming him into the world. This act was a loving gesture, as he was not allowed to be present at the birth of his two daughters. We all cried for joy as Steve took his first breath. Although not present at the births of our other two children Leah & Ruben, The Boss was there in spirit, patiently waiting outside for any news. As our family grew, almost every time we would visit the Chewings St home, the kids would race to the front door to ring the bell just to hear him say out loud "whose dinging my donga?" – the kids and us would all laugh. It was a great lark. He would welcome us all in, sometime when, I don’t really recall I started referring to him as Poppy, it just seemed fitting.

I’ve spent a lot of time with Poppy over the years. Whether it be mowing the lawns, taking the rubbish out to the tip, pruning the fruit trees or picking the mulberries. I learnt a few important lessons from him, one was - you never rush into anything – he was a great procrastinator, not in a negative way, more a thoughtful way. He taught me, that there was a lot to perspective. Secondly – he taught me about forgiveness, on more than one occasion on our sojourns out to the tip or wherever it might have been, somehow or another, Poppy managed to or I managed to get him injured. He never tore strips off me or called me a bad name. He just forgave me, no matter how much it may of hurt him. He was like that. The girls almost got to the stage of banning us going out together for fear of only on of us coming back intact.

It was about 10 years ago I lost my father. I was never really close to him. I saw in Poppy many wonderful traits that I knew where sorely lacking in me because of my upbringing. He became my mentor, and as the years have progressed we became very close. When he would greet me at his front door, I would call him pop because he had replaced the father I had lost. The hand shakes where still there, but a hug was also thrown in. The girls would often say, why don’t you give him a kiss too. We just looked at each other knowing that a line had to be drawn somewhere.

In Pop’s final year, he took me further under his wing as we enjoyed many a sunny afternoon at the Belconnen bowling club, having a roll up. He was the master and I again his apprentice. Just the way I and I do believe he liked it. I am only sorry now that I didn’t do this sooner. We made a pretty good team.

It would be remiss of me not to take the time and give credence to Pop’s wonderful sense of humour and his sharp wit. He had a yarn for all occasions and I reckon between us all here today we would have heard them all.
I thank God for bringing Pop into my life, for I know that I am a much better man today because of who he was and the void he filled in my life.