Valediction

Jacob Friedman - Ya’akov ben Aharon

25/12/15-4/08/06

Fondly referred to as Joking Jack or just Jack to his many friends, Jack one of 4 SAMVOA’s World War 2 Veterans sadly passed away on August 4, 2006. A man who with a boyish excitement was eagerly looking forward to sharing with us his war time experiences in particular and life in general. Unfortunately, that was not to happen but I am most grateful to Rabbi Jonathan Black (no relation) for providing us with a copy of Jack’s eulogy delivered at his funeral.

“ We invite SAMVOA, the South African Military Veterans Organisation of Australasia, to place a Protea, South Africa’s national flower on Jack’s coffin.

Enthusiastic, caring, effervescent, life loving, courageous, positive – some of the many adjectives, which have been used to describe Jack Friedmann.

We extend our deep sympathies to his son Bennett, to grandchildren Tamara, Ilan and Dion, and to the entire family.

Jack’s 90 th birthday was celebrated over several weeks, as such a milestone should be, but it was especially appropriate as so many people wanted to share such a special date with such a lovely man, and even more so, since, as it has sadly turned out, it was to be his last birthday.

That was also the last time he travelled to Auckland, to see his son Bennett and his family – I remember his determination, when the doctors told him he was not up to it. He did it, and he showed them. And they had great affection and respect for him – the doctors, the nurses, all the staff in the hospital, where they knew him well, and really seemed to enjoy treating him – and at his new home, Melaleuca Lodge, which he became so fond of and so much a part of. His wise philosophy was demonstrated by the fact that he and Freda had carefully decided to plan for the future – a future when one or other of them would be on their own. They had evaluated the various care homes and hostels in the area, and decided on Melaleuca Lodge, for the time when they might need it. And so, after so sadly losing his beloved Freda, life partner of almost 62 years of marriage, in 2005, he packed up the bungalow that had been their home since they arrived in Melbourne, and moved into the lodge. Immediately he became one of its most popular and no doubt its funniest resident, adding many more friends to his already long and international list!

Born in Pretoria on Christmas day, 1915, his father Aaron was a ship’s captain from Latvia who had sailed round the Cape and decided to settle there. It appears that Jack’s parents had eloped, since his mother’s older sister was not yet married and her parents would not allow her to be married first. They settled in Carolina in the Eastern Transvaal. Jack attributes much of his positive philosophy and outlook on life to his father, who was always ready to help anyone in need, and to take his responsibility to society most seriously. Before long, Aaron became Mayor, as well as running the newsagent and teaching at the local Jewish children’s school – he led a committed and active part in both the Jewish and the wider community. Aaron took on many other roles in Carolina, just as Jack was later to do wherever his travels took him.

Jack was the youngest of three boys – his brother Harry was nine years his senior, and David was seven years older. When Jack was just three or four, the family visited Latvia to see their grandparents, uncles and aunts, nieces and nephews. Of course, in 1919, this was no easy journey, and took many weeks by sea. Jack remembered sitting for hours, carefully picking out the tar from between the decking to pass the time. After they returned, he heard that the ship had sunk. For years he was struck with guilt, fearing it was entirely his fault, until finally realising that the ship had hit a mine left over from the war! They moved to Cape Town, and lived in the seaside suburb of Clifton. The family was quite religious, and Jack’s habit of regular weekly attendance at synagogue had become the norm. To attend he had to travel 15 km and cross a mountain range, something taken for granted today but no mean feat all those years ago.

He attended school at a premier boy’s school, known as SACS. Here, his journalistic as well as entrepreneurial skills began to show – he started to produce and sell a school newsletter, complete with news and his own poems, and illustrated with cartoons that he would draw. He followed in his brother David’s footsteps by joining the South African Press Association. Another family from Latvia also attended their local Synagogue, and during one memorable Yom Kippur he arranged by discreet hand signals with an attractive young woman in the gallery, a daughter of this family, to meet outside. This was Freda, and they seem to hit it off immediately. Unfortunately, the Second World War intervened, and Jack attached to an Air Squadron went off to be a war correspondent, sending information back to the Press Association as various enemy airfields were captured. In the middle of the war, on the 4 th July 1943, during temporary leave, he briefly returned to South Africa to marry Freda.

On one occasion, which he told me about, he was taken on a flight and told to sit in the rear gunner’s position. A second plane also participated in the mission, and was shot at, receiving major damage in precisely the rear gunner position he was occupying in the first plane. In one of those inexplicable instances, which we lamely call coincidence, Freda awoke from a nightmare about him being killed at just that time, they later discovered. In another story, his squadron came across a destroyed German camp, and he found a Torah scroll, which had been cut up for use as toilet paper. He was able to save some and return it with him to South Africa, where we believe it is now in the Kaplan Institute in Cape Town. It was from Genesis, and included the phrase ‘it is not good for man to live alone’. Aside from his journalistic experience, I don’t know if there was any other reason why he was given this role, but, in his modest and self-deprecating way, he told me that on his return, Freda, waiting as the troops came off the ship, was asked which soldier was hers. “I’m not sure”; she answered. Then one stumbled as he walked down the gangplank. “That’s Jack”, she announced!

On his return, he continued to work for the Press Association as well as Reuters, but now in Johannesburg, as Freda was working in the Transvaal. There was great joy when a daughter was born, and called Renee. Soon after, they packed up their belongings into their Morris Minor and started the long drive back to Cape Town, where they settled in an area for returned servicemen called Bergvliet. There they found affordable accommodation in a flat above a shop, and so took on the shop as well. It was named Pages and Perms, and Jack and Freda developed it into a busy village store with school uniforms, bus tickets, sweets and provisions – whatever people needed. Jack would spend six months a year at the shop, and six months a year reporting from Parliament. They became involved in everything – primary and secondary schools, drama, local sports and dance clubs, Lions, and writers circle – and no prizes for guessing who established a local newssheet, known as the Bergvliet Bulletin, and now absorbed into the Argos Group of newspapers. Jack and Freda became affectionately known as the Mayor and Mayoress of Bergvliet. 4 years after moving there, a brother for Renee, Bennett, arrived. Jack was a keen but low scoring cricket player, and started playing hockey in his 40s, though he didn’t score a goal until his seventies!

Rabbi David Sherman visited the area from the progressive congregation on the other side of town, and Jack and Freda became involved in establishing a local offshoot in Wynberg , a congregation still existing to this day. There Bennett his son celebrated his Bar Mitzvah, and Jack was able to continue his weekly attendance and support, and of course find another circle of friends and a ready audience for his stories and jokes. When he was 55, he was offered a job in Public Relations for an Afrikaans Insurance Company, Sanlam. He took this opportunity for a career change, though it was not an easy transition, nor perhaps the easiest environment.

In 1993, Jack and Freda celebrated their Golden Anniversary by visiting their daughter Renee, who had come to Melbourne, and their son Bennett, who had moved to New Zealand. Although Jack had generally been optimistic about South Africa, the transition of Government and the fact that their family had moved eastwards meant that they were now contemplating a move, and had applied to immigrate to both Australia and New Zealand. Luckily for us, the Australian permit came through first, and in 1994, at almost 80 years of age, they prepared to leave Bergvliet. They were astonished and touched deeply by the affection shown by the 100s of people who paid to come to their surprise farewell gathering, and indeed the community has continued to cover their exploits and will no doubt be saddened by this final chapter. Indeed, you probably know that Jack’s death was erroneously announced a couple of years ago – an error that greatly amused him and was subsequently reported in the paper here. And just last year, the South African press reported that Jack had been in hospital, where he was still teasing the nurses! In fact though, Jack was not only teasing, but also supporting and encouraging, and trying to make people’s lives easier, willing them to a speedy recovery. One of the staff at Melaluca Lodge says he was an inspiration to her, when she was diagnosed with cancer and had to face chemotherapy and radiotherapy, and the number of people he helped and influenced over his life is way beyond number. His philosophy was clear and straightforward. Don’t despair, but let life carry you on, be grateful for what you do have, and celebrate it.

Arriving in Australia was not easy, and Jack’s hopes of getting employment at 79, even with his wealth of experience, were soon dashed. He wondered whether they had done the right thing. Soon he had built a growing circle of new friends, not least at the Leo Baeck Centre in East Kew. He once more became involved in local community initiatives, where his drive, vision and expertise were welcomed and appreciated. He was assistant area manager of the Doncaster Neighbourhood watch for 5 years, for which he received a Menzies community award. He helped establish the East Doncaster Community Bank, and was a leading member of the Doncaster RSL, another area where he will indeed be sorely missed. He had been Assistant Secretary, Membership Officer, Treasurer, Minute secretary, and held various other positions. Jack was an amazing, yet a modest man. He loved a party, be it wedding, birthday, or anniversary, and would pen a suitable poem in minutes. Often he was called on to be the master of ceremonies. But let us not forget the strength and love and support that he gained from Freda, the woman behind the man, and how hard it was for him to continue when she died. Especially to have to deal with the terrible anxiety as he saw his beloved daughter Renee suffer from cancer, and to watch as she slowly and painfully slipped from his grasp, and from this world, without Freda to share his pain. Yet, this is what he would have wanted – he would never have wanted her to suffer the loss of her daughter.

Jack had been working on his biography – he was just at the stage of final editing, and we hope that soon it will be published by the Makor Library, to take its rightful place as part of the story of the Jewish community of Australia. Typically, he entitled it ‘Life is for Laughter’, though, recognising the cruel blows dealt to him over the past few years, he added the qualifying sub-title ‘Well mostly, anyway’.

I can think of no more appropriate way to conclude than with a few of Jack’s own words - one of his most recent poems, which he wrote in April for a seminar which we ran about Aging Positively – for which one could not imagine a better example. He called it ‘On Getting Old’:

It isn't hard to reach a stage

Which most of us would call Old Age.

Now that has been my very lot

And so - it's ninety years I've got.

I pride myself I know my name -

For home address it's just the same.

However, now my memory's thin -

Have I gone out, or just come in?

I hold a letter - am I deceived:

Is it for post - or just received?

My dentures now each day I shine

And if they fit, I know they're mine.

 

One thing now - because of age

Some folk believe that I'm a sage

So what I find is very nice

I'm asked at times to give advice:

So if it's joy in life you're after

Just try and spread a little laughter.

Make others happy - then you'll know

That that's the way you have to go.

 

When you are faced with grief extreme

Recall that life’s a rolling stream

Which carries with it

all mankind:

The young, the old; the rich, the poor;

The strong, the weak; the sad, the glad.

 

When grief invades your daily life

Upon that river's bank you may

Rest awhile - To shed unbidden tears;

But do not tarry long – or too much sigh

Lest Life's great stream should pass you by.

The service was concluded by Neil Guppy, a very special friend of Jack’s from the Doncaster RSL.

Jack, a remarkable man. Lest we forget

Mike Black

 

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