Line of Descent
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Geoffrey Neil Boddy
John Boddy
George Boddy
Alfred Boddy
Alfred Charles Boddy
Eric George Boddy
Geoffrey Neil Boddy
return to the Boddy Family Tree
- Birth:
- 8 July, 1932, Newcastle NSW
- Father:
- Eric George
Boddy (1905-2001)
- Mother:
- Anne Hammond (1908 - 1998)
- Marriage:
- Marie Griffin,
4 August 1956, St Peters Anglican Church,
- Hamilton NSW
- Children:
- Anthony John (1958 - )
- Gregory Allan Boddy (1959-2012).
- Death:
- 12 June 2020, Turramurra, NSW
- Burial:
- Newcastle Memorial Park, Beresfield
-
My dear father, Geoffrey Neil Boddy, died at Northaven, Turramurra,
on Friday 12 June 2020, after a protracted illness of the brain that
sadly gave him a great deal of trouble and difficulty.
This year he’s been oblivious to Covid-19, or the summer bushfires,
or the destructive floods and hailstorms. He’s been unaware of the
cancellation of all sports, the economic shut down, JobKeeper,
JobSeeker, the economic recession or the state of global politics. All
the calamities with which we may have concerned ourselves have been
irrelevant to his lived reality.
He was diagnosed with hydrocephalus at John Hunter Hospital in
Newcastle in 2014. His condition gave him no pain, but it put pressure
on his brain that caused him problems with his balance and walking. He
had many falls at his home at 7 Prospero Street Maryland and I’m very
grateful to his near neighbours who looked out for his welfare and
helped out when he was in trouble. I was so relieved when he accepted
that he couldn’t look after himself and that he wanted me to make
arrangements for him to move.
Since 2015, he’s been very well looked after at aged care facilities
run by Uniting: starting at Turramurra, then at St Ives for dementia
care and later back at Turramurra for end of life care.
Over the past five years, he slipped incrementally from 70kg down to
just 37kg as his body was gradually consumed by the random entropy
that comes with old age and disease. Worst of all, his thinking became
impaired. His alert, logical and resourceful mind became unplugged and
dismantled. He still recognised me and JoJo, but he was lost for words
and unable to engage.
His good humour stayed with him to the end. He smiled with his eyes
even when he was totally incapacitated.
On our last good day together, he lay scrunched up in bed and we
simply watched whatever was on TV; surfing the channels for any kind
of motorsport or football without any luck. He seemed to enjoy the
commercials more than the programming, staring at the big screen with
the kind of intensity and pleasure that I’m sure he enjoyed as a boy,
at the movie matinees on the Saturday afternoons of his childhood in
the 1930s and 40s.
Geoffrey Neil Boddy was born in Newcastle on Friday 8 July 1932, in a
private maternity hospital in Silsoe Street, Mayfield. This date was
right in the middle of the worst economic depression Australians had
ever seen, yet the hardships that many families experienced seemed to
be barely felt by the Boddy family. Geoff’s 26 year old father Eric
benefited from steady employment at his father Alfred Charles Boddy’s
general store at 63 Lindsay Street, Hamilton.
A couple of years previously, Eric had been able to build a new home
in which to start his married life at 4 Dorothy Street Hamilton.
Eric’s wife Anne Hammon was able to give up her retail job at Scotts
department store (on the corner of Hunter and Perkins Streets) to stay
at home and look after her newborn son Geoff full-time. The family
were seemingly never short of groceries or clothes. Geoff was lavished
with attention and as he grew he regularly sat for his portrait to be
taken at the Boddy family photographic studios, which were operated by
his great aunties May and Ethel Boddy.
My dad told me he had very happy memories of his early childhood
years. He had the run of the local neighbourhood, regularly going over
to Lindsay Street to visit his father at work at the Boddy’s store,
where there was an unlimited supply of Arnott’s biscuits on hand. Many
people may not know that the Arnott’s factory originated in Newcastle
and for my dad’s whole life, he was loyal to Arnott’s brand
products.
The Dorothy Street house was adjacent to the main Northern Line and
my dad used to enjoy playing on the railway tracks, much to his mother
Anne’s consternation. He told me he wasn’t scared of trains because
the rails would hum well before a steam engine would come thundering
along. Apparently, he learned by experiment that a 200 tonne train
could flatten a copper halfpenny really, really flat.
Eric and Anne delayed having a second child until they were
financially ready, so there was a five year gap until Geoff’s brother
Ken was born on Monday 15 November 1937. The whole family moved into a
brand new house at 273 Beaumont Street Hamilton South (below left
- it’s the very last house in that street) and young Geoff started
attending Merewether Public School, just up the hill in Henry Street
(below right). On his first day there, Geoff met boys his age
who were to become life-long friends: in particular Colin Richardson
and Owen Anderson. They bonded during their childhood and remained
very close throughout their long lives.
My Dad’s other close friend was his cousin John Hawson, who was born just a couple of weeks after Geoff. He lived nearby with his parents Alf and Mary at 445 Glebe Road Merewether. As teenagers, Geoff and John would play soccer on opposing sides: Geoff for Merewether and John for Adamstown. They were hard fought matches, for no reward apart from the joy of exercise and the thrill of competition.
Geoff’s grandfather Alfred Charles Boddy owned a waterfront property on
Lake Macquarie at Coal Point. Geoff and Ken frequently spent idyllic
weekends and school holidays there, swimming and playing with their
cousins.
Unfortunately, Geoff’s education was badly disrupted by World War Two. Geoff’s father Eric was a volunteer member of a Newcastle Light Horse cavalry regiment, which was mobilised on 28 April 1941. Eric’s storekeeping experience saw him appointed as a quartermaster. At age 35 Eric was posted to the Australian Supply Division at Werris Creek on 18 February 1942, three days after the Australians serving in Singapore were captured by the Japanese Army.
r
School of the Performing Arts). He later observed to me that all the
good teachers had gone off to war and many had been killed. He felt that
the people available to teach in 1945, 46 & 47 were incompetent or
unfit. Geoff suffered many thrashings from frustrated teachers with
canes, because he hadn't studied enough, didn't know every correct
answer, or simply displayed levity. The only subjects Geoff liked were
metalwork and woodwork, where he was skillful and creative. He
particularly didn’t enjoy subjects which required rote memorisation of
texts. He quickly lost interest in high school and became determined to
get out as soon as possible. It was a great pity that my dad did not
benefit from better educational opportunities. He had great enthusiasm
for complex technical subjects, but his curiosity about mechanical
things was not encouraged, and his natural skills were not nurtured by
his teachers.
On his 15th birthday, 8 July 1947, Geoff was finally free to leave
high school. He had no idea what he wanted to do, so his father Eric
took him into Hunter Street and the pair walked together down the main
shopping strip, stopping at various businesses to ask about
employment. Considering the Boddy family’s mercantile history, Eric
may have envisioned a retail sales job for his son.
They got as far as the block between Perkins street and Brown street, where they stopped at Caldwells The Jewellers, who were looking for a trainee watchmaker. Geoff’s favourite hobby was hand-building models of WW2 aircraft. He was quite dexterous, with careful attention to detail. Caldwells tried him out on a few simple manual tasks and his natural aptitude for working at fine scales became evident. Geoff got the job and entered into a six-year apprenticeship under the elderly Mr Norris. This entailed a correspondence course to study the theory and history of timekeeping, plus on-the-job training in practical repairs and parts manufacturing using a lathe and hand tools.
With his first pay packet, Geoff bought a pair of Beswick ceramic horse figurines as a gift for his mother Anne. They comprise a mare tending affectionately to her young foal, and they stood in each of Eric and Anne’s homes for the next 54 years.
With his subsequent savings, Geoff bought an ex-war surplus BSA M20 500cc motorcycle. This marked the beginning of a life-long involvement with motorcycling, in terms of both riding enjoyment and social activities. Geoff gave the BSA a paint job, overhauled its engine and then rode it everywhere for four years. He told me the coal-powered steam trains on the Newcastle-Civic-Wickham railway line parallel to Hunter Street spewed copious volumes of smoke and soot, which forced him to squint to avoid crashing. Aged 19 in 1951, Geoff sold the BSA and bought a brand new Norton Dominator 500, which was the top race-winning brand at the time. His mates Owen Anderson, Lons Anderson and John Hawson had each bought various motorcycles by now, so the group decided to ride to Coolangatta Queensland via the New England Highway in the summer of 1952. They slept under the stars, cooked over open fires and suffered mechanical breakdowns, but they arrived home knowing that they had shared a special experience they’d never forget.
Geoff’s
close friend from primary school, Colin Richardson, was more into
cars, so the pair drove in Colin’s convertible MG TC sports car all
the way to Adelaide and back. After they were safely home in Hamilton,
the boss at Caldwell’s offered to sell Geoff his near-new 1951 Hillman
Minx (left). This was an attractive proposition, the main thing
being that prospective girlfriends were far more likely to sit inside
a nice comfortable car than on the back of an awkward, windswept
motorcycle.
.
Geoff soon started to go to dances at Newcastle Town Hall. The popular musical style at the time was swing jazz and Geoff became quite a competent dancer. He went out with different girls from around the Newcastle district, but in 1954 he met a striking young woman named Marie Griffin, who had previously been living and working in Sydney. My dad told me she had the looks and figure of a movie star.
At the end of their first night out, Geoff drove Marie home to her parents’ place at Thornton, where the just-acquainted young couple were immediately steered towards a boozy party involving the nearby neighbours. Geoff was a tee-totaller but he was intrigued by Marie’s good looks and self-confidence. Marie told me decades later that she knew he was the one she was going to marry as soon as she saw him in the crowd at the dance.
Geoff proposed marriage to Marie at McPhillamy Park on top of Mount Panorama, during the Bathurst race meeting, Easter 1954. They were there with a bunch of their friends to see the car and motorcycle races, including stars such as Jack Brabham, Lex Davison and Stan Jones. Around 18,000 people were in attendance that weekend; sleeping in tents or in their cars and cooking around camp fires.
The
wedding date was 4 August 1956 at St Peters Anglican Church, in
Dennison Street Hamilton. Marie’s family were notionally Anglican,
while Geoff had been raised Baptist, but he’d quit as a teenager
because they forbade him from playing soccer on Sundays after
church.
The wedding reception was at Ocean Street, Dixon Park. Geoff and
Marie spent their honeymoon at Kirra Beach in Queensland, driving up
and back in the Hillman. They had to stop at several river crossings
and wait for motor ferries, so my dad took the opportunity to unbolt
the Hillman's cylinder head and de-coke the side-valve engine's
combustion chambers because he was hearing some pre-ignition under
wide open throttle on long uphill climbs.
They arrived well after dark and had to wake the landlord to get into the apartment they'd rented. They stayed two weeks, taking pictures on Kodak Ektachrome colour slide film using Geoff’s new Braun 35mm camera.
They later drove back south all the way to Fennell Bay, where they
moved into the vacated house in Lake Road belonging to the aunties May
and Ethel (who had by now retired and were holidaying in England for a
year).
Geoff selected a block of land to build a house in a new development in Merewether. The steep block, at 30 Kempster Road, was high on a ridge with spectacular views of the ocean and Newcastle’s beachside suburbs. Marie chose a ranch-style floor plan and selected the materials and colours. Eric helped Geoff excavate the foundations by hand, using picks and shovels.
My parents gave my brother and me comfortable, secure childhoods
where we knew we were loved. My dad worked retail hours, which meant
quite long days from Monday morning to Saturday afternoons, including
Thursday nights. My mother Marie was at home with us each day, just as
all the other young married mothers in our street were at home with
their children, so my brother and I would roam between houses and play
with the neighbours - feeling very safe because everyone knew everyone
else. The baker would deliver bread in a horse-drawn cart and the
green grocer would do the rounds in a covered lorry. We had a Pye
television set, an HMV record player and a Frigidaire refrigerator,
plus cats and goldfish to care for.
Our family would have two major driving holidays each year: one would
always be to Sydney and one would be in the countryside. We’d pile
into dad's Holden and visit somewhere different each time: Kings
Cross, Katoomba, Coffs Harbour, Canberra, Kiama, Manly, Shoal Bay, and
of course the big two: Mount Panorama and the Gold Coast.
In 1974, dad and mum sold the house on the hill and bought a large, newly-built, luxurious split-level townhouse at 5/7 Hall Street, close to Merewether Beach and The Junction shopping centre. This was their dream home for a decade and they relished its convenient location and stimulating design. However, in 1983 I moved to Sydney and in 1984 my brother got married, so mum and dad started planning for their retirement.
My mum now wanted a smaller home that was easier to maintain and my father wanted a much larger garage with a multifunction workshop. As they had done thirty years earlier, they bought an empty block of land in a new development, this time at 7 Prospero Street Maryland. Mum once again chose a suitable floor plan, then selected the materials and colours. Dad specified a garage that would give him enough space to work on cars, motorcycles, clocks, watches, model aircraft and aero instruments. They moved in 1985. They were 53yo. My dad cut back his working hours and they joined the National Trust and the Maryland Community Centre. They started visiting the Hunter Valley’s historic houses and they tried out new restaurants, vineyards and breweries. They often visited me in Sydney and explored the city’s historic sites.
My parents were overjoyed when my brother Greg and this wife Glen delivered two beautiful grandchildren; first Max in 1989 and then Jen in 1992. It was my parents' greatest pleasure to spend time with them.
My dad decided to retire completely after his 61st birthday in 1993. He wasn’t enjoying the work anymore and there were many adventures that he wanted to enjoy together with my mum. Watches and clocks had evolved into disposable electronic devices with no repairable mechanical parts and Caldwells’ watch department was struggling. Dad was given a warm send-off by all the staff at Caldwells and I helped him buy his first-ever new car: a VR Commodore sedan.
Sadly, my parents didn’t have much time together. Just six months
after my dad’s retirement, my mother Marie was rushed to hospital. She
died on 2 February 1994, of peritonitis due to diverticulitis.
My dad was devastated. His big plans for his retirement were void. He
couldn’t imagine a future for himself without his wife. He was left
with no goals and no motivation. He told me he cried a lot at home by
himself. For about two years, he was depressed and inactive. But
slowly, with the help of family and friends, his outlook picked up and
he started to find things to do.
He joined the vintage motorcycle club and the historic aviation society. Each weekend he’d be at a motorcycle show, a car show, or an air show. He tried gliding at Jerrys Plains. Ted Clements got him started flying remote controlled model aircraft by gifting him a Cadet high-wing monoplane.
Dad became friends with Harry Woolford of the well-known Woolford
watchmaking dynasty. Dad and Harry had shared many life-long interests
and experiences, except that Harry (being older) had actually been to
war as a young man. Harry was one of the last soldiers to enter Darwin
before the Japanese ceased their attacks. Harry tells me that when he
arrived, the Japanese retreated and that's absolutely not a
co-incidence.
Dad started building up a collection of motorcycles, starting with
John Hawson’s Norton 750 Commando. Dad also liked Triumphs. He had a
classic Thunderbird 650, a modern Sprint 955 and later a new Street
Triple 675.
For my dad’s 70th birthday in 2002, my brother Greg and I hired the restaurant at Noahs on Newcastle Beach. Around 70 friends and family celebrated his life and he was most touched and gratified.
Dad never stopped going up to Mount Panorama. In retirement, he went to the motorcycle rally there every Easter. One year, Greg and Max and I joined him and he was so proud of us all being together.
Dad was a member of Newcastle Aero Club and a regular visitor to Rutherford Aerodrome. He contributed to several Warbird restorations belonging to Col Pay, undertaking flying instrument repairs such as altimeters and air speed indicators. It was great pleasure for him to be involved with famous aircraft such as the Spitfire and the Kittyhawk that had enchanted him as a child.
Growing up during the Second World War had an huge influence on my dad's values and opinions. He supported the armed forces but had no time for politicians. He had simple solutions for complex problems: occasionally saying that any stalemate can be easily resolved with a carefully-aimed nuclear bomb.
My first wife Anna died on 27 December 2011 after a six-year illness involving early-onset Alzheimers dementia. My dad was a wonderful support to me and he helped me to deal with my grief and to overcome my depression, drawing on his experiences of recovery after losing Marie.
However, a huge blow hit us both just eight months later on 3 August
2012. Greg was killed in a traffic accident on his Harley-Davidson in
Queensland. Dad had introduced Greg and me to joy of riding
motorcycles back when we were teenagers and he now felt terribly
complicit in Greg’s death at the age of 52. My dad never recovered
from the shock of losing a son in such circumstances. He was 80 years
old and I don’t think he enjoyed much about his life after that loss.
My dad and I each decided to sell all our motorcycles after that. We
had seven in total between us and they all went to good homes via
friends of friends without any need to advertise.
Geoff on his 84th birthday
My dad’s eyesight wasn’t so sharp in his 80’s, so he stopped building
planes and fixing clocks. He returned to woodwork and made some
interesting stuff. His workshop, which had previously been spotlessly
clean to facilitate watchmaking, became coated in a thick layer of
sawdust.
My dad said he never wanted to end up in a nursing home, but
Hydrocephalus snuck up on him slowly. He understood the grim prognosis
quite clearly. It was inoperable at his age and he had to accept that
his own demise would be a drawn-out slow-motion decline towards
inevitable death.
In my wife Anna’s case of dementia, she felt fine even when she was quite debilitated. As for my dad, he was totally aware of his disabilities as they gradually overwhelmed him.
My dad was the last one of his old kindergarten classmates to pass
away, with Owen Anderson having only recently gone in February this
year after a long illness.
Dad would have turned 88 on 8 July.
I’d like to thank many people for helping out my dad in his final
years:
- - my dad’s neighbours in Maryland (Herb and Dave and Barbara), for
often checking in on my dad and rushing to help him when he fell and
couldn’t get up.
- - Harry Woolford and his daughter Mary, who were always there for dad with friendship and support.
- - Lisa and Rod Morrison and Lisa’s father Ted Clements for helping with the transition to Aged Care in Sydney. JoJo and I greatly appreciate their kindness and thoughtful advice.
- - Uniting staff Belle, Claire and Jenny for years of exhausting
work managing my dad’s care. They gave my dad attention when I
couldn’t, 24/7.
- - Glen Newman and Max and Jen Boddy, for untiring emotional
support, plus their practical efforts during 2016 to clean and
renovate my dad’s house for sale.
- - My friend and best man Chris Wood, who was around when my
parents first moved into their new home at Maryland in 1985 and who
helped me move my dad out again in 2015.
- … and I’d like to thank my wife JoJo for her love, kindness and
patience over the past seven years. Problems shared became problems
halved.
- And finally, I’m very grateful to you for being here today to
share this commemoration with me. Thank you from my heart.
Anthony Boddy
24 June 2020