So in many ways yesterday was horrid. The hearse sat there and I did not know it was Brian. Because we had got there and we were just saying hello, to people; the setting was lovely because we so many of us looked colourful it could have been a good occasion except there was more poignancy to the hugs. But then this thing sat there a heavy beast. I did not know if it was Brian at first as someone else's name was on it - a little bit of advertising but nothing that said he is Brian. Even as we were going in, and the happy chatty band silenced it was hard to know why we there except for death's follower and the big box with flowers on it. Hard to think that my Dad was it in. But it felt like death. Seeing it come it I was worried tears would flow but the awareness that we were starting early and latecomers were being shut out distracted me from the awfulness of themoment. I hate it at funerals when the coffin comes in, and I hate it even more when the portals open and the coffin goes out. But once the person taking the funeral started talking out focus was her. And for us speakers the focus was our own need to I suppose try and do Dad proud.
Writing this has kept me focused for the last few days, shutting out the truth of why I was writing it, and even though writing it made me sad, I enjoyed researching it and practising it. All four siblings in the country spoke. My brother Ed such a revelation that I wanted to reach for my camera and video it. I figured it was bad form but wished I could have captured what he said on Brian's beginnings. Then my brother Nic on Brian's towering educational achievements. There was a message from my brother Tim, currently holidaying in Peru, and then Joe's lovely piece on Brian as a Dad.
My name is Ellie I am Brian's daughter. I am an OU graduate and a member of the U3A and I teach so Brian's life work has informed a lot of who I am. But today I want to share with you my memories of Brian - the Internationalist.
Most of you will know of Brian's deep seated bond with Scandinavia and with Finland, its neighbour, in particular. His interest in Finnish educational methods, politics, culture and music inspired him for over 60 years. He enjoyed that his work there was people o a range of backgrounds and ages. He felt it a great honour when his work with the Finnish Institute was recognised by his becoming a Knight of the White Rose of Finland in 1990. Brian and Joy went to Finland to receive the resplendent award. On their return the grandchildren were thrilled to see the sword that he had been given and which to our amazement he had got through customs.
Brian tried learning a bit of Finnish but it was a bit difficult - he could however, speak reasonable French. And it was in France that he found the seeds of what was to become the U3A as Brian explained, " I actually told Michael (Young that is) about my French visit over sandwiches in Bethnal Green. I had the Extra Mural Dept to run so he Michael ...and others ...went on to set up the National Body."
So Brian's work required time abroad, but one place he wasn't sure would welcome him was America. As a former communist party member he wasn't even sure he would get in. However, when the invite came - the man who brought Sesame Street to the UK enjoyed a successful trip.
It was one of the things that I liked about his personal History, this link with Sesame Street. And as a child I enjoyed visiting Brian - my Dad - in is various offices - for example on one visit we got to see the original Tardis. Years later I was fortunate to be invited to sit in on some of the initial meetings connected to the work that Brian did with the European Space Agency using satellite links to extend education. But the highlight of our working relationship was when we took part in the Nigerian Ugandan British Project Conference at Ibadan in Nigeria in 1986.
It was our first time in Africa and we both found it liberating and invigorating. Brian formed a great fraternal bond with Laolu Ogunniyi the TV producer and on our returned to the UK the Extra Mural dept. ran an innovative project with him bringing Nigerian children over to the UK to compare cultures.
Many of you will know Brian as a man in a suit, albeit with colourful ties (each sibling was wearing one and the funeral invite asked all to wear smart clothes and colourful ties and scarves) but in Nigeria he relaxed and had a full blown Nigerian outfit made including hat. Wearing it on route back from seeing one of the local Kings or Obas he realised he had left his British clothes behind. Whilst one of the hosts went back to retrieve it we stopped by the dusty road. As the sun began to set one of the drummers, who accompanied us everywhere, started a beat that weaved through all of us, including Brian - who plays a mean talking drum - sparking up a spontaneous dance party. It was a magic moment in an unforgettable trip.
Before I leave this worldwide whirlwind I want to take you back to 1968 to the Prague Spring. Brian had links with Czecholslovakia through his work and when the Russians invaded that country there was no Facebook or Instant Messaging - instead a brave soul recorded events, as they unfurled outside his window, on a tape that was then smuggled out of the country, into the UK to Brian. The Czechs trusted he would find a way to get the plight broadcast. The taped message described the tanks rolling down the road and ended, "Do not forget Czechoslovakia"
Around the world and in the UK there are people who will not forget my Dad, Brian Groombridge - Internationalist.
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