ORDER OF SERVICE FOR THE
FUNERAL OF THE LATE CHRIS THORPE
Presiding: John Alexander
Organist: Jean Herald
Entry of the priest to the saying of Scriptural Sentences John
Welcome and Opening Prayer John
Opening Hymn: Amazing Grace Jean
First Reading: Psalm 23 Emily Thorpe
Tributes:
Tribute by Vivienne Thorpe:
Thank you everyone for coming. Chris would be moved by your support.
We are here to celebrate the 76 years of Chris's life, a life so full that it is difficult to know where to start.
Henry David Thoreau's comment on ageing perhaps sums up what I am going to share with you today.
"One does not GROW old. When one ceases to grow, one BECOMES old."
And Chris did not stop growing.
Chris matriculated from Durban High School in 1964 and went straight into the South African Defence Force to do his national service. It was during this nine months that his latent leadership qualities were first revealed. He became a junior officer and at the request of his commandant, delivered a lecture to his fellows on the current political situation in southern Africa. This interest, which later widened into an interest in world affairs, remained with him throughout his life.
Four years later, having completed his studies at the University of Natal in Durban, he entered the classroom again, this time as a geography teacher to high school pupils. His dedication to his subject, combined with his unruffled approach to problems and his organisational skills, ensured that he rose rapidly through the ranks to take up the reins at Amanzimtoti High School at the age of 40, thus becoming one of the youngest headmasters in the Natal Education Department. In the years to follow, he held six similar posts, in state and private schools, in South Africa and in Botswana and Swaziland.
But what is of ultimate importance in all leadership roles is compassion and humility. Chris had a loud voice and commanding presence, but these were balanced by a love for his pupils and an awareness that good was to be found in even the most troublesome of his charges, and talents even in those who had been written off as mediocre. For this reason he introduced a Headmaster's Award, which was presented to those who were clearly giving of their best. As a judge of character, Chris was seldom mistaken. He was often criticised by his management team for selecting as school prefects the "villains" of the student body, but his choices were vindicated when their subsequent performances proved that all they had needed was a chance to show their worth.
Chris stood down from heading schools at the end of 2005, but his passion for teaching remained. The years between 2006 and 2014 saw him back in the classroom, this time as an ordinary teacher once more, firstly at Carter High School in Pietermaritzburg and finally at Howick High School, where he had been principal in the early 1990s. As a teacher again, he continued to inspire his pupils with his enthusiasm for his subject and humorous anecdotes based on his extensive travels in Europe and in the UK.
We all had questions when Chris retired at the end of 2014. Surely he would be bored? What would happen to his energy and drive, to his thirst for new exp?eriences and his need for involvement with people? What actually happened was a fresh surge of growth, this time in a new world - the world of Amber Valley. Here, unexpectedly he found hitherto unsuspected interests, and talents that had formerly been buried deep.
I wonder how many of you recall those early quizzes, and the occasionally below-the-belt jokes from the quizmaster, which were interspersed with the questions? Or the first production of Blikkiesfontein Blues, where the inimitable Konstabel Kris only now and again lost his lines? But if you are a more recent arrival in Amber Valley, your experience of the Blikkiesfontein saga will be limited to numbers 2 and 3, both written by Chris, which played to packed houses and had the audiences in stitches. Or perhaps you recall Chris's rich tenor voice ringing out in concerts presented by the Dargle Singers? No? Perhaps, then, you were participants in his monthly Current Affairs group, which met under the auspices of U3A?
And here I pause to share with you a tribute from Marie Miller, secretary of U3A, which she wrote on hearing of Chris's passing. Referring to his attendance at a Convenors' meeting of U3A a mere 18 hours before he left us, she commented, "He looked so desperately frail but he was his usual chipper self and had us all giggling at his own special quirky humour when he was reporting on the activities of his Current Affairs Group".
She goes on to praise his "indomitable spirit", which impelled him never to succumb to his failing health, even when day-to-day life became a challenge.
On the lighter side. it was this very spirit which made his last weeks an adventure for those close to him. He insisted on continuing to drive, and shopping expeditions with him at the wheel were not for the faint hearted. But every day he diligently spent his half hour at the gym in Amber Lee and of an evening, over our customary glass of wine on the patio, he would regale me with snippets about his his fellow fitness seekers.
These evenings will be empty now. The house will miss the buzz of discussion and altercation which characterised the Current
Affairs meetings on the third Tuesday of every month.
And Chris, we will miss you.
Tribute by James Thorpe:
Allow me to introduce myself. I am James son of Chris son of Royal.
And we're here to honour Chris, son of Royal.
It's an unusual way to put it; it sounds formal and sentimental; and though I have cried a lot in the last 7 days I'm not a sentimental person. But I have found myself reflecting a great deal on fatherhood over the last week.
Many of you will know my dad from interactions with him in other facets of his life. Perhaps as a friend, a colleague, a former pupil, a relative... Or, more recently, someone who's been entertained by the amber valley drama society or engaged in current affairs discussions in Dad’s U3A group.
And each will have experienced a slightly different side of my Dad. And it's been wonderful to hear some of those stories and thoughts and comments from those expressing their support over the last week. Thank you.
But I am Chris's son. So from that perspective, allow me to share
I had a big dad. He seemed huge to us children and I think some of my friends were scared of him. Which was kind of nice.
One of my earliest memories was of some trip we took while living in Greece where for some reason my mum couldn't come along and it was just my dad and Jacqui and I. And we were exploring some dolomite caves. The caves had pools of water which we were crossing in a shallow boat with dolomite formations all around and stalagmites growing up from the bottom of the pools. And I can remember Jacqui and I saying nervously to my dad the whole time daddy can you stand here? What I'm sure was supposed to be a great adventure for us turned out to be quite nerve-wracking it seems and I'm sure almost annoying for my dad to have to keep reassuring us. But it does remind me of that wonderful time when your father is larger than life and can solve any problem.
So he was big. And he was an authority figure. But I don't think we were ever scared of him. And that was something else that I learnt from him. Fear is not the same as respect. Someone who follows you out of fear will only do so as long as they fear you. Rightfully earned respect will last long after your superior physical, intellectual or social status fades.
Dad was extremely patient and gracious with me. I would say with us but I don't recall him having to be patient with Jacqui…. and anyway perhaps she remembers it differently.
From a very young age I was fascinated with any type of gadget and would systematically dismantle any I could get my hands on. These were often found in my dad’s study.
Mum and Jacqui will remember the phrase that he was fond of using when he discovered the pieces that I couldn't reassemble or some of his favourite music that I’d recorded over. He used to say, with great exasperation … “Nothing is sacred.”
It was one of many phrases my Dad passed on. Sadly, my wife doesn’t often wear pink fluffy slippers… but if she does, I’ll be obliged, by family tradition, to refer to them affectionately as “brothel-creepers”.
There are others for tight pants and expressing how cold it is that I probably shouldn’t share.
Dad used to often tell us about his father.
Grandpa Thorpe to us.
He loved his dad and had a huge amount of respect for him.
But he was keenly aware of his dad's failings and was anxious not to repeat those patterns.
That's why I started by introducing myself as James son of Chris son of Royal.
Grandpa Thorpe's name was Royal.
And while it is good and right to try to improve on unhelpful patterns and character traits, it is also a wonderful and humbling thing to reflect on how your parents have shaped and influenced you.
It surprised me to discover that even now I wanted my dad to be proud of me.
Even though we'd come to a point where I could almost be a dad to my dad.
Fixing things he couldn't fix, helping him with technical stuff, backing the car out of the driveway.
But despite reaching a point where he was more dependent on me than I on him, our relationship didn't suffer for it... If anything it improved.
And I think that comes back to the respect that I mentioned earlier.
I respected dad, not out of fear or for his superior ability.
But for the qualities that made him unique… that we all loved.
Dad's grandkids were an absolute joy to him.
Mum and Dad have made such an effort attending plays and choirs and sporting events that even to us parents have seemed a little long or tiring.
Just a couple of weeks ago he was at the beach with us sitting patiently under the umbrella watching everyone playing in the sea.
And the kids' demonstrative behaviour toward Gramps was always wonderful to watch.
I don't think there was a lot of hugging in Royal Thorpe's household.
But if there wasn't, the last 14 years of Chris Thorpe's life have been full to the brim of hugs.
Dad's passing was rather sudden and unexpected.
But I don't think anything was left undone or unsaid.
My mum spoke about how worried we were when dad retired.
Teaching had been such a fulfilling part of his life.
And what she didn't add was the memory that played on all of our minds - the recollection that once Dad’s father, grandpa Thorpe had stopped working he had seemed to lose confidence and purpose.
But Chris didn't follow that path. He has resolved not to.
And in many ways, though different, I believe his final years were his best.
Well done dad.
Rest in peace.
Poem Reading by Jacqui Thorpe:
DONT THINK OF HIM AS GONE AWAY
Don’t think of him as gone away
his journey’s just begun,
life holds so many facets
this earth is only one.
Just think of him as resting
from the sorrows and the tears
in a place of warmth and comfort
where there are no days and years.
Think how he must be wishing
that we could know today
how nothing but our sadness
can really pass away.
And think of him as living
in the hearts of those he touched…
for nothing loved is ever lost
and he was loved so much.
Tribute by Emily Thorpe:
Gramps was a storyteller.
Like a library filled with books about sibling and students, of travels and unknown places. One book could be about the meeting of beautiful wife, another about long drives through Botswana.
Others are ones about little grandchildren, the excitement of staying over for the night with gran and gramps and the early morning when they would all crawl into the big bed and plan out the day.
Gramps was always happy to see me. He never ran out of time for a chat, ever happy to join in games even if it meant collecting all the cushions in the house and putting them in the living room in a big pile. He always had time to talk about my friends and school, always showing an interest in what I was doing or had to say.
I think I only picked up a few of the books in that library, but they were special because gramps chose them for me, and I was always excited for the next book.
I think we are all trying to build our own library, and gramps gave me exciting and funny lessons to add to the books of my own.
Tribute by Sarah Thorpe:
My Grandpa was special to a lot of people and many people knew him differently. A playwriter, a teacher, a husband, a dad, a friend.
Well, I knew him as a Grandpa – the best grandpa in the word. He was always interacting with us kids.
Even when he wasn’t feeling well, he made an effort to watch our sport matches at school, our Christmas plays, even our birthday parties.
I am glad I spent a lot of time with him, even though we live in PMB and he lived in Howick. We got to see each other a lot and I am grateful for that.
I miss him and I will always remember him. I am sure everyone here will.
Whether you were a friend , a colleague, a relative – let’s all remember him forever.
Tribute by Daniel Thorpe:
My Grandad was clever, and he showed clever tricks.
Sometimes I beat him at table tennis and sometimes he beat me.
The things I like about gramps is that he is smart , good looking and that he loves me.
I love him a lot too.
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Hymn: For the Beauty of the Earth Jean
Gospel Reading: John 14: 1-7 Rene Thorpe
Message: John
Prayers: John
Notices and Thanks: James Thorpe
The committal (family around the casket) John
Recession (with pall bearers) Family
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Tea in the Hall with picture slideshow
