Story by Algernon – Image from “The Big Chill“

On Wednesday night the phone rang. Answering the phone the reply came in a trembling voice “Hi Algernon, Virginia here, I’m just calling to let you know that Peter died on Monday night  in hospital after battling with pneumonia over the weekend” A long conversation ensured where I gave her  contacts of old friends. Peter was 52. Peter and Virginia were the first of our group to get married nearly 30 years ago.

I last saw Peter in 1996. We started High School in the same class in 1971. What made Peter different was that he was a haemophiliac. Most people would not have come into contact with haemophiliacs though I had through scouts and was aware of the brittle bones and that their blood wouldn’t clot. To understand what haemophilia its better described here http://www.haemophilia.org.au/bleedingdisorders/cid/2/parent/0/pid/2/t/bleedingdisorders/title/haemophilia  (Source Haemophilia Foundation Australia).

Our school had a diverse group of boys from many backgrounds. It was also the last year that boys came from the farms in the hills district though they continued to come from the oyster farms on the Hawkesbury. Ironically Peter’s father was the first Principal at the new Galston High School that opened the following year and where most of those off the farms went after our year.  Boys being what they are can be a rough and tumble lot. I recall that once Peter had so sort of a difference of opinion with someone who lined up to thump him. Quickly thinking I through myself between the two and said if you hit him you might kill him, if you must hit someone hit me instead. The other boy backed down and Peter and my friendship grew from then.

He left the school for a while then returned in his later years to finish his high schooling. He was told many things by Doctors, like he would not live much past 25, he’d never have a job, play sport , was counselled against getting married and having children. We he was having none of that, He studied economics at University, worked with a bank, played Cricket; he and I had many memorable innings playing D grade, rode motorbikes, fixed cars, got married and had kids. He was not going to let his illness define him, though in many ways it did and for the benefit of those coming after him.

Peter was a committed Socialist with strong social justice values and a Christian for all of his life.

Our group shared many good times before and after he got married.  For me a meal at their place on a Thursday was a highlight and an institution for a few years.  As we all got older, marriage, children and careers took over or we moved elsewhere in the state or country each of us slowly lost contact with one another only occasionally catching up.

After the funeral, I caught up with old friends, many I hadn’t seen for years. For mine I expected that they would look like they would have 10, 15 20 years ago, yet Mrs A and I hadn’t changed a bit. They were all older, greyer and wearing all wearing glasses. All but Mark who with Retinitis Pigmentosa and no longer needs them. Not that he can see that well either.

This was our Big Chill moment. All bought together by the Peters death. Some travelling far, others locally. Mark is now a Professor at a University had come down on the train, his condition robbing him of his capacity to drive some years ago. He’s now on his third marriage. His first ended in violence from his first wife. The first time I met her after he announced his intentions I thought this will be lucky to last two years. Peter, at one of our regular Thursday night dinners, followed me out to the car to ask what I thought where told him what I thought of Marks first wife to be I told him I give them two years. He said you’d give it that long would you. Our concern was that he was making a big mistake. Alas we did and said nothing.

Simon went onto become a church minister. After a few country postings he’s now in Sydney. I commented that he’d probably officiated at a few funerals. In the country he’d done many. In the city, he told us most opted for a civil service as was Peters. He comments though he’d never given a Eulogy for a spouse and Virginia’s was a powerful one. He had married his childhood sweetheart.

Ivan stood there in silence with his wife. He was a debt collector with the bank a job he’d worked in all his life. They had never moved out of the area. Iain also started High school in the same class. They looked old even though he was slightly younger than me and his wife a year or so older.

Virginia came to talk to all of us, thanking all of us for coming. She mentioned that others from interstate were unable to come.  We all commented on how powerful her Eulogy was. She in her own way worried about one word.

She talked of his life, how he lived in constant pain, but how he would be at the forefront of how to treat this. In the early days frozen packs of factor 8 would give him the freedom he had never had.  The legacy was Hepatitis C. He was the first to have orthopaedic surgery to have his knees replaced in his twenties. He watched as over 85% of his cohort succumbed to AIDS in the 1980’s. Nowadays the factor 8 is synthetic. He talked with Medical students about Haemophilia. A generation of medical students from Universities of Sydney and NSW have their medical knowledge of Haemophilia because of Peter. For many years he was CEO of the Haemophilia Foundation, here he was able to lobby governments on behalf to allow various treatments to be made available on the NHS. Here is a recent article in the Sydney Morning Herald http://www.smh.com.au/lifestyle/diet-and-fitness/haemophiliac-left-out-in-the-cold-20101107-17j1y.html

He and his wife adopted a child from India in the 1980’s. He hated prejudice.  They were asked if the child liked curry at the time the child was 6 months old. A son arrived later and was able to do things that Peter was unable to do physically.  Over time his body became weaker. At one of his last medical appointments after dragging himself down stairs he went to cross the road to the car. Lighting a cigarette to summon the strength to cross the road to the car. It was a non smoking area. Some officious young thing came up to him and said the rules say you can’t smoke here. Peter drawings breath and replied said “Really, well it’s a shame there isn’t a rule for fuckwits”. Then dragged himself across the road to the car.

Heading off to the wake afterwards we caught up with other old friends. The house was packed and the support for the family was evident. Sally had come down from a large town in the mid west near Molong. She’d been a teacher moving from country town to country town for many years. Her and her husband chose to settle there after making friend ships the seeing them move somewhere else. She had 5 children one married two at uni and two the same age as the Algenoninas.  It was the need to belong somewhere that had them settle where they did.

Mrs Algernon commented that 20 or 30 years ago we would have all talked about our aspirations. Nowadays with all our children almost finishing high school or tertiary educations we now talk about our children’s aspirations.

Someone suggested we should all catch up again sometime but then said would it be the same. The point is we all had grown up together, gone into different careers, got married, moved to different areas, settled there, had our families and became part of those communities. Our lives and times had moved on with us.