Pam:
Here is the version that appeared in the Halifax Herald today. Until you sent it, I didn't realize that I had worked with Mr Bauchman (whom I knew only as Perry) back in the mid-70s when he was in-house counsel for Federal Business Deveopment Bank. I remember him as an easy-going, indominatible story and joke teller.
Cheers,
Eric
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BAUCHMAN, G. Perry "Jonnie", Flight Lieutenant, LL.B. WWII RCAF Spitfire Pilot (RAF 165 Ceylon Squadron)
Passed away on November 26, 2008, at the age of 88, our Dad drew his last breath while held in the loving arms of his family, as his beloved wife of 64 years, Rosemary, finished reading him her favourite poem, which she had written herself. Perry was a complex, passionate, brilliant and fiery man, an intense individual who lived a huge and amazing life. In truth, there is no way to define Perry. He was a unique individual who found himself when he climbed into the cockpit of a Spitfire. Normal for him was sleeping under the wing of his Spitfire, knocking scorpions out of his flying boots before donning them, and chasing Messerschmitts after breakfast and again before tea time, day after day, for four years. Perry was born in Windsor, on July 6, 1920 to Wardlu and Florence Bauchman (Martin). He was the third of five children, the only one born in hospital, to a profoundly deaf mother who didn't own a hearing aid until she was 65. Growing up on a farm during the Depression ensured that Perry became handy, thrifty, and resourceful. These traits served him well throughout his life. Evidence of his ingenious nature surfaced early. In order to compensate for their mother's deafness, the boys in the family rigged up a fire alarm to the family phone, which could be heard half a mile away, and which rang every time any of the 13 families on the party line received a call. After graduating from high school, he enlisted in the Royal Canadian Air Force in 1941. He went on to become a Spitfire pilot and served in England and North Africa. He met our mother, Rosemary (Jefferies), a member of the WAAF, while serving on the same squadron, and they were married in short order. Gamely she traveled to Canada with him, and despite massive culture shock, she put down roots, and together they made a life in Canada. They had four children, Bronwyn, Lakefield Ont.; Paul (predeceased 1995); Maryanne Seward, Halifax; Roy, Victoria; and Laurel (Paul Ceyssens), Salt Spring Island, B.C.; and three grandchildren, Megan Mowat, Kiera Ceyssens and Callum Ceyssens. Dad received four years of education as a discharge allowance at war's end from the Government of Canada, and, thanks to his intense drive, managed to complete undergraduate qualifications and law school in those four years. He worked for Simpson Hearst Insurance in Halifax and Moncton, and for the Federal Business Development Bank in Halifax, St. John's, and Montreal. He successfully instituted the employment of both computers and paralegals to FBDB at a time when such things were unheard of, and thereby revolutionized their legal services branch. While living in Montreal, he eagerly augmented his high school French through classes offered by his employer, and never missed a chance to practice it, despite gentle words from native speakers that perhaps their English was just a shade better than Dad's French. He was a hands-on Dad who led cubs and scouts, coached ringette, taught Sunday School, gave rides home to all our friends no matter the hour, rode horses, fixed bicycles, eyeglasses, cars, and just about everything else, made his own ham radios, and us stilts, pinwheels and backyard rinks, and never, ever, called a repairman. As result there were frequent explosions in our basement, both small and large, and a lot of electrician's tape in our lives. Dad was very proud that all four of his children graduated from university. He and Rosemary eventually retired to Lakefield, Ont., and then to Victoria B.C. where they both felt very much at home. During his retirement Dad started writing both poetry and prose, and eventually authored his autobiography, Spitfire Pilot, described by one of his friends as "very sexy". This comment was made after our mother had ruthlessly edited out the steamiest bits. Involved in the Canadian Authors' Association, provincial amateur radio clubs, and their church, Dad remained active and determined up to his last days. We found a letter he'd written the day before his last stroke, in shaking hand, but lucid prose, to the Registrar of Motor Vehicles, outlining why the Registrar ought to restore his drivers' license to him. Perry is survived by his beloved wife, Rosemary; his surviving children, and grandchildren; his brother, Donald (Helen), and sister Mary Manning, both of Nova Scotia; sisters-in-law, Rene Rowlands, and Selina Jefferies (England), many nieces and nephews, and great-nieces and nephews, in Canada, the United States, and England. His parents, parents-in-law and brothers, Rennie and Robert and brothers and sisters-in-law, Randy, Harry, Harry Roy, Bill, Ivo, Daisy, Sis and Jean predeceased him. There is no doubt that being a Spitfire pilot was the highlight of Dad's life. Nothing else ever compared to being a Knight of the Air. His 14 year old granddaughter, Kiera picked him to be her subject for an essay on heroism and leadership: "My grandfather and his generation were just ordinary people trying to do what was right. Together they created the most extraordinary victory ever achieved by humanity." Every one of us in Canada, whether we have been here for ten generations or whether we arrived yesterday, owe him and his generation our freedom and our lives. Please remember what he did for us. Please remember him. Memorial Service - St. Luke's Anglican Church, 3821 Cedar Hill Cross Rd., Victoria, 1:30 p.m. Tuesday December 2. In lieu of flowers, donations in memory of Perry to World Vision or the Alzheimer Society of British Columbia would be very much appreciated. On-line condolences to:
lb@... [Monday 01-December-2008 www.thechronicleherald.ca Halifax NS]
[collected by EMKeys 2008-12-01]
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