John Flynn 28 January, 1966 – 24 April, 2020
CONTRIBUTE
TO MEMORY TIMELINE
A map of Coochie Mudlo Island showing streets named after the Phillips family on the section owned by Bruce Brisbane Phillips, John's grandfather.
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I have fond memories of meeting John at Nana and Poppy's (Ida and Jim Flynn) for Christmas lunch or other occasions. John was always happy and fun to talk to.
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This photo used to live on our stereo and was taken before Mel was born. Because it is no longer the whole gang it no longer lives on our stereo but is still a great memory of a great visit
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On the water taxi going home from Coochie Mudlo after laying a memorial plaque for the Phillips family
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My name is Chris Leon, and I am a long-time friend of John’s. Simon and I meet John together one afternoon at the beginning of grade 6. John had suddenly appeared in our class a few days prior, so we were curious about who this new kid was. Simon and I often walked home together, and for the previous few days, we had noticed John walking home behind us, we later found out he lives on the same street as Simon. On one fateful day, we stopped him and introduced ourselves, and from that moment, the three of us became close friends. When I think of John, I remember endless hours playing with puppets, Lego, swimming and making movies. To me, I can’t think of that period of my life without the image of, Simon riding his scooter and me riding a bike toeing John on his skateboard. I remember weekend adventures to the movies where our parents would give us 20 dollars each. That was enough for a bus into the city, a movie, popcorn, drink, Jaffars, and ice-cream. I have fond memories of watching Star Wars, six times and seeing Greece for the first time with John, and the second time, and the third time. John had a massive crush on Oliver Newton-John. I think that is why he married you, Irene. I always wished I could be John. John was everything I wanted to be. He was confident and smart and more fun than me. John was more comfortable with other people, and he made people around him feel relaxed. John was unfailingly loyal. Always there. I always knew if things got too crazy, John was there to protect us. He made me feel safe to do something outside my comfort zone, he gave me courage. The courage which, by the way, John was more than comfortable exploiting. John would often talk us into doing things which were, in hindsight, stupid. Like diving into swollen stormwater drains or riding pushbikes down long flights of stairs. I remember pulling my face out of a garden bed at the bottom of one particularly long flight of stairs with John’s infectious laugh ringing in my ears. I think Simon, John and I needed each other. The bond we had between us gave us stability and safety during a period of our lives when we needed it. A period when our own home lives were unstable and chaotic. As we grew, our lives took different paths. Simon went to private school for a period before joining John and me at Cavendish Road High School. Still, we remained good friends and continued to spend time together through the school years. After school and over the years since. I would regularly get a call from John, and we would catch up. John also kept in contact regularly with my parents. Sometimes visiting them more frequently than me. I watched as John settled down with his beautiful wife Irene and started his own family. John helped to shape my life in many ways. But one of the most significant impacts was something John did, that I never got the opportunity until now, to thank him for. I am gay, and I struggled to accept myself and feel that I belonged. I had purposely put distance between myself and anyone I loved just to avoid the possibility of being rejected. Until one day I got a phone call from John. “Hey mate, I heard something about you today. I heard you’re gay.” At that moment, my heart sank, and I braced for what was about to come. But to my surprise and without any judgement or hesitation, John said to me “it doesn’t bother me that you’re gay. You know I love you”. And just like that, like water off a duck back, everything changed for me. It made me remember my connection to everyone I cared about. John, at that moment, gave me back my life. I never had the opportunity to tell him what he did for me that day. I always thought that we had all the time in the world. And that in the years ahead as our families grew and we had more free time we would have an opportunity to reconnect and spend more time together. The bond that Simon, John and I formed in those years ago has remained with us our entire lives. Although our lives have taken several paths, and our contact has waxed and waned, our bond never diminished. The three of us influenced each other’s lives and shaped the core of who we became as adults, and I will be, forever thankful, that John and Simon have been part of my life. I will miss you John, and I grieve for the time that has been taken from us, and I thank you, John, for the final lesson you have taught me. Cherish every moment we have with each other and not to fall into the trap of thinking, we will always have more time.
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Eulogy for John Flynn by Irene
Although John was only 54 when he passed away, he managed to pack a lot of living and a wealth of memories into those years! Whether you knew him as “John”, or “Flynnie”, or “Daddy”, he was a very special person to all of us. Under different circumstances there would be a crowd of friends here, because it was very easy to love John. We all have our own dear memories of him. Beneath the big, tough exterior he was gentle, kind-hearted, patient and generous to a fault. He had a wicked sense of humour and could always be relied upon to be there for his mates.
Born in Brisbane John had an older brother & sister. He had a great deal of respect for his mum, Shirley, who was a hardworking nurse, working night shift and bringing up 3 kids almost single-handedly. John had fond memories of Coochie Mudlo Island and fishing with his Uncle Bill when he was a small boy. Uncle Bill also instilled a life-long love of woodwork and a knack for making something out of nothing. John hated waste of any kind and anything that couldn’t be fixed, would be pulled apart and stored. Our shed is full of all manner of nuts and bolts and pieces of timber. He knew that they would be just right to fix or make something down the track (sometimes years down the track!).
John was clever and a good learner. He chose his friends carefully at school and when he started at Marshall Road Primary, became friends with Chris and Simon. These three lads would get up to all sorts of fun together, including putting on puppet shows and spending hours constructing Lego. They also got up to some pretty dangerous stunts but managed to survive childhood! They kept in touch over the years and as I have come to know them, I can see they have the same gentle spirit John had.
Because of family breakdown, John left school in Grade 10. He moved into a share house where his brother Jim was living. These were his wild-child years – full of excitement and adrenalin with a good dose of danger thrown in. It was a time of loud motorbikes, loud parties, loud music, and loud cars. In the early 1980s he moved to Main Arm in northern New South Wales, on the edge of deep, dense rainforest. Here his love of nature and the outdoors flourished, as he explored the back tracks and fire trails throughout the region. He liked nothing better than to sit quietly on the edge of a crystal-clear creek, watching the water cascade over smooth river rocks and observing the wildlife around him. This was also where he developed his musical talents. He had natural rhythm and was a proficient drummer, then taught himself to play guitar (easier to carry around than a drum kit!).
During this time, he would periodically travel back to Brisbane, visiting friends at Griffith University. This proved to be a great place to meet chicks who liked to party! He dated a couple of them, and met a girl named Irene who was a friend of one of his girlfriends. We began to move in the same circles when I deferred my Uni course and went to live the hippy life at Main Arm as well. We were all part of a group who had run away from city life and were looking to get closer to nature and a simpler way of life. Eventually though, reality caught up and our group started to drift apart, heading back to the big smoke.
After a year or so, I was surprised to get a call from John, wanting to know if I’d like to catch up. We started seeing each other more and more often. I had recently finished a relationship and clearly remember saying to my mum “I’m not going to fall in love again, I’ve had it with men! This time I’m just in it for fun”. Little did I know how many wonderful years of fun were ahead for me.
After coming out of the forest, John got a haircut and some flash clothes and hit the road selling insurance. Here he met a beautiful lady named Lea who introduced John to her lovely partner, Dave. Selling insurance didn’t pay badly, but he always felt like he was ripping people off. So instead he turned his hand to some honest, hard work and became an excellent panel beater and spray painter. He had a meticulous eye for detail and was not satisfied with anything less than a perfect, shiny finish. Considering he did most of his work in the backyard or out of an old chook shed, this accomplishment is even more impressive.
By this time John had moved into a house at Holland Park with an easy-going mate named Gary. It was a true bachelor pad complete with cockroaches crawling up the walls and a front lawn so long you could get lost in it. I remember one of the first times I visited John there, Gary was doing donuts in the front yard on his motorbike. I asked him what he was doing. He replied it was his turn to mow the lawn. Clearly these poor men needed a woman to survive, so the 3 of us moved in together, renting a house in Chilton Street at Sunnybank Hills in 1986. We all lived together til 1993, with a young woman named Angie joining us as Gary’s partner.
John had a blue healer which he’d rescued from a vegetarian during his hippy days who went everywhere with us. John used to say “Me and You and a Dog named Blue”. They were carefree days, with friends dropping in constantly, motorcycle rides into the mountains, jam sessions on the guitars. John seemed to know people everywhere we went. If we went to a concert someone in the crowd would yell out “There’s Flynnie”. Walking down a bush track on Mt Tamborine someone coming the other way would say “G’day John”. I asked him once if he knew everyone in Brisbane! John was always saying I would get along with Lea. He had known her and Dave for some time. I had met Dave who would stop at our house on the way home from work, but I’d never met Lea. One night we went to their house and driving home hours later, I said “They’re so nice, I feel like I’ve known Lea forever.” Good times with good friends.
John and I got the opportunity to live and work in Papua New Guinea in 1993, managing a hotel/ motel halfway between Port Moresby and the Kokoda Track. We spent 18 months there, and what an education that was! We lived in the compound, where guard dogs were let out after closing time to patrol the grounds with hired security guards. John had to get a gun license, and I was not allowed to go into town unescorted. It was certainly a very different life to what we had left behind in Australia. But despite that, we really enjoyed the experience and the amazing landscape.
When we returned to Australia, Bluey had to go into quarantine for 3 months, so we took the opportunity to go camping at Fraser Island. John bought a Ford F100 4WD which we lived in for a couple of weeks, camping on the beach or going inland to the lakes. It was a magical time, catching fresh fish for dinner and cooking them over the fire. We had dingoes visit our camp and always kept a close eye on them. One morning John was fishing when he noticed a dingo coming close to him. While he was busy watching it, its mate crept up behind him and stole his bait.
We got back to the mainland and started to wonder what to do next. Wouldn’t it be an excellent adventure to travel around Australia in the Ford?! But the Ford needed a lot of work to bring it up to that standard, so John and his good mate Geoff got stuck into it, stripping it back to bare metal to rebuild and repaint it. It looked like a sieve when they finished sandblasting it, but they persevered, and it ended up being a beautiful car. But it took more time and money than it was supposed to.
Instead of travelling around Australia, we decided to become contract worm-farmers and moved to the back of Coolum on the Sunshine Coast. There amongst the bush and cane fields, John and I built 6 huge worm beds, filled them with horse poo and worms and waited for the profits to roll in. We tended our stock carefully, but we had been caught up in the great worm-farming scam of the mid 1990s and didn’t actually make any money! It was lovely living in the bush again, with vegie gardens and chooks and wildlife around. When we realized we’d been scammed, we moved back to Brisbane and rented a house at Salisbury, where we got proper jobs and started saving to buy a house.
That was when John transformed himself again, working as an audio visual technician. He worked on events at QPAC, Brisbane Entertainment Centre, Woodford Folk Festival, as well as company conferences at the big hotels around Brisbane. He would often work for 36 hours straight, come home and sleep for a few hours during the day, then start again. We hardly saw each other for about 5 years. But because of this effort, the savings started to mount up until one day in 2001 he said “Come and have a look at a house I’ve found”. Driving up the street I thought “This looks a bit posh”. Then he took me to a little house halfway up the hill and we looked in through the windows. I told him it looked too good for us and we couldn’t afford it, but he replied “Yes we can” and in July of 2001 we moved in to our own home.
There was a lot to do, termites had been eating away the eastern wall of the house, the garden was a mess, the pergola was rotten. But John set to fixing it all up with some help from his good mate Warren. He hated waste so the bricks from the old barbecue we knocked down got cleaned and reused building garden beds.
Then, out of the blue, John had an epileptic seizure. A couple of weeks later he had another. So began a round of doctors and specialists and tests and medication. In 2002 another blow, he had skin cancer. These circumstances completely changed his life. He spent a long time trying to come to terms with losing his ability to work in the way he was used to. But one day he sat down and wrote out what was important in life. I had forgotten about that and just happened to find it a couple of days ago. These are John’s words:
1) Health and happiness
2) Wife and kids (family)
3) Home and necessary assets (not ritzy!)
4) Work and community
5) Caring and sharing (friends)
He wrote down “Remember your happy place” and “It’s alright to make mistakes as long as you learn from them. That’s how we learn”. Wise words if you ask me. It took some time to get his epilepsy under control. Since he couldn’t drive, he needed to work from home, and share-trading fit the bill. He studied the market for some time, then plunged in with our savings to try and increase them. He said it was a bit like going to the casino but over time, he had more wins than losses and the bank balance began to grow again.
With a home and an income, we thought it was time to start our family. Friends and relatives had long given up asking us when we were going to get married and have kids, when in 2004 I became pregnant and in March 2005 our daughter Ella was born. John was so proud and happy. Twelve months later I went back to work and he stayed home with our little girl, raising her until she was ready to go to school. He was so patient and very hands on, crawling around on the floor with her when she was little, then as she grew playing with dolls and blocks and later teaching her to cook and play music.
Things were so wonderful, we started to think about having another child. Four years later, to the day, Melissa was born. Now he had two adoring children to love. John was there for the birth of both his girls, supporting and encouraging me the whole time. When they were born, he proudly contacted all our friends to let them know. He was always so gentle and patient with his girls. He believed learning should be fun, and every day was an opportunity for learning, so that made for a lot of fun days! I would come home from work and the windows would be rattling from the volume of the music playing while they cooked or built Lego sets or made cars or planes out of cardboard boxes. If the girls were struggling with something at school, he would find a different way to explain it to them so that they understood. I would often marvel at the lengths he went to for us.
As time passed, our joy grew. He had achieved a loving family unit which was mostly harmonious. We owned our home by this time and things were looking good. His epilepsy was finally under control and even though he had to face getting skin cancers removed regularly, including some serious ones, all in all he was content with life. In October 2016 John decided to treat himself and bought a beautiful, red Honda Fury motorbike. On days when he was feeling well, he would ride out to the mountains and enjoy the beauty surrounding him. Sometimes we girls would follow him in the car, stopping to picnic at scenic lookouts or trek down to where waterfalls cascaded over river rocks into icy waterholes. It was magical.
As his 50th birthday approached I started to wonder, what could I give my awesome man that would show him how much I loved and adored him and how grateful I was for all he had given us? It was a leap year, so I decided to ask him to marry me. I organized a surprise birthday party, calling as many of his old mates as I could locate. After the party they all went home, and I popped the question. To my relief, he said yes! Two weeks later, on Valentine’s Day, he presented me with a beautiful engagement ring. We discussed different wedding options from time to time but couldn’t seem to agree on how to get hitched. The wedding was put on the back burner. About a year later, tired of waiting for me, John went ahead and organized our wedding day. We had been going to Stradbroke Island for family holidays since the girls were little, so he booked accommodation on the island, contacted our closest friends, even bought me a beautiful dress. When everything was set, he told me the wedding would be in December. It was such a beautiful, relaxed day.
John noticed a painful spot under his tongue just before his birthday in January this year. He went to his doctor, then his dentist, but they couldn’t identify what was wrong. He was referred to a specialist in early February, who sent him to the Royal Brisbane Hospital. They did further tests and on the 25th of February he was told there were cancer markers throughout his whole body. John told me the outlook wasn’t good, but he was going to fight and buy as much time as he could. While waiting for treatment to begin, the pain became unbearable and he had to be admitted to the Princess Alexandra hospital in early March. He was able to come home for a couple of weeks at the end of March, but by Easter he had taken a turn for the worse and had to return to hospital.
Because of tightening of the Covid-19 restrictions, our girls were no longer able to visit him at the PA and I could only go for 1 hour a day. This was almost unbearable both for him and for us. His condition continued to deteriorate and following a meeting with medical staff, John was transferred to the QE2 Palliative Care unit where we were able to visit him and spend more time together. The second day he was there, just last Thursday, we had a beautiful morning together. We took our dogs up to visit him and all sat together out on the back deck. As we brought him outside, he raised his fist to the sky and said “Freedom”. He sat looking out at the trees and pointed out a hibiscus bush that he could see in the distance which we hadn’t noticed. John was good at noticing things others didn’t see.
While he was at the PA hospital, I asked John if there was anyone he wanted to speak to or have visit him. He said no. He wanted his friends to remember him as he was. A cheeky smile, a twinkle in his eye and love in his heart. Our lives will never be the same without him and the world is a poorer place. We are blessed to have known and loved John Flynn.
From the moment I open my eyes in the morning until I close them again at night, I miss you and think about you and the times we spent together.
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We have gathered here today to commemorate the life of a great man. This man was formally known as Edward, but everyone called him John. To Melissa and I, he was dad. I would like to share a few memories with you today. My first ever memory of my dad was playing barbies with him. Mum would be at work, and I would convince dad to play barbies with me. When it was time for lunch, the barbies had to get dressed into fancy outfits, so they would be dressed in evening gowns and high heels. Dad would partake in my shenanigans, but one day he didn’t put the barbies in high heels. He put barbie in scuba flippers. I told dad that you can’t go to lunch in flippers, but dad believed you could. That was the thing about dad, he was always making jokes, which leads me to my next memory. For as long as I can remember dad and I had a game. He would peel fruit stickers off the fruit and stick them on me or my things. I would retaliate. Over the years, this turned into World War 3. For Christmas in 2018, I covered a piece of paper in fruit stickers, then laminated it and gave it to him. The lamination was so he could not use the stickers to retaliate. Another all-out assault I launched was the one on his phone case, which I have with me today. As you can see, the sticker build-up on this is absolutely magnificent. This happened because dad never touched his mobile, so it was the perfect place for stickers to congregate. The last time I saw him, I told dad I would finish it for him. I intend on doing that, so all sticker donations are welcome. Another thing dad did with me was make me my Ella-Plane wings when I was about three. He cut two triangles of cardboard out, wrote Ella-Plane on them and gave them to me to colour in. When they were finished, he put elastic through them so I could strap them on and pretend to fly. Dad also had a bit of an obsession with choc-chip muffins. Every time I was going to bake, he would ask for choc-chip muffins. One time, I decided to make brownies and put the recipe out on the bench, then went to walk the dogs. When I got back, the brownie recipe was gone and in its place was the choc-chip muffin recipe. Another thing dad did was call me short and Mel tall, even though I am the taller out of the both of us. These examples prove what a great man my dad was. He will be remembered as someone kind, selfless and loving. Thank you.
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My dad was the best father in the world. Even though I was little, we did so many things together when mum and Ella were at work and school. I have a few vivid memories I would like to share as my last goodbye to my dad. We cooked together all the time, making honey cakes and chocolate crackles. He would put on some music and set up the video camera and recorded us. I remember when I got a lego set that involved technic lego, he was patient enough to help me and I also remember building a trainset with him that was huge. I remember building a little red house with him and playing a wonderful game of pretend. One day, I had to stay home from school and we had a test that day, I was upset and sacred that I wouldn’t be able to do it when I got back to school, but then daddy taught me how to find the area in irregular shapes, and many other things. Then I was ahead of the class. There are so many wonderful memories like lighting the new fireplace for the first time and setting up the Wii and playing Mario Kart terribly. There are so many memories I would love to share, but we would be here until the end of time. From dive bombing mum and Ella in the swimming pool, to waking up on Christmas day and exchanging presents, to him playing toy boats with me in the bath when I was really small. Dad was always there for me and I hope his spirit will always be with us. He was an amazing father and I wish he didn’t have to leave us. I just think that all the pain and all the hurt is gone and dad is happy, and free. The last day I saw him, when we took him out on the deck at the hospital, there was one thing that he said when we came outside. “Freedom!” and now he is free. Thank you for being the best dad in the universe.
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Some words from Maria Davies, John’s mother-in-law I truly started to admire, respect and appreciate John when I saw how he cared for my grandchildren. He was always patient with them, playing barbies with them or building sandcastles with them, and one thing I truly admire about John was how he respected his children. He always treated them equals, even when they were little. Besides teaching them things needed for school, such as maths, he taught the children morals, such as kindness, sharing and learning to forgive. You could see how much he loved them. He truly was the best father in the world. He made my daughter very, very happy and he always respected her. They really are soulmates.
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My memories of John Flynn - from Kate Welch, a close friend of Irene’s John was a very generous and thoughtful man with a big heart. He loved his girls and he shared his love of music with them. And he adored Irene. It was an honour to be at their wedding. John could not stop beaming. It was hard to believe that they had been together for over 30 years. As John watched his Irene walk towards him, he looked as though he had just fallen head over heels in love for the first time and all his prayers had been answered. And they were answered as Irene finally agreed to become Mrs Flynn. The wedding day was very much John and Irene, easy going and full of love and joy. John will be sadly missed by many. He was a big man who has left an even bigger hole in a lot of lives, but he also leaves us with many wonderful memories.
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It was so windy yesterday. We made paper kites and took them to the footy field to fly in memory of you. Magic afternoon John, you would have loved it.
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We are very shock to find out you left so suddenly John. You will be greatly missed and will always be in our hearts. Heartfelt condolences to Irene, Ella, Mel and the family.
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The other day John, your girls Ella and Melissa made a promise. They promised they are going to live their lives by Daddy's rules. What a beautiful way to honour their Dad, whom they both loved very much.
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How do we begin to condense 35 years of friendship, fun and memories into a few small paragraphs of words? Dave and I first met John back in the mid ‘80’s. Dave & Lea knew John from John visiting our house….. John & Irene knew Dave from Dave visiting their house ….. But Lea & Irene had not met. It was John’s suggestion that we should all get together so we girls could meet …. And that was the beginning of years of great friendship between us all, lots of fun and many adventures we all shared together. To highlight just a few: • Afternoon jamming sessions • Weekend or afternoon bike rides • Beach camping • Impromptu weekend get-togethers or dinner invitations • Afternoon barbeques that turned into late nights sitting around a fire, whilst playing Yahtzee under the light of an old kero lantern in the middle of a dark, deserted picnic ground • Or just hanging out together, listening to music, talking, drinking and laughing. John’s laugh will stay with us as a special part of him and his relaxed, casual manner. We all shared so much of our lives together, with ups and downs, but our friendship remained strong throughout. We were always welcomed into John & Irene’s home like family. There is a saying I’m sure we’ve all heard that “friends are the family you choose for yourself” and we have always felt like part of John’s “Family of Friends”. We got to know many of his and Irene’s friends and we have all had many special times together. We each have our own special memories of John. He had a way of doing special little things that would come out of nowhere, when least expected, but would come from pure generosity. They would make a mark in a most special way and I’m sure he under estimated their value. We all grew older together and our lives changed in ways we had never imagined. Along came our children and our “Family of Friends” just grew larger. Some special times come to mind of small things that John did when Kelsey was just a tiny toddler but were so special to us. Like the time he spent setting up a video camera to their TV just so Kels could amuse herself by watching her own image on the television. Another is an amazing compilation of old video footage of Kelsey that John put together for us to the music “A little Ray of Sunshine”. It made me cry back then and it still does some 25 years later. And then we got to see John with his own two beautiful daughters. We have always felt welcomed into John’s home – even when he had to endure 5 noisy females taking over his dining room and going into “Hyper-Jibber”. That’s when he and Dave would lovingly retreat into another room, or even outside, with their trusty guitars for a quiet jam together. The unthinkable has happened and has rocked our lives. Our “Family of Friends” is reeling from our loss and our hearts are breaking for Irene, Ella and Melissa. John’s memory will remain in our hearts and in our home forever. Pasta will forevermore be lovingly known as “soggy bread” :) There is a house in Sunnybank Hills that will never be the same and the world is definitely a sadder place without you Flynnie. Too quick Too young Too soon So many treasured memories With our love xxx
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It’s been 3 weeks already dad and I still can’t believe it. I had this dream the other day, I’m sure you sent it to me. I dreamt that one of my friends had died and that you were comforting me, telling me that it was alright and that they were in a better place now. You also reminded me to look to the future and keep moving forwards, Thank you for sending me that message dad, I love you.
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It's 4 weeks today since you left us, John. Not a moment goes by that we don't think about you and miss you. Our grief colours every moment with sadness. Your memories are everywhere around us, but we cannot hold you or hear you. It hurts so much to be without you. All our love from your girls... Irene, Ella and Melissa.
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A map of Coochie Mudlo Island showing streets named after the Phillips family on the section owned by Bruce Brisbane Phillips, John's grandfather. View full message
Coochie
I have fond memories of meeting John at Nana and Poppy's (Ida and Jim Flynn) for Christmas lunch or other occasions. John was always happy and fun to talk to. View full message
Cousin Rob (Anderson)
Anyone up for a Cuppa? John Making a cuppa on the Blue Parrot at 45 degree angle View full message
Gaz and Ange
This photo used to live on our stereo and was taken before Mel was born. Because it is no longer the whole gang it no longer lives on our stereo but is still a great memory of a great visit View full message
Lea, Dave & Kels
On the water taxi going home from Coochie Mudlo after laying a memorial plaque for the Phillips family View full message
Coochie 2008
The boys catching up at Straddie the night before John & Irene's wedding -what a great few days!! View full message
Lea
Watching the fireworks from the top of the ferris wheel at the Ekka. View full message
John and Irene
Taken at the PA Hospital on Ella and Melissa's birthday this year View full message
John and his Girls
My name is Chris Leon, and I am a long-time friend of John’s. Simon and I meet John together one afternoon at the beginning of grade 6. John had suddenly appeared in our class a few days prior, so we were curious about who this new kid was. Simon and I often walked home together, and for the previous few days, we had noticed John walking home behind us, we later found out he lives on the same street as Simon. On one fateful day, we stopped him and introduced ourselves, and from that moment, the three of us became close friends. When I think of John, I remember endless hours playing with puppets, Lego, swimming and making movies. To me, I can’t think of that period of my life without the image of, Simon riding his scooter and me riding a bike toeing John on his skateboard. I remember weekend adventures to the movies where our parents would give us 20 dollars each. That was enough for a bus into the city, a movie, popcorn, drink, Jaffars, and ice-cream. I have fond memories of watching Star Wars, six times and seeing Greece for the first time with John, and the second time, and the third time. John had a massive crush on Oliver Newton-John. I think that is why he married you, Irene. I always wished I could be John. John was everything I wanted to be. He was confident and smart and more fun than me. John was more comfortable with other people, and he made people around him feel relaxed. John was unfailingly loyal. Always there. I always knew if things got too crazy, John was there to protect us. He made me feel safe to do something outside my comfort zone, he gave me courage. The courage which, by the way, John was more than comfortable exploiting. John would often talk us into doing things which were, in hindsight, stupid. Like diving into swollen stormwater drains or riding pushbikes down long flights of stairs. I remember pulling my face out of a garden bed at the bottom of one particularly long flight of stairs with John’s infectious laugh ringing in my ears. I think Simon, John and I needed each other. The bond we had between us gave us stability and safety during a period of our lives when we needed it. A period when our own home lives were unstable and chaotic. As we grew, our lives took different paths. Simon went to private school for a period before joining John and me at Cavendish Road High School. Still, we remained good friends and continued to spend time together through the school years. After school and over the years since. I would regularly get a call from John, and we would catch up. John also kept in contact regularly with my parents. Sometimes visiting them more frequently than me. I watched as John settled down with his beautiful wife Irene and started his own family. John helped to shape my life in many ways. But one of the most significant impacts was something John did, that I never got the opportunity until now, to thank him for. I am gay, and I struggled to accept myself and feel that I belonged. I had purposely put distance between myself and anyone I loved just to avoid the possibility of being rejected. Until one day I got a phone call from John. “Hey mate, I heard something about you today. I heard you’re gay.” At that moment, my heart sank, and I braced for what was about to come. But to my surprise and without any judgement or hesitation, John said to me “it doesn’t bother me that you’re gay. You know I love you”. And just like that, like water off a duck back, everything changed for me. It made me remember my connection to everyone I cared about. John, at that moment, gave me back my life. I never had the opportunity to tell him what he did for me that day. I always thought that we had all the time in the world. And that in the years ahead as our families grew and we had more free time we would have an opportunity to reconnect and spend more time together. The bond that Simon, John and I formed in those years ago has remained with us our entire lives. Although our lives have taken several paths, and our contact has waxed and waned, our bond never diminished. The three of us influenced each other’s lives and shaped the core of who we became as adults, and I will be, forever thankful, that John and Simon have been part of my life. I will miss you John, and I grieve for the time that has been taken from us, and I thank you, John, for the final lesson you have taught me. Cherish every moment we have with each other and not to fall into the trap of thinking, we will always have more time.
Eulogy for John Flynn by Irene
Although John was only 54 when he passed away, he managed to pack a lot of living and a wealth of memories into those years! Whether you knew him as “John”, or “Flynnie”, or “Daddy”, he was a very special person to all of us. Under different circumstances there would be a crowd of friends here, because it was very easy to love John. We all have our own dear memories of him. Beneath the big, tough exterior he was gentle, kind-hearted, patient and generous to a fault. He had a wicked sense of humour and could always be relied upon to be there for his mates.
Born in Brisbane John had an older brother & sister. He had a great deal of respect for his mum, Shirley, who was a hardworking nurse, working night shift and bringing up 3 kids almost single-handedly. John had fond memories of Coochie Mudlo Island and fishing with his Uncle Bill when he was a small boy. Uncle Bill also instilled a life-long love of woodwork and a knack for making something out of nothing. John hated waste of any kind and anything that couldn’t be fixed, would be pulled apart and stored. Our shed is full of all manner of nuts and bolts and pieces of timber. He knew that they would be just right to fix or make something down the track (sometimes years down the track!).
John was clever and a good learner. He chose his friends carefully at school and when he started at Marshall Road Primary, became friends with Chris and Simon. These three lads would get up to all sorts of fun together, including putting on puppet shows and spending hours constructing Lego. They also got up to some pretty dangerous stunts but managed to survive childhood! They kept in touch over the years and as I have come to know them, I can see they have the same gentle spirit John had.
Because of family breakdown, John left school in Grade 10. He moved into a share house where his brother Jim was living. These were his wild-child years – full of excitement and adrenalin with a good dose of danger thrown in. It was a time of loud motorbikes, loud parties, loud music, and loud cars. In the early 1980s he moved to Main Arm in northern New South Wales, on the edge of deep, dense rainforest. Here his love of nature and the outdoors flourished, as he explored the back tracks and fire trails throughout the region. He liked nothing better than to sit quietly on the edge of a crystal-clear creek, watching the water cascade over smooth river rocks and observing the wildlife around him. This was also where he developed his musical talents. He had natural rhythm and was a proficient drummer, then taught himself to play guitar (easier to carry around than a drum kit!).
During this time, he would periodically travel back to Brisbane, visiting friends at Griffith University. This proved to be a great place to meet chicks who liked to party! He dated a couple of them, and met a girl named Irene who was a friend of one of his girlfriends. We began to move in the same circles when I deferred my Uni course and went to live the hippy life at Main Arm as well. We were all part of a group who had run away from city life and were looking to get closer to nature and a simpler way of life. Eventually though, reality caught up and our group started to drift apart, heading back to the big smoke.
After a year or so, I was surprised to get a call from John, wanting to know if I’d like to catch up. We started seeing each other more and more often. I had recently finished a relationship and clearly remember saying to my mum “I’m not going to fall in love again, I’ve had it with men! This time I’m just in it for fun”. Little did I know how many wonderful years of fun were ahead for me.
After coming out of the forest, John got a haircut and some flash clothes and hit the road selling insurance. Here he met a beautiful lady named Lea who introduced John to her lovely partner, Dave. Selling insurance didn’t pay badly, but he always felt like he was ripping people off. So instead he turned his hand to some honest, hard work and became an excellent panel beater and spray painter. He had a meticulous eye for detail and was not satisfied with anything less than a perfect, shiny finish. Considering he did most of his work in the backyard or out of an old chook shed, this accomplishment is even more impressive.
By this time John had moved into a house at Holland Park with an easy-going mate named Gary. It was a true bachelor pad complete with cockroaches crawling up the walls and a front lawn so long you could get lost in it. I remember one of the first times I visited John there, Gary was doing donuts in the front yard on his motorbike. I asked him what he was doing. He replied it was his turn to mow the lawn. Clearly these poor men needed a woman to survive, so the 3 of us moved in together, renting a house in Chilton Street at Sunnybank Hills in 1986. We all lived together til 1993, with a young woman named Angie joining us as Gary’s partner.
John had a blue healer which he’d rescued from a vegetarian during his hippy days who went everywhere with us. John used to say “Me and You and a Dog named Blue”. They were carefree days, with friends dropping in constantly, motorcycle rides into the mountains, jam sessions on the guitars. John seemed to know people everywhere we went. If we went to a concert someone in the crowd would yell out “There’s Flynnie”. Walking down a bush track on Mt Tamborine someone coming the other way would say “G’day John”. I asked him once if he knew everyone in Brisbane! John was always saying I would get along with Lea. He had known her and Dave for some time. I had met Dave who would stop at our house on the way home from work, but I’d never met Lea. One night we went to their house and driving home hours later, I said “They’re so nice, I feel like I’ve known Lea forever.” Good times with good friends.
John and I got the opportunity to live and work in Papua New Guinea in 1993, managing a hotel/ motel halfway between Port Moresby and the Kokoda Track. We spent 18 months there, and what an education that was! We lived in the compound, where guard dogs were let out after closing time to patrol the grounds with hired security guards. John had to get a gun license, and I was not allowed to go into town unescorted. It was certainly a very different life to what we had left behind in Australia. But despite that, we really enjoyed the experience and the amazing landscape.
When we returned to Australia, Bluey had to go into quarantine for 3 months, so we took the opportunity to go camping at Fraser Island. John bought a Ford F100 4WD which we lived in for a couple of weeks, camping on the beach or going inland to the lakes. It was a magical time, catching fresh fish for dinner and cooking them over the fire. We had dingoes visit our camp and always kept a close eye on them. One morning John was fishing when he noticed a dingo coming close to him. While he was busy watching it, its mate crept up behind him and stole his bait.
We got back to the mainland and started to wonder what to do next. Wouldn’t it be an excellent adventure to travel around Australia in the Ford?! But the Ford needed a lot of work to bring it up to that standard, so John and his good mate Geoff got stuck into it, stripping it back to bare metal to rebuild and repaint it. It looked like a sieve when they finished sandblasting it, but they persevered, and it ended up being a beautiful car. But it took more time and money than it was supposed to.
Instead of travelling around Australia, we decided to become contract worm-farmers and moved to the back of Coolum on the Sunshine Coast. There amongst the bush and cane fields, John and I built 6 huge worm beds, filled them with horse poo and worms and waited for the profits to roll in. We tended our stock carefully, but we had been caught up in the great worm-farming scam of the mid 1990s and didn’t actually make any money! It was lovely living in the bush again, with vegie gardens and chooks and wildlife around. When we realized we’d been scammed, we moved back to Brisbane and rented a house at Salisbury, where we got proper jobs and started saving to buy a house.
That was when John transformed himself again, working as an audio visual technician. He worked on events at QPAC, Brisbane Entertainment Centre, Woodford Folk Festival, as well as company conferences at the big hotels around Brisbane. He would often work for 36 hours straight, come home and sleep for a few hours during the day, then start again. We hardly saw each other for about 5 years. But because of this effort, the savings started to mount up until one day in 2001 he said “Come and have a look at a house I’ve found”. Driving up the street I thought “This looks a bit posh”. Then he took me to a little house halfway up the hill and we looked in through the windows. I told him it looked too good for us and we couldn’t afford it, but he replied “Yes we can” and in July of 2001 we moved in to our own home.
There was a lot to do, termites had been eating away the eastern wall of the house, the garden was a mess, the pergola was rotten. But John set to fixing it all up with some help from his good mate Warren. He hated waste so the bricks from the old barbecue we knocked down got cleaned and reused building garden beds.
Then, out of the blue, John had an epileptic seizure. A couple of weeks later he had another. So began a round of doctors and specialists and tests and medication. In 2002 another blow, he had skin cancer. These circumstances completely changed his life. He spent a long time trying to come to terms with losing his ability to work in the way he was used to. But one day he sat down and wrote out what was important in life. I had forgotten about that and just happened to find it a couple of days ago. These are John’s words:
1) Health and happiness
2) Wife and kids (family)
3) Home and necessary assets (not ritzy!)
4) Work and community
5) Caring and sharing (friends)
He wrote down “Remember your happy place” and “It’s alright to make mistakes as long as you learn from them. That’s how we learn”. Wise words if you ask me. It took some time to get his epilepsy under control. Since he couldn’t drive, he needed to work from home, and share-trading fit the bill. He studied the market for some time, then plunged in with our savings to try and increase them. He said it was a bit like going to the casino but over time, he had more wins than losses and the bank balance began to grow again.
With a home and an income, we thought it was time to start our family. Friends and relatives had long given up asking us when we were going to get married and have kids, when in 2004 I became pregnant and in March 2005 our daughter Ella was born. John was so proud and happy. Twelve months later I went back to work and he stayed home with our little girl, raising her until she was ready to go to school. He was so patient and very hands on, crawling around on the floor with her when she was little, then as she grew playing with dolls and blocks and later teaching her to cook and play music.
Things were so wonderful, we started to think about having another child. Four years later, to the day, Melissa was born. Now he had two adoring children to love. John was there for the birth of both his girls, supporting and encouraging me the whole time. When they were born, he proudly contacted all our friends to let them know. He was always so gentle and patient with his girls. He believed learning should be fun, and every day was an opportunity for learning, so that made for a lot of fun days! I would come home from work and the windows would be rattling from the volume of the music playing while they cooked or built Lego sets or made cars or planes out of cardboard boxes. If the girls were struggling with something at school, he would find a different way to explain it to them so that they understood. I would often marvel at the lengths he went to for us.
As time passed, our joy grew. He had achieved a loving family unit which was mostly harmonious. We owned our home by this time and things were looking good. His epilepsy was finally under control and even though he had to face getting skin cancers removed regularly, including some serious ones, all in all he was content with life. In October 2016 John decided to treat himself and bought a beautiful, red Honda Fury motorbike. On days when he was feeling well, he would ride out to the mountains and enjoy the beauty surrounding him. Sometimes we girls would follow him in the car, stopping to picnic at scenic lookouts or trek down to where waterfalls cascaded over river rocks into icy waterholes. It was magical.
As his 50th birthday approached I started to wonder, what could I give my awesome man that would show him how much I loved and adored him and how grateful I was for all he had given us? It was a leap year, so I decided to ask him to marry me. I organized a surprise birthday party, calling as many of his old mates as I could locate. After the party they all went home, and I popped the question. To my relief, he said yes! Two weeks later, on Valentine’s Day, he presented me with a beautiful engagement ring. We discussed different wedding options from time to time but couldn’t seem to agree on how to get hitched. The wedding was put on the back burner. About a year later, tired of waiting for me, John went ahead and organized our wedding day. We had been going to Stradbroke Island for family holidays since the girls were little, so he booked accommodation on the island, contacted our closest friends, even bought me a beautiful dress. When everything was set, he told me the wedding would be in December. It was such a beautiful, relaxed day.
John noticed a painful spot under his tongue just before his birthday in January this year. He went to his doctor, then his dentist, but they couldn’t identify what was wrong. He was referred to a specialist in early February, who sent him to the Royal Brisbane Hospital. They did further tests and on the 25th of February he was told there were cancer markers throughout his whole body. John told me the outlook wasn’t good, but he was going to fight and buy as much time as he could. While waiting for treatment to begin, the pain became unbearable and he had to be admitted to the Princess Alexandra hospital in early March. He was able to come home for a couple of weeks at the end of March, but by Easter he had taken a turn for the worse and had to return to hospital.
Because of tightening of the Covid-19 restrictions, our girls were no longer able to visit him at the PA and I could only go for 1 hour a day. This was almost unbearable both for him and for us. His condition continued to deteriorate and following a meeting with medical staff, John was transferred to the QE2 Palliative Care unit where we were able to visit him and spend more time together. The second day he was there, just last Thursday, we had a beautiful morning together. We took our dogs up to visit him and all sat together out on the back deck. As we brought him outside, he raised his fist to the sky and said “Freedom”. He sat looking out at the trees and pointed out a hibiscus bush that he could see in the distance which we hadn’t noticed. John was good at noticing things others didn’t see.
While he was at the PA hospital, I asked John if there was anyone he wanted to speak to or have visit him. He said no. He wanted his friends to remember him as he was. A cheeky smile, a twinkle in his eye and love in his heart. Our lives will never be the same without him and the world is a poorer place. We are blessed to have known and loved John Flynn. Read full eulogy here.
From the moment I open my eyes in the morning until I close them again at night, I miss you and think about you and the times we spent together.
We have gathered here today to commemorate the life of a great man. This man was formally known as Edward, but everyone called him John. To Melissa and I, he was dad. I would like to share a few memories with you today. My first ever memory of my dad was playing barbies with him. Mum would be at work, and I would convince dad to play barbies with me. When it was time for lunch, the barbies had to get dressed into fancy outfits, so they would be dressed in evening gowns and high heels. Dad would partake in my shenanigans, but one day he didn’t put the barbies in high heels. He put barbie in scuba flippers. I told dad that you can’t go to lunch in flippers, but dad believed you could. That was the thing about dad, he was always making jokes, which leads me to my next memory. For as long as I can remember dad and I had a game. He would peel fruit stickers off the fruit and stick them on me or my things. I would retaliate. Over the years, this turned into World War 3. For Christmas in 2018, I covered a piece of paper in fruit stickers, then laminated it and gave it to him. The lamination was so he could not use the stickers to retaliate. Another all-out assault I launched was the one on his phone case, which I have with me today. As you can see, the sticker build-up on this is absolutely magnificent. This happened because dad never touched his mobile, so it was the perfect place for stickers to congregate. The last time I saw him, I told dad I would finish it for him. I intend on doing that, so all sticker donations are welcome. Another thing dad did with me was make me my Ella-Plane wings when I was about three. He cut two triangles of cardboard out, wrote Ella-Plane on them and gave them to me to colour in. When they were finished, he put elastic through them so I could strap them on and pretend to fly. Dad also had a bit of an obsession with choc-chip muffins. Every time I was going to bake, he would ask for choc-chip muffins. One time, I decided to make brownies and put the recipe out on the bench, then went to walk the dogs. When I got back, the brownie recipe was gone and in its place was the choc-chip muffin recipe. Another thing dad did was call me short and Mel tall, even though I am the taller out of the both of us. These examples prove what a great man my dad was. He will be remembered as someone kind, selfless and loving. Thank you.
My dad was the best father in the world. Even though I was little, we did so many things together when mum and Ella were at work and school. I have a few vivid memories I would like to share as my last goodbye to my dad. We cooked together all the time, making honey cakes and chocolate crackles. He would put on some music and set up the video camera and recorded us. I remember when I got a lego set that involved technic lego, he was patient enough to help me and I also remember building a trainset with him that was huge. I remember building a little red house with him and playing a wonderful game of pretend. One day, I had to stay home from school and we had a test that day, I was upset and sacred that I wouldn’t be able to do it when I got back to school, but then daddy taught me how to find the area in irregular shapes, and many other things. Then I was ahead of the class. There are so many wonderful memories like lighting the new fireplace for the first time and setting up the Wii and playing Mario Kart terribly. There are so many memories I would love to share, but we would be here until the end of time. From dive bombing mum and Ella in the swimming pool, to waking up on Christmas day and exchanging presents, to him playing toy boats with me in the bath when I was really small. Dad was always there for me and I hope his spirit will always be with us. He was an amazing father and I wish he didn’t have to leave us. I just think that all the pain and all the hurt is gone and dad is happy, and free. The last day I saw him, when we took him out on the deck at the hospital, there was one thing that he said when we came outside. “Freedom!” and now he is free. Thank you for being the best dad in the universe.
Some words from Maria Davies, John’s mother-in-law I truly started to admire, respect and appreciate John when I saw how he cared for my grandchildren. He was always patient with them, playing barbies with them or building sandcastles with them, and one thing I truly admire about John was how he respected his children. He always treated them equals, even when they were little. Besides teaching them things needed for school, such as maths, he taught the children morals, such as kindness, sharing and learning to forgive. You could see how much he loved them. He truly was the best father in the world. He made my daughter very, very happy and he always respected her. They really are soulmates.
My memories of John Flynn - from Kate Welch, a close friend of Irene’s John was a very generous and thoughtful man with a big heart. He loved his girls and he shared his love of music with them. And he adored Irene. It was an honour to be at their wedding. John could not stop beaming. It was hard to believe that they had been together for over 30 years. As John watched his Irene walk towards him, he looked as though he had just fallen head over heels in love for the first time and all his prayers had been answered. And they were answered as Irene finally agreed to become Mrs Flynn. The wedding day was very much John and Irene, easy going and full of love and joy. John will be sadly missed by many. He was a big man who has left an even bigger hole in a lot of lives, but he also leaves us with many wonderful memories.
A Lovely tribute for a man who was loved by all. We will miss him very much. Read full message here.
It was so windy yesterday. We made paper kites and took them to the footy field to fly in memory of you. Magic afternoon John, you would have loved it.
We are very shock to find out you left so suddenly John. You will be greatly missed and will always be in our hearts. Heartfelt condolences to Irene, Ella, Mel and the family.
The other day John, your girls Ella and Melissa made a promise. They promised they are going to live their lives by Daddy's rules. What a beautiful way to honour their Dad, whom they both loved very much.
How do we begin to condense 35 years of friendship, fun and memories into a few small paragraphs of words? Dave and I first met John back in the mid ‘80’s. Dave & Lea knew John from John visiting our house….. John & Irene knew Dave from Dave visiting their house ….. But Lea & Irene had not met. It was John’s suggestion that we should all get together so we girls could meet …. And that was the beginning of years of great friendship between us all, lots of fun and many adventures we all shared together. To highlight just a few: • Afternoon jamming sessions • Weekend or afternoon bike rides • Beach camping • Impromptu weekend get-togethers or dinner invitations • Afternoon barbeques that turned into late nights sitting around a fire, whilst playing Yahtzee under the light of an old kero lantern in the middle of a dark, deserted picnic ground • Or just hanging out together, listening to music, talking, drinking and laughing. John’s laugh will stay with us as a special part of him and his relaxed, casual manner. We all shared so much of our lives together, with ups and downs, but our friendship remained strong throughout. We were always welcomed into John & Irene’s home like family. There is a saying I’m sure we’ve all heard that “friends are the family you choose for yourself” and we have always felt like part of John’s “Family of Friends”. We got to know many of his and Irene’s friends and we have all had many special times together. We each have our own special memories of John. He had a way of doing special little things that would come out of nowhere, when least expected, but would come from pure generosity. They would make a mark in a most special way and I’m sure he under estimated their value. We all grew older together and our lives changed in ways we had never imagined. Along came our children and our “Family of Friends” just grew larger. Some special times come to mind of small things that John did when Kelsey was just a tiny toddler but were so special to us. Like the time he spent setting up a video camera to their TV just so Kels could amuse herself by watching her own image on the television. Another is an amazing compilation of old video footage of Kelsey that John put together for us to the music “A little Ray of Sunshine”. It made me cry back then and it still does some 25 years later. And then we got to see John with his own two beautiful daughters. We have always felt welcomed into John’s home – even when he had to endure 5 noisy females taking over his dining room and going into “Hyper-Jibber”. That’s when he and Dave would lovingly retreat into another room, or even outside, with their trusty guitars for a quiet jam together. The unthinkable has happened and has rocked our lives. Our “Family of Friends” is reeling from our loss and our hearts are breaking for Irene, Ella and Melissa. John’s memory will remain in our hearts and in our home forever. Pasta will forevermore be lovingly known as “soggy bread” :) There is a house in Sunnybank Hills that will never be the same and the world is definitely a sadder place without you Flynnie. Too quick Too young Too soon So many treasured memories With our love xxx View full message
Lea, Dave & Kelsey
It’s been 3 weeks already dad and I still can’t believe it. I had this dream the other day, I’m sure you sent it to me. I dreamt that one of my friends had died and that you were comforting me, telling me that it was alright and that they were in a better place now. You also reminded me to look to the future and keep moving forwards, Thank you for sending me that message dad, I love you. View full message
Ella
It's 4 weeks today since you left us, John. Not a moment goes by that we don't think about you and miss you. Our grief colours every moment with sadness. Your memories are everywhere around us, but we cannot hold you or hear you. It hurts so much to be without you. All our love from your girls... Irene, Ella and Melissa.