Dear Judy, Kate, James and Peter and family, I was very fond of Rob and devastated to hear of his death. I met when he installed a program in the computer of the Victorian Ambulance Magazine in North Melbourne more than 20 years ago. On subsequent visits to Melbourne he stayed at my home in Williamstown where we developed a wonderful bond over our mutual love of the bush and Australian explorers. Rob was the best humoured, intelligent and generous man. I loved our talks over the phone and via email. The Bobby Dazzler was always a delight to read and I loved to comment on his blog which seemed to amuse him. I can’t imagine how devastated you and your extended family must be. I am crying with you for the loss of one of the best men I’ve met. Love and deepest sympathy to you all Anne Newton
When I was down, he helped me up
I have been stunned and greatly saddened by Rob's passing. And as I write, tears are forming… Rob was a huge influence in my life; I admired him very much. He was wise and gentle, insightful and engaging, and passionate about the quest for understanding about all things spiritual. I first met Rob when he was president of Summer Hill Action Group, which was formed in 1985 to fight the intention of Ashfield's mayor to build an eleven-story building in the carpark at Summer Hill. Through his wisdom, and calm-yet-engaging demeanour, Rob was able to unite the various folk in the group and commence action to fight the building. We ultimately won out and changed the nature of Council. A few years later, I started attending St Stephens at Newtown, that spiritual haven for people seeking to escape the rigidity of fundamentalist Christianity and Sydney Diocese Anglicanism whilst furthering their quest for understanding of life, the universe and everything. The atmosphere at St Stephens of family, acceptance, enquiry, grace and fun that Rob and Patricia, and of course Don Meadows, had all helped to create was simply wonderful. My time at St Stephens was an extremely significant period of transition in my life and Rob was at the centre of this. Without Rob and the haven at St Stephens’, I would be a different person today. There was a small group of us from St Stephens who met fortnightly on Sunday nights to explore all things relating to Christianity; called The Group. We usually met at the Brennan’s home at Summer Hill, and talked about the historical Jesus, explored books that opened up new ways of thinking about God and Christianity, and what it meant to live, love and die. The ideas and concepts that we discussed became pivotal in my beliefs and my quest for understanding all things Christian. These gatherings were a highlight of my week. When Rob turned 50, Patricia organised an evening bus trip so he and all his friends could visit significant places in his life. We had refreshments on the Harbour at Blues Point on the Harbour, and Patricia had asked me to serenade the guests with my saxophone. A 50th party with a difference. For a few years, Rob (piano), Carol (flute) and I were in a band called the Nonpareil. And yes, we were incomparable - we had Rob in our team. Our first gig was at a small French restaurant in Hampton in the Blue Mts. The place was packed, and we had the crowd dancing on the tables; Rob’s piano playing was wonderful, full of energy and life. After that gig and with some other friends, the Nonpareil provided the musical entertainment for two years at that wonderful St Stephens annual event, the Saturday night dinner. What terrific fun it was! I also recall one night when we were rehearsing in St Andrew’s Church Summer Hill, Rob had brought some beers for refreshment, and I recall him being ticked off by the Rector for bringing beers into the church. Given the Brennan family history with that Church pre St Stephens, that was a real twist of fate. In 1996, I was one of Bobby Dazzler’s earlier clients; Rob and I drove back from Alice Springs via all sorts of places I had no idea existed. What a marvellous host and tour guide Rob was. It was simply brilliant. Rob, thank you for all the wisdom and inspiration you have given me over the years. You were a wonderful man and have had a profound influence on who I am today. Although I haven’t seen you for a few years, I have thought about you very fondly many times. I will miss you greatly and your wonderful Bobby D tales. Glenn Leembruggen
Our Rob, gently carried to his place of rest by his beautiful family.
Our Rob, gently carried to his place of rest by his beautiful family.
He helped me up when I was down
Dear Kate, James, Judy, and other family members I don’t know, I’m very sad I’m not able to join you on Saturday to remember and give thanks for Rob’s life and to weep and laugh together. What a privilege to have known him! We first met in the early 80s when he and Patricia came to Brisbane to meet up with Monica Furlong at the start of her visit to Australia. I remember Rob’s genuine warmth and wit in those early MOW years. I loved his quiet way of enquiring and sharing how things were going, faith-wise, whenever we met. In my early ignorance I was gob-smacked to discover the extent of the Sydney-Melbourne divide over theological differences. I admired Rob’s support of Patricia, especially when some pretty hateful stuff was being thrown at her. His obvious love of his family. His willingness to oblige at the piano when we needed to sing yet another one of our parodied hymns or when Pope Diane Heath and Archbishop Patricia of Canterbury needed his accompaniment as they sang “Anything you baptise I baptise better”. (or was it whiter?) I remember the Sydney MOW bus pulling up outside our house in Melbourne for a recovery meal after they’d managed to make it to St Paul’s Cathedral for the first ordination service. This weary, unapologetically bolshy and joyful band of faithful interstate travellers had been given a distinctly cool welcome on their arrival at St. Paul’s. I remember a trip to Innaminka Nick and I did with Patricia and Rob in the 90s. In a frank conversation on the verandah of the Tibooburra pub, the Walters and the Brennans had to admit that our interests for the rest of the trip were incompatibly different. Without further ado, under a lone tree in the middle of a vast paddock outside Tibooburra, we shared a rueful last cuppa at the Brennan’s card table. (Patricia insisted on spreading the checked tablecloth). As the two 4WDs drove off in opposite directions, a dust storm rolled in, the sky went dark and the temperature soared. I find it an endearing irony that the last email contact I had with Rob a couple of months ago was over a story of a Mercedes driverless car engineer who found Melbourne’s infamous “hook turns” quite impossible to program. As a Sydney driver who had stuffed up not a few hook turns of his own, Rob was vindicated. I will always treasure the fact that he and Judy made it to my 70th party in Geelong last March. This rough tribute brings my fondest love, and Nick’s too. We will be with you all in spirit on Saturday afternoon. Raising a glass. Singing a hymn. Thanking God for this beautiful man. May he rest In peace and rise in glory. And may we never forget him. Linda Walter
Thanks Linda xxx
Rob, Thanks for fifty-plus years of friendship. For ukuleles and twelve-bar blues. For the Simpson crossing and all those marvelous long lunches we shared by the river. Missing you already, mate. Pete. Nothing in death or life nothing in the world as it is nothing in world as it should be nothing in all creation can separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord. [Paul – who knew a thing or two about it.]
With his beautiful Ma and Brother Pete
Bush poetry event 2016
A bright, refreshing spirit has taken wing and left us all a grateful world for his presence among us. And yet, whilst he was here our lives were brighter, laughter-filled and warm in his presence and now our memories. Oh! Kate, be glad you had such a wonderful father.
Hello - can you please leave your name x Kate
Rob and Judy with Helen Carlaw, enjoying a well deserved rest during the 1990 trek to the Khumbu in Nepal.
Rob celebrating Christmas 1990 at Dingboche, Nepal (altitude 4,350m)
This photo is of Rob and some of his trek companions in Nepal celebrating unfamiliar religious rituals. (Photo from Steve)
Rob and Judy in Nepal in 1990. They were both a bit unprepared and were finding the going a bit tough this day! (Photo from Steve's collection)
Rob was my rock on the other side of the world, someone who listened, without prejudice or judgement. My husband referred to Rob as a Gentle Giant (we're both short on stature) and a man who had a peace loving soul. What I loved the most about Rob was that he loved people, all people. He could identify with those less fortunate, the common people or those with greater stature. It didn't matter. He once apologized to me on behalf of the world for the atrocities that the Native Americans endured, and he meant it. He had strong opinions on many difficult subjects (religion, politics, gun control, education, war and peace etc.) but welcomed discussion with an open mind. We met in the early 70's when he and Patricia traveled the world shortly after marriage. I feel privileged and honored to have known this remarkable couple. Our hearts go out to Kate, Peter, James, Judy Berry and your families. You were the breath and light of his life. I know your minds and hearts are full of memories of Rob, as ours are too. Find comfort in them for Native Americans believe that your loved one's spirit is talking to you whenever you think of them. Rest in peace, our dear friend, Rob. Tom & Eveon
Thankyou x
I am Michael Brennan, Robert’s cousin. My father Harold was the youngest brother of Arthur, Robert’s father. In my early childhood we lived in adjacent streets: we at the Boulevarde Sans Souci, the Arthur Brennans in Vista Street. We saw quite a lot of Robert and Peter, my older brothers David and Geoff being contemporaries, and in the same classes at Sans Souci primary school. In David’s case I think another cousin Bill (William Armstrong) was also in the same class – I remember a convincing portrayal of Friar Tuck aided by insecurely placed pillows at a school play. David and Robert both went on to Sydney High School, and I remember going to a drama evening to see David star as a footsoldier at the battle of Agincourt, and Robert participate in a choral verse-speaking rendition of Edgar Allen Poe’s “The Bells” – bells, bells, bells, bells, bells, bells. Then, in 1957, when I was 8 years old, our family left Sans Souci to go and live in Broken Hill, where Dad was posted as a teacher. It was our first dose of outback life, and although we were in the Silver City, there was desert all around for hundreds of miles. Dad was a great lover of the outdoors, and the origin of that lay partly in a teenage visit to Uncle Arthur when he was share-farming near Cootamundra. From that time onward, my meetings with Robert and Peter were confined to our annual Christmas sojourn in Sydney, and I don’t recollect seeing either of them from about 1961. My memory of Robert was of a tall and lean young man, quiet and contrasting with the more portly and ebullient Peter. We had occasional reports of their doings through our parents’ meetings. I was surprised and very pleased to have a communication from Robert in about 2005, saying that he wanted to organise a gathering of the Brennan family, and that family connections were very important and valuable. I’ve lived in the UK since 1977, so I wasn’t able to attend, but I replied positively, but remarking ironically that it was about 50 years since we’d had any contact. The gathering took place, and Robert sent photographs, and also a memoir of our grandparents James and Emily, detailing the Brennan history, and the subsequent generations. The senior cousin Charlie was proclaimed clan Chief, a clan motto and coat of arms were devised, and cards sent to family members for their birthdays. Being in self-imposed exile I found these gestures very supportive. I made contact with Robert over family history matters which he had asked me to investigate as a UK resident. During my last Australian visit in 2009 I visited Rob with my Aussie son Tim, and we had a very enjoyable Mediterranean style lunch at the flat in Hilly Street, just down the road from the old gasworks site where I had worked in the late ‘60s. During that visit I organised a lunch in Berrima which many of my Brennan cousins attended. Unfortunately Rob and Patricia were prevented from attending by the death of Patricia’s mother. We had a speech from Charlie, and sang the Irish folk song “Brennan on the Moor”. We also paid a visit to old family holiday haunts in Mittagong, Wandevan and Oaklands (now rediscovered as the Fitzroy Inn). I also travelled with my younger brother Warwick back to Broken Hill 50 years on, and we went on a Sturt excursion to Milparinka, Tibooburra and Cameron Corner, returning via White Cliffs and Mutawintji (Warwick and I had been there under very different management in 1959), camping out along the way by creek beds and sand dunes. Rob and I compared outback experiences, and I became a recipient of the Bobby Dazzler newsletter. In August 2010 I had a phone call from a rather weary Rob to say that he and Patricia were at an uncertain location in Wales. I suggested that they come and visit if it was possible for them, but I was in the middle of haymaking on my Welsh borders smallholding. Judith was going to visit one of her sisters, but made up a bed for them just in case. They arrived the next day at about 4pm, and Rob came and joined the merry band of volunteers helping to carry in the hay bales. That seemed very appropriate to me in view of our fathers’ agricultural time together at Cootamundra back in about 1930. We had a very enjoyable evening together, discussing personal and family history, the Australian outback and our various experiences and impressions. Rob and Patricia had to head back to London the next day, but had had bad experiences there, and I suggested that they go and stay in Amersham in Buckinghamshire, where our grandmother’s Dumbarton family had emigrated from. They stayed at the Saracens Head pub, coincidentally just a few hundred yards from where our great-grandfather Charles Dumbarton had spent his early childhood in the 1840s. Rob kept in touch through Bobby Dazzler. My neighbour Angus Snow has a long-standing enthusiasm for Australia and the outback, and he became a Dazzler reader too. I think he has already sent a message of condolence. Angus and I have continued to share our interest, stimulated by the Dazzler. There we have read of Rob’s travels and observations, as well as his life’s journey: Patricia’s illness and death, Peter’s cycling marathons, his illness and death, Rob’s newfound relationship with Judy, and most recently the marvellous account of Kate’s pilgrimage on the Bibbulmun track. I feel very glad that I was reconnected with Rob, entirely thanks to his initiatives. Considering the very long period without contact, it seems extraordinary that we have such strong interests in common. My lasting impression is of a man willing and driven to share his enthusiasms: family heritage and fellowship; outback experiences, impressions and observations; life experiences and emotions, anguish and joy; and the associated spiritual journey. Judith, Tim and Emily join me in sending our condolences, and in lamenting with you the passing of Rob. Thank you and farewell Bobby Dazzler. Yours sincerely Michael Brennan
Rob’s life had so many many facets ... In the Movement for the Ordination of Women, founded by Patricia back in 1983, he was unfailingly supportive, thoughtful, respectful, encouraging, obliging, generous, calm, patient, and witty in his inimitable way. His reflections in MOW magazines under the heading ‘One man went to MOW’ were prescient. He accompanied the MOW Cabaret singers in their hilarious and cathartic performances. And he drove the ‘MOW Freedom Bus’ from Sydney to Melbourne, via Canberra and Wangaratta, for the first ordinations of women in the Anglican Church in Australia, at St Paul’s in Melbourne on 9 February 1986. Here is the group and Patricia’s article from Church Scene, the national church newspaper. Vale Rob, and thank you. Janet Scarfe, MOW President 1989-1995.
On our 1990 trek in Nepal, everyone was asked to bring a small luxury item to share with the group. So as to not be outdone, and because it was Christmas, Rob brought a large tinned Christmas pudding and a litre carton of UHT custard. This was not in Rob's backpack, but in his kitbag which was carried by a porter. One day, when we arrived at our campsite, Rob found that his porter had tied his load more tightly than usual. The litre container of custard had exploded in his kitbag, and all of his clothes (except those he was wearing) were soaked in custard. Poor "custard Brennan" had to wash everything in near freezing water. He wore his pale pink trousers for the remaining fortnight of the trek - they were a fine sight by the time we returned to Kathmandu. The photo is of Rob and most of the group in our dining tent. (from the left - Steve, Peter G., Jane J., Rob, David, Peter T., Jane H., Helen R. - Helen C. missing, & Judy was behind the camera!).
From 29th November 1990 to 6 January 1991 Rob and Judy trekked with me and a group of friends in Nepal. We went to the Khumbu region on a tough 27 day trek, climbing to Gokyo Ri (4790m), over the Chola La (5330m), then to Kala Pattar (5540m) near Mount Everest. This was long before Judy & Rob became an item. Seven of us from the group had a wonderful reunion late last year - Rob, Judy, Jane, Helen & Steve, and Helen and me (David). It was wonderful that we all still felt very close after such a long time. The photo is of the full group and a few of our support staff on the top of Kala Pattar.
Although I only met Rob in person a handful of times we have shared an email and phone friendship for many years. Although technically a business friendship founded on a love of the bush, Rob and I discussed many and varied topics from international politics, our grief over the loss of loved ones and hope over new relationships. His wisdom and philosophy were always to be admired but I think the enduring qualities I will remember in Rob are his love for the Australian Bush, for his fellow man and his deep and abiding love for his family. Rest easy my friend. From Jo and all of the Westprint Mob (especially Graeme, John and Bev).
Incredibly saddened to hear of Rob's passing. This is my mother Janet's favourite photo of him. It is he and I at a St Stephen's camp at some point in the late 80s. My father Craig also sends his deep condolences.
Thankyou for this. I remember this picture and camp well . Captures his beautiful ability to connect wuth kids.
Comeroo and the bottle pick up run
Comeroo dinner
Comeroo at the end of a long drive
Hypnotising Emus
Friends along the road
This is thy hour, O Soul; Thy free flight into the wordless Away from books, from art. The day erased; the lesson done. Thee fully forth emerging, Silent, gazing... Pondering the themes thou lovest best: Night, sleep, death, and the stars. -- Walt Whitman
I will never forget Rob. Every time he came here (probably been here 20 or more times)he used to go on the camel wagon to the bore bath.on the way we used to pick up bottles and cans on the road guess who's job that was .no other than JB when he got off we used to make the camels run in the wagon. Poor old JB wonder he didnt have a heart attack years ago. We will always remember him as a great friend who we enjoyed camping with and hearing his yarns and poetry. RIP john from all at Comeroo Camel Stn
Bobby Dazzler with his 2nd Grandson!
Kate Brennan
6 years agoThankyou Anne