Warwick Werner 2020

Email from Stig Falster 12 Aug 2020:

With much regret, I passing of Warwick Werner who lost his battle with oesophageal cancer on Saturday night.

He missed the last reunion at Avondale as he was having chemo treatment at the time. We did toast him on the night as an absentee.

There is no date for the funeral at this time as his son has flown in from the UK and is currently in quarantine.

Geoff Webb is in touch with the family and my thanks to him for letting me (us) know what’s happening.

Karl Werner - son

Thank you all for coming. This is a tough time made even more complicated by events

out of our control and we appreciate the effort you’ve all made to be here today. We

also appreciate everyone respecting the various social distancing rules we must abide

by (and after 14 days in a hotel room, I know better than most how hard those rules

can be at times!). My own family was unable to travel with me to be here today, but

Rosy, Mikayla and Cooper all send their love and thoughts and wish they could be

here.

With that in mind, we unfortunately will not be holding any additional gathering after

this service. We will look forward to seeing each and all of you in the future as time

and circumstances allow.

With that out of the way, it now falls to me to begin this opportunity to remember Dad.

Born in 1948, the first son of a lecturer, Ron and a secretary, Val, Dad was soon

joined by his sister, Sharyn and, later, his brother Stephen. Although they lived in a

number of houses, much of Dad’s childhood was spent in a house in Turramurra - or

perhaps more correctly, in a tree house in the bush behind a house in Turramurra. As

with many families at that time, dad was given a great deal of free rein - allowed to go

out and play for the whole day and being summoned back to home with a cowbell -

Dad had fond memories of school holidays spent with his grandparents in Randwick

and learning to swim in the baths at Coogee, fireworks nights (with the odd out of

control bonfire) and many other adventures with his partner in crime, John Elfverson.

Through High School, dad was in the founding year at Asquith Boys High, and hence

always the oldest. He made many lifelong friends - participating in an old boys’ email

group in recent years - rebuilding old connections (as far as I can gather this mainly

consisted of sharing bad Memes and worse jokes...).

Even as a child, Dad had an interest in architecture, cutting out pictures and designs

of houses to collect. This became a passion that led to studying Architecture and

Landscaping at the University of NSW and it’s fair to say permeated our entire families

lives - childhood visits to building sites, piles of rolled up plans around the house,

sharpening pencils with a blade (never a pencil sharpener), unfinished houses and

more photos of buildings than people. Dad’s passion for design and architecture is a

theme you will undoubtedly hear all of us comment on and was one of the defining

aspects of his life.

In 1971 and still studying, Dad married mum and they moved into their first home in

Artarmon. This was followed by a town house in North Ryde, bought off the plan

alongside other friends and family (Geoff and Julie Webb, David and Laime Hicks, the

Mackays and Sharyn and Phil). Clearly many a good time was had in that complex,

and soon enough, I was born.

1976 to 1986 was a busy decade for mum and dad. After I was born they bought land

in Avalon, moved into a rented home round the corner from it, became pregnant with

Elke, moved to Canberra, had Elke, had Heidi, moved to Perth, moved back to Sydney

and finally got started building a house on the land they had bought nearly 10 years

earlier.

I have many particularly fond memories of our time in Perth and of Dad being, well,

Dad. Family holidays in Rockingham, where the mums and kids all piled into cars

while the fathers sailed down the coast from Fremantle - they said it was a race - but

with the wisdom of age, I can now see the genius in their plan! Although Dad was

never particularly sporty he did have a passion for sailing - from Hobie cats to much

bigger yachts. he always loved being out on the water. Memories of summer mornings

on Cottesloe beach, buying crabs from the caravan seafood shop and racing home to

eat them in the back yard before the Fremantle doctor came in (and of course making

the crab claws move by pulling the tendon). Or of riding round a farm and the Dads

wading through waist deep dams trawling nets to catch karnacs (basically small

yabbies) that would taken back to the house and boiled up for dinner. For me, these

are memories of a father who loved doing stuff with his family and took great pleasure

in making sure the kids were having a great day.

Dad loved good story or anecdote - and our time in Perth in particular seemed to be a

limitless source of funny situations - stories we’ve all heard (and some were participant

in!) of gangster builders, giant chef’s moustaches with salt grinders to match and

apartment doors being broken. Sometimes I do wonder how the Hyatt in Perth is still

standing!

For me, Dad was always a father who was willing to make the time - whether it was

helping with homework, early morning drop-offs for band practice or late night pick-ups

after finishing the midnight shift at McDonalds, teaching us how to make pizza or draw

a cat or just playing games with us, he always had the time to spend with his kids and

that continued to his grandchildren.

Dad was a central figure in our family life. As you will hear from Elke, Heidi the

grandkids and mum, through his dedication, enthusiasm and love he shaped our

personalities, our careers and the way we are now bringing up our own families. His

presence will be missed greatly and his memories will continue to guide us and shape

us.

Thank you.

Mandy Werner - Wife

In 1967 I went to a disco in Lindfield called “du Val’s”. There I met an architecture student in a

grey polo jumper, who later drove me home in his VW Beetle. 4 years later we were married.

Next January would have been 50 years.

Life with an architect is never dull. We saw a lot of buildings, cathedrals and famous places in

our travels. I learned a few things, never forgotten: natural light is imperative in house design,

always paint your walls white and always use D handles on doors and cupboards.

One thing always stumped me: how could a man capable of designing a beautiful building

that actually stood up, hang up the washing in such a circumspect manner?

Warwick was so very proud of our three children. He followed their lives and careers with

loving interest and assistance. Later he did the same with our grandchildren. His greatest

pleasure was seeing the kids, even when, on rare occasion all 8 came together in a rowdy

bunch. He loved them with all his heart.

Architecture was his love and interest all his life, but in later years, his interests diversified. He

studied Egyptology and learned hieroglyphics so he could translate the carvings on his

collection of Shabtis.

Still later it was modern history. Who else would read, in entirety, all 6 volumes of Churchill’s

diaries during the long hours of Chemotherapy?

I will always admire his calm acceptance of the diagnosis a year ago. We spent a lot of time

close together during this period and I am grateful for that. He endured a difficult illness with

humour and dignity. He leaves a huge hole in all our lives. I hope we can fill it with happy

loving memories.

I am forever grateful to Karl, Elke and Heidi for the amazing love and support they gave us at

this time.

Dearest Warwick,

A man of intellect, humour and integrity. Generous with his time & knowledge. A good friend

and brother, an occasional self-confessed “Grumpy Old Man”. A lover of design, art, history,

cooking, cats, gardens and European cars. But most of all a wonderful & loving Dad, Grandpa

and my best, beloved friend and husband.

It breaks our hearts to say goodbye.