From carpenter to reporter and editor
Year round, Barry was usually found in shorts, singlet and bare feet.
Former Palmerston North news reporter and Manawatu¯ rugby representative Barry Leader died at his Brown’s Bay, Auckland, home on October 28, aged 83.
Like his wife, Barry left school at 15, as most did in the 1950s. Barry served a carpenter’s apprenticeship while working for his father Bob Leader’s construction firm, RER Leader, in Palmerston North.
In 1957, Barry married Manawatu¯ Evening Standard ‘‘lady editor’’ Glenda Thomas after meeting on a New Plymouth-to-palmerston North train returning from a Manawatu¯ versus Taranaki rugby game.
Not long after meeting, Barry told Glenda he would love to be a reporter, so she suggested he apply for a job.
Barry knew Doug Davie, the editor of themanawatu¯ Daily News morning newspaper, through rugby, so asked him for a job.
Doug said he thought Barry was too old to learn to be a journalist (he was all of 23), but three days later phoned and offered him the full-time job of sports reporter.
Although he found it tough at first, Barry quickly caught on and never looked back. He was a natural, with a flair for writing clear, concise prose.
He soon became the sports editor, then chief reporter, finding himself teaching the young cadet reporters. The young reporters thrived under his leadership.
Two other staff members became lifelong friends: Chief photographer Ross Kenward and cartoonist Murray Ball. Sadly all three of them are now gone.
In 1960, Barry was offered a job with the Bay of Plenty Beacon in Whakatane.
Barry, Glenda and elder daughter Carla lived there for a year then returned to Palmerston North, where daughter Lisa was born.
Barry, along with his brother Bob and their father, built their ultra-modern Hokowhitu house, adapted from an Australian home magazine by Glenda. The house, with its front wall of river stones, recently resold and still looks as up to date now.
In 1966, with their 5- and 7-year-old daughters, the couple worked their way to England by sending articles about New Zealand passengers to their home newspapers, posted at every stop of the Chandris Lines ship Ellinis by the pursers.
They were given an office, and later a better cabin for the family, where they interviewed and wrote every day. The girls played in the large playroom and the couple partied every night while the pursers minded the passengers’ children.
In London, Barry worked on two weekly newspapers before the family travelled Europe, living in a tent.
They lived in the Greek port city of Piraeus, where huge ships glided past the end of their street for about six months. The girls, now 5 and almost 8, became bilingual, spending all their time playing with the local children and being fed by their generous mamas.
From Greece, the family went to Canberra, where Barry worked as a subeditor for the Canberra Times. They returned briefly to Palmerston North where son Nicholas (Nick) was born in 1969, then back to Canberra for another year.
When the family returned to Palmerston North again, Barry worked as a subeditor for the Manawatu¯ Evening Standard.
In the 1970s, Barry bought the ferrocement hull of a 39-foot yacht. It sat in the family home front yard for 10 years while he built the yacht.
In 1980, Barry, Glenda and Nick moved to Auckland so Barry could launch the ‘‘Carlisa’’ and teach himself and Nick to sail. Over the next 30 years, the family, now including five grandchildren (and later three great grandchildren) had numerous, memorable trips on ‘‘Barry’s Boat’’.
In Auckland, Barry worked as a night sub-editor at the New Zealand Herald.
Barry’s last job was as reporter/editor/photographer for Farm Equipment News, driving all over New Zealand to farms in both small towns and cities, getting stories and photos, then writing and editing them. He loved it.
Over the years Barry had multiple job offers and opportunities, but he preferred to work as a reporter. Barry was a staunch union leader and many a strike party was held at the family’s Palmerston North home.
Barry’s motto was: ‘‘I don’t believe anything anyone tells me, I just believe they told me something’’ – which didn’t make it easy for his teenagers to pull the wool over his eyes.
Barry was a one-off – a powerhouse. As so many of his friends, former colleagues, cadet reporters and his children and grandchildren say – he was a legend.
Year round, Barry was usually found in shorts, singlet and bare feet. His intellect, quick wit and outrageous sense of humour were second to none.
Barry died peacefully in his sleep, just a few days before his and Glenda’s 60th wedding anniversary.