OBITUARY: John Frederick Deacon (JD) October 29, 1942 – February 7, 2018 Old-time mates farewell a league giant
When the hearse carrying John Deacon arrived at the Panthers league clubrooms for his farewell, it was driven slowly around the grounds before stopping at the halfway line.
John’s son, Rusty, got out and, using John’s whistle, blew full time for the league stalwart and referee.
They come tough in Nga¯ ruawa¯ hia league circles, but that final blast left more than a few misty eyes among John’s old-time mates who had gathered in their hundreds to farewell a giant of the local game.
John, who for some time ran the drycleaners in the town, had his first game of league aged four and played through his 20s, before starting on more than 20 years refereeing around the country.
In addition, he coached the schoolboy league.
Loyalty to John ran deep. When John and Bev married in 1964 in St Pauls the Under 17s formed a guard of honour.
While John was lying at home, one of those boys, now an old boy himself, came to say his farewells.
Daughter Faith Denby remembers the family travelling to club grounds for games.
‘‘We slept in so many league car parks around the North Island. Dad would give us a pie, chips, and a coke, and say ‘won’t be long I just have to talk to so-in-so’.’’
Nephew Eugene Patterson told journalist Caitlin Moorby that John, who was a life member of Nga¯ ruawa¯ hia rugby league club, had done his time as an administrator and past president, and was an active member of the old boys’ club.
In addition, he was a life member, sometime administrator, and chairman of the Waikato rugby league referees’ association.
Bowls was another of John’s passions and he was a player, administrator, and past president of Nga¯ ruawa¯ hia bowling club.
He was still on the committee and due to play in a Taupiri tournament with his mates the day he died.
John had an encyclopaedic memory of the recent history of Nga¯ ruawa¯ hia and for his beloved league.
‘‘He could rattle off a game played between Nga¯ ruawa¯ hia and
Tu¯ rangawaewae way back in the 70s, describing in detail every tackle, every player, the score point-by-point, and who refereed.’’
It was fitting then that, when in the Irish tradition John lay at home, league members and supporters from Nga¯ ruawa¯ hia old boys. Turangawaewae, and Taniwharau, turned out to pay their respects. Many formally dressed in their blazers, they farewelled John with rousing renditions of the 28th Ma¯ ori Battalion song, Hoki Mai, and Whakaaria Mai.
The first meeting of the season was then held on the lawn, with the usual discussions about fixtures, and who would host the opening game.
John would have liked that.
But, to describe the man purely in terms of his love of league, would be a disservice.
John attended St Paul’s Catholic school before starting a dry-cleaning apprenticeship.
He later purchased the business and was responsible, for many years, for contracts with the Hopuhopu military camp, the Te Rapa air force base, and Affco’s Horotiu plant.
He sold up in preparation for what might very loosely be described, in his case, as his ‘‘retirement’’.
In fact, John stayed in the trade, starting a new venture, Decrease Ironing, from his lounge, with little more than a hand iron and the requisite table. He took in ironing from as far afield as Tamahere.
‘‘He was the master ironer. He’d set up shop in the lounge at 6.30am, and watch sport, and he would just iron and iron. He’d manage circular table cloths as big as the lounge all by hand,’’ Faith said.
John was, without any danger of exaggeration, an iconic figure around town, always impeccably turned out in hat and braces. He was a councillor with the Nga¯ ruawa¯ hia Borough from 1986 through to 1998, which amalgamated to Waikato District Council during his time in local government. It was John who was behind the new council’s offices moving to Nga¯ ruawa¯ hia and back into the district.
He served also on the Nga¯ ruawa¯ hia Community Board and was known for his passion for his community.
Faith said the council became his life. ‘‘In the end we resented it. His passion for this town took over, even when he lost his seat on the council, the community continued to seek his help.’’
During his time on council John was behind the truck underpass on State Highway One at Te Rapa dairy factory.
‘‘Dad’s stance on our rates and the water bills made him extremely unpopular with the Waikato District councillors and hierarchy. His concerns were for the older residents of the town. The community saw him as the champion for the underdog.
‘‘He didn’t like to see their value and contribution to this community overlooked by the local authority.’’
At his funeral, Faith paid tribute to a man who would walk the town’s streets for hours, every day, picking up rubbish and talking to everyone and anyone, including taggers caught in the act.
‘‘If he saw the young ones tagging or dropping rubbish he would approach them and say, ‘have pride in our town, it’s your heritage and we need to take care of it’. He would often be verbally and physically abused for this but over time these youths realised our Dad would not back down to them.’’
John would visit the elderly, especially if they were living alone. Only immediately prior to his funeral did his family discover that for years, each Wednesday on rubbish morning, he would go and put their bins and bags out for collection. In the afternoons, on the way to the pub, he would bring in their recycling bins.
‘‘He’d note any faults in footpaths and lights during his walks and he’d report them to council. He was in their ear 24/7 and he just wouldn’t give up. He made a few enemies as a community advocate.’’
Appearance mattered greatly to John. He would never leave the house without everything ironed and in place. His cap, his braces, the pen in his top pocket, and, of course, a pressed handkerchief.
‘‘He had a huge collection of hats and braces. He’d meet tourists in the Waipa¯ and the Delta hotel pubs and get talking. Then these braces would arrive from around the world, from New York and Europe. His grandchildren wore his braces and hats to the funeral.’’
The Nga¯ ruawa¯ hia community knew they’d lost one-of-a-kind when John died in his sleep.
Delta staff made sure freshly cooked food was delivered daily to the family. And, on the day of his funeral, the family returned home to find a bride had dropped off a share of her wedding banquet.
Eugene said that John was defined by his absolute dedication to his town.
‘‘He constantly challenged local council to ensure the best possible outcomes for Nga¯ ruawa¯ hia.
He was a tireless campaigner for the underdog. He would love to debate anything with anyone at any time. He was never afraid to speak his mind. He was old school, he believed in correctness and good morals.’’
John is survived by his wife of 53 years, Bev; children Faith, Kerry, Melissa and Rusty; 18 grandchildren; and eight great-grandchildren. John also was eagerly anticipating the arrival of two further great-grandchildren in the near future.
●➤ A Life Story tells of a New Zealander who helped to shape the Waikato community. If you know of someone whose life story should be told, please email Charles.riddle@wintec.ac.nz