The Column with Canon Rev Dr Rod Garner Johnny Barnes had it right!

QUITE often I see the same man coming down Manchester Road each morning. He‘s a fairly big chap with a distinctive baseball cap on his head, a bag on his shoulder and the paper under his arm.

It’s a daily ritual for him and I wave as we pass and he waves back.

Just recently with warmer days he has taken to sitting on a chair on the pavement outside his residence.

He cuts quite a figure and I find myself waving on my drive home.

I suspect others do the same and for the same reason: a simple gesture of friendliness can bind people together, refresh drooping spirits and remind us of our shared humanity.

I like the fact that communication and happiness can come about in this way without any conscious planning or striving. And at a time when very little seems to be under our direct control there is every incentive to value the small things that restore a bit of balance in our lives.

I read recently of the death at 93 of Johnny Barnes, a flamboyant character and citizen of Bermuda, who for the past 30 years went to the same roundabout each day to wave and smile at anyone who passed and tell them how sweet life was.

He was a contented man, a former electrician and bus driver, married to Belvina who brought him joy.

As Bermuda’s unofficial ‘greeter’ he rose around 3am, walked two miles to his usual spot and would stay there for six hours before walking home again.

When it rained he was there with his brolly; more often than not his familiar straw hat kept off the sun.

Old age slowed him down but in his unusual post-retirement career his radiant smile communicated warmth and affection to strangers many, many thousands of times.

Not everyone understood him or his motives: some, lacking imagination or empathy, saw him as a nuisance or traffic hazard; on one occasion a passer-by came armed and threw a bucket of water over him.

But Mr Barnes was never deterred. He knew that his life had been blessed by God and always remembered the scolding he had received from his mother when as a child he failed to greet an old lady.

Bermuda came to depend on his presence and people worried when he was not at his post.

In 1998 a statue of him was erected near to his beloved roundabout.

Tourists were photographed with him and bought his postcards and once he waved to the Queen of England.

All of this came about serendipitously – there was never a game plan or the thought of fame or wealth – and this most happy man died in the firm belief that he was heading home.

The source of his happiness disappeared with him but he had left plenty of clues at the roundabout.

His statue of course but, more importantly, the vivid memories of the selfless one ( Jose Mourinho please take note), the charm and ease that had endeared him to so many and his overflowing sense of life as gift to which the only proper response was gratitude.

Thanks then to my Southport pavement buddy who, without knowing it, adds meaning to my day through the simple gesture of a wave; and to Mr Barnes, who, across two oceans in Bermuda, knew what his days were for and gladly gave the passing hours to others.