(Given by Tom Diamond, May 26th, 2006)

My Father always said – married or buried – it takes 20 minutes!

The life and times of Perry T. Diamond

Born July 1, 1921 - not a coincidence - Canada Day. My Father often said

“We live in the greatest country in the world”

(SON)

My Father said that his father, Thomas Diamond, who I am named after and never knew, was the finest man he ever met! A generous man who looked after many and was greatly respected/revered in the community. His mother, Sarah, died when he was 10. Perry said

‘I grew up the day my mother died’

(BROTHER)

My Father had a great love for his family and would do anything for them. FAMILY ties were the most important thing in my father’s life. He was preceded in death by his sister Yvette, brother Nate and most significantly his twin brother Sam. For a great part of their lives the twins lived only a half block away from each other on Campbell Street  and were very close – very different, but very close. Any time he saw a set of twins he knew who was the youngest and who was the oldest. A female set of twins were always referred to as the Gold Dust twins – Goldie and Dusty. The younger siblings in the family Les and Dorothy, who are here today, can attest to just how much love was shared.

(BROTHER IN LAW)

He loved and embraced all the husbands and wives of his siblings – never having favorites and in fact to the best of my recollection – never saying a bad word about any person ever – except occasionally, maybe a politician. Perry was a liberal minded thinker and practiced what he preached. He felt families should get along, not quarrel. He always said to me when we spoke

“Have you spoken to your brother and sister?”

Always in his heart were Sarah Diamond, Charles Watson Monroe, Mim Diamond, Charlie Smith and Shirley Diamond.

(A SOLDIER)

My father enlisted in the RCAF (Lindsay and Andrew that’s the Royal Canadian Air Force) in 1941 and fought in North Africa during WW2 as part of the Alouette Squadron. He told us he ate Hard Tack and Bully Beef. He told us that my Babba Bess, Thomas Diamond’s 2^nd wife – sent him a treasured wurst – that he buried somewhere in Algiers and would dig up periodically to munch on. We think that somewhere over in Africa, there is still a Winnipeg - probably a Chicago Kosher salami buried somewhere near Tunis!

He took part, as an aerial photographer on bombers, in the invasion of Italy and Sicily. From there he went to England (Yorkshire).

 When we were growing up he rarely spoke of his war experience. But we knew it had a profound effect on him – whenever there was anything on television about the war – everything would stop and he would be totally focused on the program, on his memories. As he grew older we started to hear his stories from those years as he identified more and more with this Band of Brothers. I remember calling him on the 50^th anniversary of the Victory in Europe to thank him for what he did. But Perry wanted no thanks – he felt he had only done his duty.

In his retirement years when he began to receive a pension as a VETERN – he felt guilty for receiving this – he said he did what he had to do – nothing more! This was Perry Diamond. He could not believe his good fortune – being born in Canada. He knew just as easily, he could have been born in Europe. He said many times:

“Though no brains of my own was I born here”

(ARTIST)

Perry never called himself an artist – but he was. Following the war the government sent him to the School of Modern Photography in New York City to study photography. When he returned he set up what would become a legendary business in the old Times Building with his great war buddy Fred Billows – called FREDRIC PERRY. After that building burnt down he moved to the Odeon Theatre Building where he walked up those many stairs to his studio for over 20 years – now with a new Fredric – Fritz Alkier. Over the years Perry was not only an institution of the Jewish Community - but of all communities in Winnipeg – Perry Diamond was the chronicler of hundreds – thousands of simchas. Taking the wedding pictures (almost 5000 weddings we estimate), Bar Mitzvah Pictures and portraits of generations of families. He also took portraits of famous people – Paul Robeson, Marion Anderson, Trudeau, Chrétien – mayors, movie stars, boxers (he loved boxing and wrestling – which he referred to as “the best acting on television”) musicians and probably even you!

His sense of humour and ease with people was remarkable. It was “different” being the child of Perry Diamond. The summer and weekends were his busiest times – so when we were “off” he was working and working. Each of us in turn – first my Mother, then myself, Pam and Jay (even my cousin Harvey) assisted him at weddings. Witnessing him in action. Watching him do his job so masterfully. Hearing his arsenal of jokes time and time again

““Save your money spend it on photography and to hell with Doctors Bills”

“Your teeth cost your parents a fortune you might as well show them”

“If you don’t smile, I’ll put a mustache on all your pictures”

“The good lord looks after drunks, brides and photographers”

As he would pass out yarmulkes to guests arriving at weddings – he would say “square ones for the blockheads”

He served in the govererning body of the Professional Photographers of Manitoba for over 10 years.  He was their President in 1973. He was named a Life Member of both the PPOM and the Professional Photographers of Canada – and received many accolades and awards for his beautiful work. Most notably the Craftsman and prestigious MASTER of PHOTOGRAPHY citation which he received in 1985.

His work provides precious documentation of the generation in which he lived and will be around for many many years to come.

(HUSBAND)

Perry married my mother Betty just over 50 years ago. He married ‘late’ – he was 34 and often said jokingly he should have waited till he was 44. But he loved my Mother and she adored him. Together, they shared a love of family and my Father was as much a part of her family as he was of his own. He loved Ben and Bella Hashman – my Mother’s parents and my Mother’s sister Rose and her family, my Uncle Sammy and all the kids and cousins – so many of who tell me over and over – that Perry is their favourite Uncle. But I cannot speak too much of that – because Perry  - always shying away from the focus – would say ‘BS’ – not because they loved him – because just to speak of this sounds boastful and he would have none of that.

Well – he would boast about his children!!!

.

As my Mother began to decline my Father - a man who never knew how to boil water – became her caregiver. Looking after her with tender loving care. It was my Father who decided to move Betty to the Sharon Home – not because caring for her was a burden – but because he was so worried that if anything happened to him in the apartment  - ‘Mother’, as he lovingly called her, who was increasingly succumbing to her dementia would be lost, terrified. Perry could not understand what was happening to her and it truly broke his heart to “loose her”. I think he turned the corner at this time. He could not understand how this could happen to her, to any of the people art the Sharon Home who had dementia or Alzheimers. It made him question his faith. He told me he asked Rabbai Rose - he said this in Yiddish

“Is there a G-d” and Rabbai Rose replied “I’ll tell you when I meet Him”.

I know Perry truly respected you, Rabbai, for that response!

Perry had great respect for the caretakers who look after my Mother and others like her there and in turn, they found a special fondness for him as everyone did.

My Dad – who was prone to weeping anyway (I remember being taken to the airport by him when I would leave home and the tears would literally fly from his eyes uncontrollably) It was unbearingly painful for him to sit at the table in Evergreen Place and look at my Mother’s empty chair. He visited her for hours every day – it became his mission. His greatest concern was that Mom was taken care of! And he felt that she was with respect at the Sharon Home. My Father saw people – recognized them. He took no one for granted. I feel that caretakers at the Sharon Home appreciated this and had a special fondness for Perry. Because of it, when he himself was moved to the Sharon Home, only a few months ago – they RECOGNIZED him – respectfully for the Man he was!

(BEING HIS  SON)

As Perry said of his Father – Pam and Jay and I can say that he was the greatest man we ever met instilling in us values by example. We even forgave him for hardly ever getting our names right – I would be Jay or Sam or Les – Pam would be Dorothy or Bess or Betty . . .

I remember one time, before I moved away, I would have an appointment downtown, walk the stairs of the Odeon and wait till 5:30 to take the drive home with him– most often with someone else that needed a ride – Perry was always driving people places! A man approached him on the street and asked for money - instead of giving him money – he took him into a restaurant and told him to order what he wanted – my Father paid for the meal and we went home. I asked him why he did that and he said ‘I didn’t want to give him money because he would probably buy liquor”.

Another time, someone else had asked him for money on the street – he gave, and came home with these “curly” candles – my brother and sister realized he had donated money to the Hare Krishna’s!

Perry was a charitable man – giving proportionally great sums of money to charity – the state of Israel being hugely important to him. And all local Jewish charities.

He also hated waste and wastefulness.  I remember him always picking up litter on the street – always turning lights out before he left a room – before anyone else did that!

I must also tell you he loved his Sunday morning HOT Cereal. Phoning home for the three of us was a Sunday morning ritual and he would often answer the phone with

“IT’S RED RIVER TIME”

He even learned how to make it himself !!!

He took great pride in our accomplishments large and small.  Pam and I being 2 years apart were well established in our family when Jay came along – 9 years our junior.

My Father – never would favour one over the other – but I truly feel that Jay was like Joseph to my elderly Father’s heart. I am blessed to have great siblings – we are close – it doesn’t mean we always agree – but in the Perry tradition – we have never stopped talking to each other and the 3 of us have truly been united in the care of him and our Mother.

(FRIEND)

Perry was a man who had great and lasting friendships in his life. His War buddies – his Photography Buddies – most notably Ron Ayers (who Perry claims taught him to drink Scotch). Life long friends from childhood, and his closest friends: Max and Janey Jacobson, Aaron Bassman (“der Bingle” as my Dad called him) and so many more. Most of who are gone!

In the past years his Thursday lunch crowd  - something us 3 kids always joined him for when we were in town – a Bernsteins Corned Beef Sandwich with Bernie Lerner, Al Walder, Lester Glance (until he became too ill to attend) and Percy Devins (his brother Marty, who passed away, was one of  Perry’s greatest friends – Jay’s middle name is Martin).

(GRANDFATHER)

Perry’s last chapter is that of Grandfather to the remarkable Lindsay and Andrew – he loved them tremendously.

In the past year Dad had declined significantly. Following a vascular bypass he experienced a series of heart attacks – which robbed him of his middle aged strength (in his late 60’s and 70’s he would often say “this middle age is for the birds”). It also robbed him of his short term memory and made it increasingly impossible for him to live on his own. Perry was not happy being taken care of – as he was a caretaker himself.

I experienced one of those heart attacks at his side. He didn’t like to be sick or in pain – he was not a good patient. He sat me down years ago and made me promise that if he was rushed to the hospital ‘no extraordinary measures’. He told me for many years that he was not afraid to die and over the past few years I began to believe him. Another great lesson. During that heart attack episode he told me he was ready – but the good Lord was not yet ready for him

In his own way he began to tie up all his loose ends:

He asked my sister Pam to take him to the cemetery just a month ago to visit all his departed relatives and friends.

This past Monday, Victoria Day, Perry made what he himself called “his last trip” to Toronto accompanied by Jay to attend the Bar Mitzvah of his grandson Andrew. It was an extraordinary day. Dad was called to the Bimah and took his Aliyah. Many of those nearest and dearest to him hugged and kissed him – we all told him how much we loved him – my Sister said it was a miracle that he was there. He saw the future in his beautiful grandchildren; he saw us, his children, were all established and were going to be fine. He stayed in the home of my sister and spent Monday afternoon in the home of myself and my partner Alex, resting and chatting. We went for dinner with much of the close family that night and he had a big appetite, we couldn’t believe how much he ate! I said goodbye to him and he shed the tears of goodbye that we had come to love and expect. I told him I loved him as I always made sure I did at the end of our conversations and visits. The next morning he had breakfast with Pam and Jay and his Grandchildren. Jay and he flew back to Winnipeg at noon. They arrived here Tues afternoon – a beautiful day. Jay asked my Dad if he wanted to go back to the Sharon Home or go for a drive. Dad said he wanted to go for a drive. Jay drove him past some of the landmarks of his life – the River Heights homes where we children were born and grew up, past the Shaarey Tzedek Synagogue where he had been a member for so many years and taken so many photographs, past Evergreen Place where he lived with his beloved Betty.

There are no co-incidences.

He knew that his work was really done and without fanfare he left us, quietly on Tuesday night around 10 PM.

A beautiful and fitting end to a life lived with respect for all, great love, gentleness, kindness and generosity.

My Brother asked himself why, after that great weekend, he was given the gift of having these last days with my Dad – why he had been given that gift? And then he realized that the gift was not the day – the gift was the man.

And so, as we always said at the end of our visits and chats, we say now – but this time, for the last time

WE LOVE YOU DAD!

And thank you.

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