| Friend
of Ted Kennedy and a loved member of St. Vincent’s,
Redfern. There can surely be not doubt about it. Bruce
Carroll is now with God.
Born in 1953, (by
chance in Leichhardt, Sydney) as the eldest of ten
children of the late Bruce and Joan Carroll, Bruce
was a man of the Bundjalung people and one of a great
line of the Roberts family of the Lismore-Grafton
area. His sister, Christine, confirms that their parents
were earnest people; their father grew a vegetable
garden, a trade learnt from Italian migrants in the
Riverina, and he was a very strict disciplinarian;
their mother always had a cleaning job for as long
as she was physically able.
Bruce was a very
intelligent person who loved to sit ‘n’ read “The
Sydney Morning Herald,” immediately interested to
discuss current issues and world affairs. He had been
to a Mission school and was so proud of the fact that
he attended all classes, never missing a day’s school
in his life. He really enjoyed learning. His brother,
John, also told us very recently that
Bruce was a lively, athletic youngster who, for instance,
could lie on his back ‘pedalling his legs’ as John
“spun” on them while turning somersaults.
During his early life,
Bruce was placed in 13 different institutions, which,
of course, left an indelible mark on his personal
life.
There were too many
interruptions in his education; as a child, there
were also moves from black to white “Care”. Being
an active Aboriginal boy in the 50’s, Bruce had the
great misfortune of being ‘selected’ for boxing, travelling
around annual country Shows. This destructive ‘sport’
no doubt contributed to Bruce’s brokenness, illness
and wretched later life.
Some of the results
of his early experiences were that he seemed to move
in both Black and White worlds, but found it hard
to feel accepted or comfortable in either, so that
he became something of a hermit, a loner on the fringe
of the fringes, carrying all the weight and oppressive
effects of colonialism daily. He ‘walked’ a great
restlessness, never able to stay anywhere for long,
or, if he agreed to stay overnight, we woke in the
morning to find him already up and gone.
It was wonderfull
that he found his way to Ted’s Redfern presbytery,
where he lived for a long time, and, later as he came
to know Frank better, lived with him in Hordern St,
Newtown. It was there that, when Frank was in NZ he
looked after the ‘Twelve Tribes of Tamba’ in the form
of Tamba’s twelve new pups – for which we were very
grateful.
He was always willing
to work, at times getting jobs but never ongoing or
sustainable. He would take odd jobs and was always
willing to lend a hand e.g. helping to load necessities
for East Timor, or working part-time at the local
fish’n chip shop. Like many in institutional care,
he always wanted to please and loved to be in a position
where he was told exactly what to do (even in the
army) where he could fill all requirements. Life was
so much simpler then.
Slowed up by illness
and its related medication, Bruce found it hard to
manage the conventions of everyday living - an enormous
electricity bill in winter by leaving the oven door
open all night for warmth! He would always listen
carefully to the plentiful advice he sought, but needed
a well-stepped plan. By keeping to Doctors’ advice
over the years he became more coherent, at ease within
himself, with his sense of humour more apparent. He
even left off talking about a favourite subject, UFO’s!
A mark of his true sanity was his genuine wonder at
the way whitefellas would get wound up about all kinds
of ultimately unimportant matters.
His personal qualities
were rich and many: an utter simplicity, acceptance
without expectations, gentleness, a lack of guile,
generosity (to a fault) with a soft spot for young
teenagers and a difficulty to refuse those seeking
shelter or companionship. He did not hold grudges
or speak ill of anyone. He would take trips away to
see his mother and family, and his pride and concern
was always for his three children that they would
be brought up well. Not long before Christmas, he
shared with Marnie Kennedy that he felt happy with
developments in his spiritual quest for God.
We became part of
his ‘beat’, as he walked from Birchgrove to Redfern
and back via Annandale. He never expected much or
outstayed his welcome: originally oblivious of clock-time
he would drop in at all hours, but gradually he arrived
at more regular meal times, always appreciative and
thankful. “See ya later, Bub”, he would say to Clare,
as he left with a kiss, and we would really miss him
if we didn’t see him for some time.
We miss him all the
more now that he has left us as we wait for those
extra long-‘n-loud doorbell rings. We feel sure that
he has landed a place where all the best hearts are,
and we hope to be in touch one day again – for we
learnt so much from Bruce in the Emmaus moments of
our cuppas.
Frank &
Clare (Vavasour)
|
Living
the Eucharist
