David's Eulogy

This is not sorrow: this is work. For today we build a memorial in words and thoughts for our friend and brother Charles Wilfred Alexander Russell – Alec as he was almost universally known – who left us at his much loved Jimbour on 19 December last.

Alec’s great love – reflected in the final page of his Order of Service – was flight.

So it is appropriate that this service, like the funeral service for his father Charles, is held here in St John’s Church in Dalby. For one of the symbols of St John, reflected in one of the windows Alec Anna Ian and I contributed to this Church in his grandparents’ and parents’ memory, is the Eagle. It is the King of birds: the only bird which can fly directly into the full light of the sun, and which flies higher than all others.

This church, which played so central a part in Alec's life, was named for St John. Alec heard the word of God proclaimed from this lectern on countless occasions as part of the parish community. As it is in this his final Service.

Whilst each of the four windows was dedicated to a particular family member for his or her individual characteristics, it is remarkable how each of them reflects also an aspect of Alec’s life and character.

The first, dedicated to Alec’s grandfather, reminds us of the parable of the talents. This parable tells us not only the value of clear judgment and strategic insight, but also that the true measure of a man is not the gifts he is given, but also the persistence displayed in developing those gifts, and the integrity of purpose applied in doing so.

Not applicable to Alec’s grandfather but very much so to Alec was the truth that perhaps the greatest of all the talents is to start from unpromising beginnings and despite them achieve substantially. Those who knew Alec when the photograph at the front of the Order of Service was taken, and later when he wrote about his dreams in the paper reproduced on the last page, might well have been forgiven for thinking his aspirations were unlikely to be met. That they were speaks eloquently of the courage and persistence Alec applied to this task – a task which resulted in 8131 registered flying hours as pilot in command of powered flight and over 3,000 gliding flights.

The second, dedicated to Alec’s grandmother, references the story of Ruth. Ruth’s dedication to her family at great personal expense was reflected in Alec’s grandmother’s move to Dalby, her assistance to her husband in the restoration of Jimbour, and her subsequent devotion to her daughter Joan lasting until her death.

Upon our father’s death in 1977, it was Alec who remained with our mother at Jimbour, providing solace and care until, 20 years later, she was compelled to leave for health reasons. But, like Ruth, Alec contributed to the great work of the restoration of Jimbour both then and after under the watchful eye, and valued friendship, of master craftsman Gino Sandrin. Jimbour today is testament to the lasting care and devotion Alec applied to that task.

The third, for Alec’s father, I have already mentioned in the context of St John’s association with flight. But St John’s other association, again highly relevant for his father but less so for Alec, was with the Word and, in that sense, communication.

One only needs to look at the photograph at the front of the Order of Service to see just how much love Alec transparently possessed, and sought to express. Where words were not available, gestures and other forms of sharing took their place. And despite the frustrations this must from time to time have caused, neither Anna, nor Ian, nor I ever heard him complain.

The fourth window, for Alec’s mother, recalls the third word from the Cross, as recounted in St John’s Gospel.

This statement is traditionally called "The Word of Relationship""; and in it Jesus entrusts Mary , his mother, into the care of" the disciple whom Jesus loved “ showing Jesus'; humanity and the depth of love he had for his mother and the disciple into whose care he entrusted her. More generally it draws attention to the importance of human relationships, caring and responsibility.

The size of today’s congregation makes a far better statement of the strength of Alec’s relationships than any words of mine could accomplish. Mentioning names in such a context inevitably carries with it the risk of omission, for which I apologise in advance, but the family remembers with particular gratitude: Alec’s colleagues in the self-proclaimed “Jimbour crew”; The members of the Darling Downs Soaring Club, who had planned shortly to present Alec with a trophy for his 3000 gliding flights and will now instead display it in their club house; and The members of his Christian fellowhip in this parish.

Of all the things which defined Alec, in many ways the most important to him was his love of flight. He kept his pilot’s log books from the very first entry to the last, 3 years ago, at Heathrow.

Gliding is totally different to powered flight which largely nowadays represents a way of getting from point A to point B. I have an enduring memory of my flight with Alec above McCaffrey’s Field. It was almost eerily silent and seemingly unhurried, creating a rare opportunity for reflection and a sense of liberation.

Let us then remember Alec, in his final journey beyond the clouds, in the words of John Magee’s High Flight: Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of earth, And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings; Sunward I've climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth Of sun-split clouds, --and done a hundred things You have not dreamed of --Wheeled and soared and swung High in the sunlit silence. Hov'ring there I've chased the shouting wind along, and flung My eager craft through footless halls of air... Up, up the long, delirious, burning blue

I've topped the wind-swept heights with easy grace Where never lark or even eagle flew -- And, while with silent lifting mind I've trod The high untrespassed sanctity of space, Put out my hand, and touched the face of God.