I used to run the bookshop down at Bondi Beach and would get my daily injection of tea and coffee from the Gelato Bar around the corner. Iris and David were there with some regularity and before long we fell into conversations which always lifted my spirits. I'm sure that had a lot lo do with that delightful twinkle in David's eye and Iris' warm smile - what a combination! We would chat about this and that, try a few words in Yiddish, exchange some jokes, and generally enjoy the interchange. I was quite sad when I heard they were going to Melbourne. However this meant too that I was spared the pain of seeing his decline which must have been so very hard for everyone. What a fine man. I don't think I can ever forget that twinkle. Vale David Swain And my very best wishes to Iris. Rita
I just wanted to express my condolences to your family and pay my respects to David. He was my first university lecturer and indeed the creator of the Professional Writing Degree when I was enrolled at the University of Canberra (then the CCAE). I remember him fondly as a quiet, kind, centred and dignified man who had an absolute love for teaching and a passion for writing and cartooning. There are students in his classes who have gone on to great writing careers and I am sure they would agree that he was instrumental in making that happen. Rest in peace, David, and a big thank you.
Dad patiently, painstakingly, caringly taught me to ride a bike. He held onto the back of the seat to steady me as I pedalled. Repeatedly, till I got it! He also taught me to skip with a rope, when I felt inadequate as all the other little girls could do it....and to walk on stilts. He made Jen and I some chunky, clunky stilts out of wood. We could stomp around the back yard and feel tall.
Memories of the Swain family gatherings - always lively and loving and deeply respectful of each others uniqueness. I am very grateful to have known David for he was indeed a unique man and a great role model for his lucky daughters.
A good man with a special soul. Always eventful. Always spirited. Never dull. Pen and paper in hand. Ready to inspire. A reflector of life. Pure light. We will miss you Mr Swain. Bom biddy bom bom bom....
I have many millions of marvellous memories of this wonderful man. Here's one. In the week leading up to Dad's death, we had some lovely conversations over the phone between Melbourne and Sydney. We connected strongly, even through the haze of Dad's dementia, immobility and morphine dosages. Two days before he died, we found ourselves inventing a little story about a speckled hen called Belinda. This hen was living on the top floor apartment of Mrs Jenkinson. Belinda wanted to fly, but was scared of heights. She acquired a pink parachute to give her a soft landing.
A recent memory: In the week before Dad died, he and I had several sweet conversations over the phone between Sydney and Melbourne. This in itself was remarkable, as he was bedridden, sometimes in pain; and filled with morphine and dementia. Two days before he died, we found ourselves making up a little story on the phone. It was about a speckled hen called Belinda. Belinda lived in the top floor apartment of a lady called Mrs Jenkinson. Belinda wanted to fly, but was afraid of bumping on the ground, so she had a pink parachute attached to her back for safe landing.
Memories of many visits with David & Iris, with late Solly, in the Bondi unit;- delighted with David's wit wisdom & intelligence. Thank you for the good times. Love from Valerie