Appreciations
View(s):Johann ‘Tiny’ Reid
His good and gentle ways will live on
I first met Johann Reid on January 17, 1956 – the day we both started school at S. Thomas’ College Mount Lavinia.
After the new boys were ushered into our classroom, our teacher Mrs Jacob called us by our surnames and assigned us our seats. Why she randomly seated us next to each other I have no idea – so I found myself seated next to this little boy who I’d never met before.
We smiled shyly at each other – whereupon I stuck my hand out and said “Hello, I’m Wijesinha but my real name is Sanjiva” to which he replied “I am Johann Reid but my real name is Tiny”.
This struck me as odd, since he was no tinier than any of the other boys. In fact he was taller than most of them! Curious, I asked “Why do they call you Tiny when you are not at all tiny?” to which he replied (as if it was the most logical thing in the world) “Because I have four older brothers and I am the youngest.”
And that was how our friendship started – a friendship that extended for nearly 60 years and was only cut short by his untimely death last week.
Although profoundly saddened by his passing away, I realize this is a good time to reflect on his life and what he meant to me, his closest friend. I mourn his passing – but I am grateful for the fact that our paths in life converged and stayed together for so many years.
It is said that life is not about getting good cards, but playing a poor hand well. Tiny was dealt a few bad cards in his life, cards that I felt he did not deserve. His own belief however was that that nothing happened without a purpose, and that everything that happens to us, good or bad, is meant to teach us something. Over the last few months when I had the painful task of looking after him and watching him dealing heroically with an illness that we both knew was beyond cure, I kept asking myself “What is it that Tiny has been given the task of teaching us?”
Looking back at his life, the qualities that I feel were typical of Tiny were fourfold.
First and foremost, he was laid back. Being obsessional and overactive myself, often trying to complete yesterday what needs to be done tomorrow, I found Tiny to be the perfect opposite. If someone turned up to him agitated and told him, “Tiny, hurry up, hurry up – the sky is going to fall down today” he would look at him calmly and say, “Umh! What time?” Nothing seemed to fluster him – if he was confronted with a problem, he was confident that God would provide a solution in due time, and it was not his brief to worry. Long ago he had realized what many of us have not – that we cannot control people and events and the only thing we can truly control in this life are our actions. This easygoing quality also meant that I never ever saw him losing his temper.
Second was his loyalty. To his family, his friends, his school, his church group – Tiny Reid was the epitome of loyalty.
Perhaps it was due to the values his parents John and Pearl Reid instilled into their close-knit family of sons – Claude, Ronnie, Buddy, Barney and Tiny. Perhaps it was the ethos imbibed from his earliest days playing a team game like cricket. Tiny was a person who could be unfailingly depended upon to think of his team-mates (here, read family, friends, church group, work-colleagues) before himself.
The third quality I associate with Tiny was that he was loving – a loving husband and father. When his wife Katie was struck with a devastating illness – just like Tiny later would be, by a particularly rare and aggressive form of cancer – he devoted himself virtually single-handedly to caring for her, the person he treated as the most important human being in his life.
And his twin daughters – to Tiny, these were the very apples of his eyes. I remember them as babies, each of whom could be relied upon to wake up crying just as the other one was dropping off to sleep! Of course that was a very long time ago, and the fact that those two hungry insomniac babies have turned out to be such fine young ladies owes much to the loving nurture of Tiny and Katie.
Tiny Reid was inordinately proud of his two girls, as well as the boys they married and his beloved grandchildren. For him, Nivanka, Peisha, Jon, Michael – and of course the four ‘babies’ Thomas, Annaliese, Imogen and Asher – were the centre of his universe. A truly loving family man – this was Tiny.
The final quality I associate with Tiny is his use of language. I am not referring to his spelling, which sometimes left a bit to be desired – for example, for the past 60 years, he unfailingly spelled the word ‘Saturday’ as ‘Saterday’ despite the best efforts of his teachers, me and even his daughters to correct him!
When I mention Tiny’s language, all his school-friends and cricketing team-mates will recall with a chuckle exactly what I mean. Tiny Reid was someone who we never heard swearing. Despite associating with rough crowds of schoolboys and sportsmen who punctuated their conversations with four letter words, he was an island of propriety. The strongest phrase I have ever known him use in describing someone bad or evil was “dirty beggar”.
Tiny was a cricketer – and a pretty good one at that. But he never indulged in abusing his opponents (what is euphemistically called ‘sledging’ these days’) or even mouthing off when someone dropped a catch off his bowling or he was hit for a boundary.
After his beloved wife Katie died, he was devastated – but he picked himself up and decided to devote the rest of his years to help those less fortunate than himself. He studied and qualified as a counsellor – and whether it was at the Salvation Army or the school where he worked as Chaplain, he dedicated himself to helping others.
Tiny Reid was a cricketer and an athlete who had a reputation for playing a straight bat and running a good race.
He leaves those of us who knew him with memories of a good man and a Gentle Man – and in my own view, one of the finest gentlemen who graced God’s earth.
Dr. Sanjiva Wijesinha
Dr. Lucian Perera
A great friend and duty-bound surgeon with a human touch
Dr. Lucian Perera, surgeon, gentleman, singer, social worker, decorated volunteer Superintendent of Police took his last salute after a brief illness recently. A man with a soft heart, a Doctor who was non-commercialised, a duty-bound father of two beautiful daughters and a wonderful son, he breathed his last in the Colombo South Hospital – the very same hospital he had served for many years as the senior surgeon saving many lives.
I observed the family receiving messages of condolences and support from many whose lives he had touched. Our thoughts and prayers are with Dr. Lucian’s family.
Dr. Lucian will be remembered as an extremely helpful, clever and thoughtful doctor, able to seamlessly blend the medical knowledge he so passionately pursued with his patients in a layman’s language that was easy to understand. Dr. Lucian was the company panel Doctor when I was at SriLankan Airlines as their Manager HRD. I recall many employees commending his generosity, for committing his valuable time voluntarily during emergency operations on the parents of our employees who had no insurance – such a duty bound surgeon with a human touch is rare in this day and age.
I cannot forget how when my father was suffering from cancer – and being operated on by Dr. Maiya Gunasekera, (an operation that took over seven hours), we never knew that Dr. Lucian too was there with my Dad, and Dr. Maiya.
But to us, his friends, Lucian was much more than an outstanding surgeon. He will be remembered as a warm and caring friend, and as a dedicated mentor who always gave credit to his “people”. He will be remembered for his love of music – the songs he never failed to sing of late C.T. Fernando at special functions. I recall too, his love for travel, and good food and coffee, all best shared with the company of others. He had a gentle but sometimes very intellectual humour.
He will be remembered as a wonderful friend who gave freely of his time, advice and expertise. And he will be remembered for serving the medical profession with great distinction in many capacities.
Lucian Perera was a great example to all – an iconic surgeon, dutiful dad and wonderful friend.
Goodbye Dr. Lucian – you will be missed!
Ranjeewa Kulatunga