Stonemason Barry Wakley and the controversial vicar of Freckelton, Lancs, (The man who recently banned "Grandad" on cemetery tombstones),would not get on.
Barry Wakley's roots in masonry go back 500 years. His family helped build St. Paul's Cathedral and 56-year-old Barry is continuing the tradition in Australia creating huge cemetery chapels for Italians, etching Rolls Royces and even images of loved houses on tombstones.
He would seriously balk at being told by a clergyman that "Dad" or "Tom" were out of order. He is aghast that an Anglican church court has backed The Rev. Stephen Brian in his ban of gravestone familiarity, right down to blue-pencilling "Tom", saying it was unsuitable for Thomas.
'I believe people must have the right to put whatever they wish on their loved-ones' headstones, providing there are no profanities.
'I have had to etch cars, drawings of houses and nicknames on to gravestones. I did an Acropolis for a Greek gentleman.'
There is probably no finer expert with the chisel than Barry. He did his apprenticeship in London repairing the bomb-smashed altar in St. Paul's Cathedral. 'Part of the roof had come down on it. My family and two other families had actually built St. Paul's under Christopher Wren. I discovered in the Dean and Chapter office records while I was there that eight Wakleys had worked on the site for five guineas a year.
'We remade the huge altar in white marble with Gothic sides, tracery and window panels worked in. All the inserts were gilded.'
When Barry's job at St. Paul's was finished, he lumped his bag of tools across to Westminster Abbey to repair the monuments inside. After hundreds of years they were showing a bit of wear and tear, as well as pitting from tourist vandals picking at them.
'I did the new tomb for Sir Francis Chichester, who was in there, under the floor with Capt. James Cook and Sir Francis Drake, all of whom had circumnavigated the world under sail.'
Barry then got the call to Kensington Palace. Princess Michael of Kent and the Gloucesters needed work done on their apartments. 'But the nicest job was for dear old Princess Alice, who was then 92. I re-did her bathroom, creating a new bath and vanity units in yellow Sienna marble. One day she sat on the edge of the bath and said to me: "Mason, what is your name?"
'When I told her it was Wakley, she went and got out these photo albums. She showed me snaps of her relatives - the Kaiser and the Tsar of Russia - and said: "Here is one of your grandfather with Teddy," (the Prince of Wales).
'And she went on: "Teddy said to your Grandfather, 'Do you take a drink, Wally?' And off they went to the pub where they drank beer. Teddy turned up his collar so nobody recognised him."'
Barry has "SCULPTOR" in bold letters on his notepaper above "Monumental Masons - Memorials of Distinction." He believes people should know he is "one up" from a mason, even though he operates out of a small town (pop.4,000) in Victoria, a long way from the heady memories of abbeys and palaces - and etching headstones for the Duke of Bedford's deceased animals.
'All his hunting dogs were buried in his pet cemetery and I did headstones with their dates of birth, death and their names.' He would have been upset to be told he could not chisel :"Here lies dear Fido."
He worked on London mansions for King Hussein of Jordan and other rich Arabs. His biggest job : 'For a Jewish family in Southend 30 years ago. I put up a vault that was to take 30 bodies. The cost was 45,000 pounds which is a lot of money these days.'
At the time he was learning the trade there were 48 members of the family in masonry. He later introduced three of his sons to the skills that had been handed down by his father and they still work as masons in Britain.
White-bearded Barry and his wife, Rose, who does the gilding, migrated in 1980 and now live and work from the town of Korumburra, from where they attend to tombstones in 55 surrounding cemeteries. 'We get 20 percent of our work from Italians who often ask for large chapels to be built for their dead. I finished one last week and it cost the family $10,000. If I'd done it in Europe it would have been 20,000 pounds, but the competition is fairly fierce here.'
When a bereaved family talk to Barry after the death he is happy to gently advise them on what should go on the tombstone. Rose speaks four languages, which is a help with the migrant community.
Recently he was asked by Korumburra Shire Council to sculpt the statue of a miner in stone now standing in front of the shire offices. When his day’s work is over, Barry and Rose go back to their small property where they "farm" a few cattle and dig granite - enough to keep Barry chipping for the rest of his life.
Barry gets out his own photograph album. And here's a picture of his grandfather, Wally, and the Duke of Windsor laying the foundation stone of St. James Palace in the 1920s. 'I've got to tell you,' he confides. 'When Teddy and my grandad went out drinking beer together, grandpa said they got very drunk...'
