George Soukup, a beloved member of the Eugowra community, passed away on September 14 aged 84 years. A family funeral was held at St John the Baptist Catholic Church on Monday, September 20.
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We share his story and family recollections from the tributes shared on the day, beginning with the eulogy read by his son-in-law Maurice Trimmer.
"Grumpy", as he was affectionately known to his family, was born as Jiri Rudolf Soukup on December 2, 1936 in Czechoslovakia.
He was raised in a household with his parents and two younger sisters, and they lived a typical but complex life given the time period in Czechoslovakia.
George married the love of his life Renata on August 19, 60 years ago this year.
Grumpy spent all of his life, starting in Czechoslovakia, as an electrician. He continued his life trade as an electrician when they migrated to Australia.
In 1967 Grumpy and about 21 other friends and tradesman after two years had finally completed the construction of a block of flats that they could call their home.
By 1968 the Russians had started to occupy the area.
Grumpy and many others felt strongly against this. By 1969, he had such a strong conviction against the Russians they decided to leave everything they had.
Taking only what they could fit into a suitcase, Grumpy, Renata and Ruth left Czechoslovakia and fled to the Netherlands where they sought political asylum.
They were thankfully accepted to migrate to Australia, where the government was seeking out international qualified tradespeople.
After going through the paces of vaccinations and checks, they arrived in Australia via England in 1969.
Grumpy, Renata and Ruth arrived in Australia - in Sydney on May 24, 1969, with no ability to speak English.
The Sydney immigration department was in a tent, the one thing Grumpy recalled from this was seeing a Victa lawn mower for the first time. They were mowing the grass under the tent.
The family was to be bound for Victoria but they remained in NSW to make the best use of his abilities as an electrician.
The first immigration placement was an Army hut in Villawood, this had a dirt floor and families were separated by a sheet hung from the ceiling.
Grumpy was unemployed for a mere 10 days before he was snapped up by Honeywell.
This was his first job offer in Australia and he worked there his entire life until his retirement on April 30, 1992 - 23 years.
Over the years he worked his way up the chain within Honeywell where he supervised the construction of some top secret projects.
One of those had to do with a submarine, and when he was done he asked if he could leave.
To which he was told no, we are currently in the middle of the ocean and underwater!
Fast forward a few years to 1994, where they moved to a sleepy little town called Eugowra.
They intended to, and indeed have, spent the rest of their days on top of the hill in Cooper Street.
Not only was he my father in law, I considered him my father, my best friend, my mate and my buddy.
Just like a lot of you here today, whenever you needed him - he was there. We were always there for each other until the day he left this world.
From grandson Kyle Trimmer
To us, he was Grumpy. That's what we called him and he wore it, like a badge of honour.
For the past 60 years Grumpy lived every day of his life devotedly by my Nan's side. He lived for Nan and he lived for us: his daughter, his son in law and his two grandchildren.
He along with Nan would work tirelessly to make sure we were all comfortable and well fed. He was the hardest working man I've ever met.
My Grumpy was a very tough man - too tough for his own good, sometimes. But he was an extremely fair man.
If there was anything in this world that I feared as a kid it was getting in trouble from Grumpy. But I always knew that when I was in trouble I deserved it.
Even in his old age, until a few years ago, he would still go in to the forest and carry back big chunks of timber for the wood fire.
He'd be outside for hours chopping it all up. It was like the harder he worked the happier he was.
I was very lucky to be working by his side for some of those expeditions. He'd take us up to lookout rock, as many times as we liked, until we were old enough to go on our own.
He even made us a ladder so that we could climb up on to lookout rock when he wasn't there to lift us up.
His pursuit for knowledge was incredible. He wanted to know everything and anything.
How things worked, how they were made. He loved history, how everything came to be.
There'd always be a new book in his hands - about ancient history or war.
He loved doing his Take 5 and That's Life puzzles and he'd let us help him when we'd visit for school holidays. He loved learning new words and the history behind those words.
He knew that knowledge was power and he wanted to be the most powerful. To me, he was.
He had a way of telling stories about his life experiences that would captivate the most worldly men. You knew that sometimes there were probably a few embellishments but you were so captivated that you didn't even care.
As they say, "never let the truth get in the way of a good story" - Grumpy's stories were the best.
Grumpy had an armoured exterior but a heart of platinum. He'd always let me know that platinum was far more valuable than gold.
He loved his community. He would do anything in his power to help anyone in need and he never expected anything in return.
He didn't like accepting anything in return although he knew most of the people he helped would find a way to show their gratitude.
A funny but very fond memory that I have: about 20 years ago I was out in the forest behind the house riding my dad's dirt bike on a track that the local kids had made.
I got a little too cocky, went crooked over a jump, clipped a tree mid-air and down I went. I managed to compose myself and straighten the bike out enough to limp the bike home to Nan and Grumpy's.
Covered from head to toe in blood, cuts and grazes. I went inside the house and my Nan saw me and screamed for Grumpy.
He took one look at me and said "get outside and take your clothes off".
He came out shortly after with a bottle of dettol and a box of tissues and proceeded to empty the entire contents of the bottle over me and wipe all the wounds clean.
As much pain as I was in I didn't cry. He always told me, "real men don't cry".
But I caught him crying, once, on my wedding day. He was so proud.
These are, but a fraction of the memories of my Grumpy that I hold dear.
My Grumpy wasn't just the man, not just a myth, but a legend and he left his mark on everyone that he met.
From granddaughter-in-law Christine
The first time I met Grumpy back in 2004, boy did I meet a strong, stern man of steel ... or so I thought.
But everyone he met knows much different: the stories told are of generosity, compassion, honesty and kindness to every person he meets.
A funny story I remember he always reminded us of was the one time he had been chopping wood (which he did until recent times) and he wanted to 'have a relax in the bath'.
He said he sat down and "guess what I found?" A cat head!
One time we visited was over Christmas in 2012.
The drought had been about for a while already, and Grumpy proclaimed it hadn't rained in six months.
Kyle and I had set up the tent out the back and as he told it, "you never guessed it that time, it rained! So much the tent it flooded".
He would always laugh telling us how funny it was us getting flooded out. But also how putting a tent up caused the most and first rain in six months!
Grumpy always enjoyed a red wine or two: I know now he is free from pain, suffering, the cold and the heat. He is sitting high watching us share in the celebration of his life.
As he would say, 'oh don't worry, just let it go'. Senga Na Leqa Grumpy - no worries.