We are sorry we were unable to be with you for John's thanksgiving service. It was, we are confident, a time of lovely memories and thanksgiving for a man who lived his faith out in service. We do not remember John as a man of words, (though his time at the Press would disagree with this!), but as someone with a generous spirit We thank God for his life and pray you will all know the 'peace of the Lord' at this time of sorrow. Pat and Jim

Eulogy from the service of thanksgiving John Barker was born in Oakington just at the start of world war two, so he grew up with the post-war realities of austerity and ration books. But despite what must have been difficult times for any child, he loved reminiscing about his younger years. For example, his house was right on the boundary of the Oakington airfield, so he and his mates would blag chocolate bars from the US Air Force pilots and crew stationed there; or the often-told story of the time that a heavy bomber overran the runway on takeoff, and came to rest with its propellers spinning just inches from his bedroom window. As a youth, he would help out his father William in his profession as a thatcher, fetching the sheaves of reeds up the ladder ready to be bound into the roof with a large needle and string. On one occasion, he ended up being a little too close to the action, the needle went through both the straw roof and John’s thumb. Luckily, there was no lasting damage. After leaving school, John apprenticed at the Cambridge University Press which ultimately turned into his career. Starting from the ground up, all-told he was there over 40 years up to his retirement - having progressed to the position of the company’s production cost accountant. While at ‘The Press' he also caught the eye of a young secretary in the typing pool - he and Maureen went on to marry, and celebrated their 52nd wedding anniversary earlier this year. John and Maureen’s life together has been blessed first with two children - Iain and Helen - and now three grandchildren Alex, Jessica and Nuala. John loved anything mechanical with an engine - scooters, cars, aircraft... In his early 20s he would hang out at the local garage in Cottenham, learning car maintenance from the mechanics and going on to buy a ‘souped up’ Austin A35 car. It was this car, with its loud exhaust and racing engine, which John was driving when dating Maureen. With her father being a blacksmith, perhaps there was a common understanding of metal-craft... He also had an appreciation for music - he played trombone in the Newmarket Town brass band, and loved listening to classical music, opera, and attending West End musicals. Another anecdote: in the early 1970s John was helping his next door neighbor dig a car inspection pit into the floor of his garage, when they came across something large and metallic. They dug it out with pick axes, only to find it was an unexploded anti-tank mine. They transferred it using a wheel barrow to the local police sergeant, from where the Army bomb disposal were mobilised to remove it for controlled detonation. This was typical of John’s “can do” attitude to life. Did you know that John and Maureen also ran a campsite on behalf of the national caravan club for a summer season? I’m sure that would have been an ideal environment for John - not only did he get to chat with anyone and everyone who would stop to listen, but he also got to fix broken down cars and generally help out. That’s the kind of man he was - always ready to lend a hand whenever he could. By the mid 1990s, Helen and Iain had moving out to start lives of their own, so upon his retirement from ‘The Press’, John and Maureen relocated to Diss where they have enjoyed their later years together - using their caravan for extended visits to Helen’s family, and flying across to visit Iain in Boston, USA as often as possible, to watch their grand-children grow. Regardless of whether in America or UK, and in staunch defiance of his illness, John’s focus was always on family, with everyone coming together for a week at least once per year for a joint summer holiday together. Just last summer, when he visited the Fleet Air Arm museum during one such family vacation in Somerset, John casually announced that as a boy he had been in the air cadets. Then he recounted the following tale: “One day while the active pilots were giving a briefing to the air cadets, John mentioned that even though he was in the cadets he not yet actually flown. He was told to report to the airfield main gate in his cadet uniform the next day - and was taken up for a “test run” by one of the pilots in a two seater de Havilland Vampire trainer jet. Of course, when he came down he was green and sick as a dog - it was much more acrobatic than any normal flight, with the pilot doing barrel rolls and half loops - but he did also mention in passing they had gone all the way to France, including a sightseeing loop around the Eiffel Tower...” Again that was typical John - he led a quiet, modest life , but far from dull, and there was always a story to be told. Other than family, his printing career, and hobbies, of course John was always actively engaged with his church. He attended the Ebenezer Chapel in Cottenham with his parents and was raised as Baptist, but it wasn’t until Maureen’s own baptismal service that John heard the Lord’s call. He was baptised into the Cherry Hinton Baptist Church shortly afterwards. While there, John was captain of the local Boy’s Brigade (with Maureen similarly being captain of the Girl’s Brigade) and he then continued as a Boy’s Brigade officer while attending at Arbury Road Baptist Church in Cambridge for many years. He and Maureen latterly worshiped at the Diss Baptist Church, followed by their current Church, Stoke Ash Baptist. “Sure and Steadfast” is the anchor motto of the Boy’s Brigade, and John epitomized that sentiment throughout his life. I am sure that John considered his proudest achievement to be the wonderful family that he and Maureen have raised, and I’m glad to see so many of his family and lifelong friends were able to join us today, for this celebration of his life.

I am so sorry to learn that John has passed. He will be very dearly missed. I hope a passage at John 5:28, 29 brings comfort to all who are grieving his passing. May the promise of seeing our loved ones like John again sustain you through the grief.