23rd March 1937
March 23, 2021
by duncan smith
On this day, 23rd March 1937, the Republicans won the Battle of Guadalajara, in the Spanish Civil War. Despite this they lost 2 years later to franco’s fascists and there followed decades of fascist rule until 1975. Also on this day my uncle Barry was born.
I think of him every day and the thought of never speaking with him or seeing him again hurts.
A few days ago I came across this sculpture by Albert Gyorgy called Melancholy:
It captures the hole, the emptiness, that is left in the living when a loved one dies.
I have many memories of being with Barry in post-Franco Spain primarily because my mother moved there with my youngest brother Jason in the early 80’s after my father, Barry’s only sibling, died in 1980. Another brother, Tim, also lived there for many years and Barry joined us a few times. It was a little strange as Barry’s brother Jeffrey never went to Spain as it was a fascist regime.
The first time we went I couldn’t book a flight to Alicante, near where my mother had moved to, so Barry, brother Mark and me flew to Madrid. It was a late flight so we stayed over for a night in Madrid planning to drive the following day. Owing to pretty severe hangovers we didn’t drive the following day but were just able to go to the Prado and view Picasso’s Guernica, his 1937 painting of the fascist bombing in April of that year:
I still remember the smell of the breath of our guide as he described how the bull looking left was Picasso showing his anti-fascist views.
Another time Barry and I flew together to Barcelona and we stayed in a hotel at the bottom of the Ramblas, this time we still stayed out late the first night but didn’t drink as much as on our Madrid trip. We were walking back in the early hours when just before reaching the hotel we were surrounded by a number of women, very quickly hands were feeling for valuables in various pockets. I fought them off and then went to Barry’s aid, he was transfixed in shock. Barry was quite a sight after they’d dispersed; his glasses askew, jacket half off, but fortunately nothing stolen.
So, if you drink, raise a glass of red to Barry today or however you care to remember him.
Keep on keeping on, love Duncan.
I think of him every day and the thought of never speaking with him or seeing him again hurts.
A few days ago I came across this sculpture by Albert Gyorgy called Melancholy:
It captures the hole, the emptiness, that is left in the living when a loved one dies.
I have many memories of being with Barry in post-Franco Spain primarily because my mother moved there with my youngest brother Jason in the early 80’s after my father, Barry’s only sibling, died in 1980. Another brother, Tim, also lived there for many years and Barry joined us a few times. It was a little strange as Barry’s brother Jeffrey never went to Spain as it was a fascist regime.
The first time we went I couldn’t book a flight to Alicante, near where my mother had moved to, so Barry, brother Mark and me flew to Madrid. It was a late flight so we stayed over for a night in Madrid planning to drive the following day. Owing to pretty severe hangovers we didn’t drive the following day but were just able to go to the Prado and view Picasso’s Guernica, his 1937 painting of the fascist bombing in April of that year:
I still remember the smell of the breath of our guide as he described how the bull looking left was Picasso showing his anti-fascist views.
Another time Barry and I flew together to Barcelona and we stayed in a hotel at the bottom of the Ramblas, this time we still stayed out late the first night but didn’t drink as much as on our Madrid trip. We were walking back in the early hours when just before reaching the hotel we were surrounded by a number of women, very quickly hands were feeling for valuables in various pockets. I fought them off and then went to Barry’s aid, he was transfixed in shock. Barry was quite a sight after they’d dispersed; his glasses askew, jacket half off, but fortunately nothing stolen.
So, if you drink, raise a glass of red to Barry today or however you care to remember him.
Keep on keeping on, love Duncan.