By KATH GANNAWAY
JIM Crow arrived in Healesville two days before Christmas, 1959, and joined the ranks of “the local coppers” as a senior constable.
For the next 56 years, Healesville was home, family, work and community – home base for a fulfilling, funny and fruitful life.
Jim died, aged 87 on 21 November and was farewelled with a CFA honour guard at Le Pine, Lilydale, on Friday, 27 November.
The final salute followed a celebration of his life that honoured him as a man who lived for his family and his community, was respected and loved by many and made every minute count.
He was the third child of William and Elizabeth Crow’s nine children and grew up in Hastings.
He joined the police force in 1955 as part of the recruitment for the 1956 Melbourne Olympic Games and was recruited again when Jan Kiteley synchronised her trips to the local post office to coincide with Jim’s police mail duties.
They were married on 27 March, 1965, at the Presbyterian Church in Healesville and celebrated at the local RSL.
Bryce, who sadly died last year, was born in 1968, and Ashley, four years later.
After Bryce arrived Jim and Jan bought the Cosy Corner Milk Bar and it was not at all unusual for Jim to be serving customers either side of his police shifts. He loved the interaction with customers, and they loved it too.
After leaving the police force he started a driving school where he taught generations of Healesville teenagers. He also drove buses for McKenzies.
His volunteer work started as soon as he hit town. Jim had been a member of the Crib Point Fire Brigade as a young man and joined Healesville brigade where he served as Captain from 1984 to 1987 and was made a Life Member.
He was also an active member of the Masonic Lodge and the Lions Club of Healesville.
Heart-felt and humourous tributes were delivered by representatives of each of those organisations.
Ashley spoke on behalf of the family. He said everyone had a story to tell about his dad.
He said the conversations would start with “Are you Jim Crow’s son?” and go on from there.
“Your Dad was a good copper”, or “Jim taught me to drive”, or “Jim told me this joke once”, or “Don’t his legs ever get cold”, “I remember when that car was new” or “How’s your dad’s bloody cockatoo going?”
Both the car, a HQ Holden he bought new in 1974, and Popeye the cockatoo he hand-reared from a chick, were synonymous with Jim.
Ashley said the common thread to all the stories was that they always ended with how much people admired and respected Jim, and what a good man he was.
“That made Bryce and I very proud,” he said.
Jim and Bryce were best of mates and Jim was always there to help out with the businesses – in the early days the courier service and later with the stockfeeds business.
Ashley shared stories of holidays at Bonnie Doon, towing the caravan behind the HQ, boating and socialising. Jim and Jan loved to socialise and recently celebrated their 50th wedding anniversary.
It was at Bonnie Doon that Jim acquired ‘Popeye’ and they were constant companions.
Jim was a regular and welcome guest at the Army School of Health, where he found a receptive audience for his latest yarns, and gathered a few new ones as well.
Ashley said his father had been a strong role model who always set a good example, in particular with his sense of community and attitude to helping other people.
He said his often shared motto “Treat others the way you would want to be treated and you won’t go far wrong”, was something that he lived by and would be his legacy.
Tributes from his grandchildren, Mitchell, Georgia, Nathan and Jessica gave a personal insight into a proud and wonderful ‘Pop’.
Passing on values such as a firm handshake, a strong work ethic, the importance of having fun and helping others and of making time to make memories were among the many beautiful memories they shared.
Mitchell said his one big memory was being able to have his Pop for a driving instructor – something he didn’t get to do with his dad, Bryce.
“He was a great man to everyone and he will be sadly missed by all,” Georgia said.
There was a collective nod.
