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Rowie Meers, Alex’s widow, wrote in November 2006:
Purton house is a family
run farm owned by my
parents Myf and Doug
Barker and run by me
(Rowie) and my husband
Alex Meers. In October
2005 Alex was taken in to
hospital where he was
diagnosed with acute
myeloid leukaemia. After
undergoing initial
treatment he suffered a
stroke and we were told
by the doctors that he had
a few hours to live. This
was an incredibly worrying
and traumatic time for us
all. Amazingly Alex actually
recovered from this
defying doctors initial very
pessimistic prognosis but It
was touch and go for
about 3 months as he was
fighting leukaemia,
pneumonia and a stroke
which rendered him
paralysed down his right
side and unconscious off
and on for about a week.
Even though he was
incredibly weak and lost
over 3 stone in weight
Alex regained the use of
his right side and got his
speech back and started to
walk with the aid of sticks.
Infact he made such good
progress that I was able to
bring the seed order
catologues into hospital for
him to order the seed for
this years planting! He said
it was the first time he
actually managed to get it
done without being
constantly interrupted by
screaming kids or escaping
animals. The nurses were a
welcome interruption I
gather! We all had such
optimistic hopes for Alex
and the amazing way he
recovered he was
discharged in February in
remission but only spent a
few days at home before he
suffered a seizure and was
rushed back into hospital
where they found the
leukaemia had spread to the
brain. Alex spent a further 3
months inhospital
undergoing more treatment
but despite our efforts to
help him in every way we
could bringing him in 3
meals a day searching the
internet for possible
alternative treatments (he
was only given 10% chance of
survival with conventional
treatment) he came home on
26th May to be with his
family and died on 29th May
in his own bed with us all by
his side.
Alex’s funeral was a fitting
tribute to him. We took him
to the church in a hand
woven willow coffin on a
trailer strewn with ivy pulled
by his favourite tractor. It
was truly a celebration of his
life and an acknowledgement
of the warm, gentle, kind
hearted, strong and well
loved person that he was.
Over 500 people attended his
funeral including 10 nurses
from his ward. He now lays
buried in the grounds of
Purton House where the
children and I can visit when
ever we want.
Matthew, Alex's brother, recently wrote:
Alex never tried to impress people, he was very comfortable in himself yet I have never been more impressed by another human being.
Katharina, who worked for Alex and Rowie for 6 years, wrote:
I worked for Rowie and Alex from July 1999 until December 2005. As I did the Wednesday-Thursday veg packing shift I hardly ever worked with
Alex but because of the fact that I lived in Bristol and stayed over night in the Hayloft the Wednesday nights were started (with wonderful dinner and
drinks) and I got to know Rowie and Alex and the kids in a very personal way and became friends.
So a few snapshots over the years:
When I first met Alex and Rowie in July 1999 I thought what a great couple, seems a lovely man as well but I will never be able to understand a word
he says! A few hundred Wednesday nights and Thursdays followed and I got there—still with the occasional difficulty. I always admired Alex’s passion
for his work, the farm, the organic veggies, happy cows and chickens. Someone so dedicated to his work and still so interested in other people and
jobs that must have seemed strange to him (like sitting in an office at a computer all day).
He never forgot to offer drinks, sour worms or other delicacies when it got late on the Wednesday nights and we were still packing away in the old
shed. Alex created the nickname ‘fruitbat’ which stayed with me until Lidia took over the fruit room sometime last year. She was the ‘junior fruit bat
then.
Thursday mornings Alex made a round with cups of teas for all the veggie-girls who stay overnight at the Hayloft where Rowie and Alex live. I used
to be in the kids bedroom. Alex bought the steaming cup of tea, never forgot a cheerful ‘good morning Katharina’ and some information about sheep
in the field or nasty rain or chickens on the loose.
Alex loved to share his ideas and plans about the farm, new plants, new projects like the new shed and future developments of the Hayloft especially
details about the nicest fireplace or bathtub one could possibly get.
Such a modest man. Alex sitting in his ‘office’ in the living room, three kids watching T.V. or fighting or both. Rowie and 1-3 veggie ladies drinking and
joking and being silly and Alex trying to write his farm diary.
He was always genuinely interested in my travel stories and never seemed envious or anything even though I’m sure he would have fancied some
more travelling himself.
When I saw him to say goodbye in January 2006 before moving back to Munich he was so thin and fragile in his hospital bed but he still kept asking
me about my plans for the future, about the trip back and about work and getting a flat. Rowie brought in some wonderful homemade food and we
all chatted and laughed together up until a very sad and tearful goodbye because I had to go. That was was the last time I saw Alex. He still seems to live
somehow because he had such a strong presences as a person that nobody can believe he is gone.
John Papworth wrote in July 2006
THIS WAS A MAN
St Mary's was packed, standing room only for late arrivals, as a flower-bedecked basket-woven coffin containing the mortal remains of Alex Meers was carried in for his funeral.
He was a gentle man, a friendly man and an all round decent man. His life was dedicated to his family, his organic farm and his friends. There is a picture of him driving a tractor on a Purton House Open Day pulling a truck full of happy, smiling children. The picture somehow summed up his life; dedication to the practical ideal of producing decent food and creating happiness and goodwill just by being his ordinary, unassuming decent self. Struck down in his prime by a cruelly disabling illness. I recall vividly the last time I met him. Released for a spell from hospital he was taking a short walk across his farmyard with the support of two friends. He smiled when he saw me, but it was an ironic self-deprecating smile, as though to say, "Sorry you see me like this! Can't see why everyone is making such a fuss just about me". That was another of his pronounced characteristics, modesty and a sense that even if life did its worst to him there was nothig really to make a fuss about. But his family and friends did make a fuss in different ways to help him overcome what suddenly threatened a man who made friends as easily as the sun warms the earth, a man who surely never ever made a foe. But all the love, care, attention and concern of so many proved to be of no avail, even though he bore up with undiminished courage and intrepidity of spirit to the end. Heaven has doubtless gained a friend, we of our village community knew we had lost a friend of peerless quality. No wonder his funeral packed the church to its doors:
"His life was gentle, and the elements
So mix'd in him that nature might stand up
And say to all the world, This was a man".
Purton and District Age Concern wrote in July 2006:
What an asset he was to us - always so helpful - nothing was too much trouble. He was the type of person you felt you could ask for anything and you would get a positive response. . . . I could go on and on about the kindness that Alex has shown to Age concern, along with Rowie and the rest of the family. . . . Alex fought such a hard and brave battle to try and overcome his illness but it was not to be and he was lovingly cared for by Rowie and family and friends, and the Dove ward at GWH. I suspect he was a model patient, always cheerful, bright and positive. It is hard to understand why these things happen. My only conclusion is that they need good people up there the same as we do down here.
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