The first time I saw Eve and Tony was at a COD (Congress of Democrats) meeting in someone’s Hillbrow flat in Johannesburg. Eve was pregnant with the twins, and at the end of the meeting Tony had to haul her out of the chair she was sitting in. It was the first time that I heard that throaty, infectious laugh.
I was dead impressed by them and totally fascinated, they seemed so incredibly grown up and sophisticated. I was about 18 at the time and they were only a few years older than me. Definitely role models.
We all went into exile in the few years after that and lost touch for many years although I would hear about them through mutual friends from time to time.
When the Hall’s came to England in the ‘70’s we met up again. The gap of years was insignificant, we shared so much, our past, our politics, our exile our travels and children. One day we went for a picnic on the downs outside Brighton. There were a bunch of adults and many children, Eve and I walked together and talked the whole way – we always had a lot to say to each other. I think we thought alike in many ways.
When Eve was studying in Reading and later when they were off on their travels again we saw little of each other, but when we did meet up from time to time in strange places we always took up again where we left off, Eve and I chatting and giggling, Tony somewhat more serious. There was always so much to talk about from children and mundane matters – gossip – to politics and putting the world straight.
Wherever they were their house seemed like home – and it was - they were always so easy to be with to fit in with. Time with them was so relaxing.
Once in Harare as I was finishing a film, Eve moved into the hotel where I was staying at the start of a consultancy there. It was their wedding anniversary and I remember us walking down the street laughing together.. I stayed with them in Harare, in Yeoville and in Addis or we met up in places like Maputo and London.
I have a picture in my head of us all – Eve, Tony, Pam and Marcelino, me and Ivan – walking along the marginal in Maputo chatting away like the old friends we were.
When they were working in Ethiopia and Ivan was shooting a film there I went out to visit and the Hall’s introduced us to many of their amazing international friends. Best of all, Tony, who knew Ethiopia so well, accompanied Pam dos Santos and myself on a trip to some historic places around the country. One afternoon we had hiked up a mountain in the Gondar region and as we sat at the top looking out at these weird shaped mountains with villages on their flat tops, Tony told us a story about a previous time in the area when he worked for Oxfam during the famine. He had been sitting on just such a mountain and had said ‘wouldn’t it be great if we could have a cup of coffee.’ Whereupon, one of the Ethiopians with him set off down the mountain and up the next one and then back again, to get some fresh coffee from the villagers there.
Much later on I visited them in their lovely place in Mpumalanga and they came to me in Cape Town. Hard to put into a few words a life long friendship with so many gaps but with so much richness and so very much in common, books, music, art and so much else.
I valued Tony’s experience as a journalist and editor and particularly valued their international take on things. Coming back to South Africa seemed so parochial to all of us, after years of travel and they were able to bring that wider perspective to our conversations that we missed so much. Our hopes were so high.
One of the things that Eve and I shared was they way we loved our children (boys all) and later our grandchildren and valued them above all and yet needed to pursue our own lives and careers which separated us from them. We really didn’t know each other’s children, I am not even sure they ever met mine, and although I came to know Andy and Chris a bit later on, I think I only met Phil once. That made no difference, we knew all about each other’s children, their wives and their own children. Sharing grandmother stories was one of out pleasures.
Eve was a great admirer of my mother, Hilda Bernstein and both Eve and Tony were very good friends of my parents. They too were able to keep alive this incredible friendship over years and countries. Towards the end of her life when my mother tended to annoy me, Eve could see nothing wrong with her and thought she was incredible. At the same time, Eve’s very elderly mother was spending a lot of time with them and Eve found that annoying at times – but I found Lisa a delight. We could stand each others elderly parent far easier than we could be with our own.
A few anecdotes: I always read the horoscope in the newspaper. Eve told me that when she was working on the paper in Kenya she was in charge of the women’s page. On a Monday she would write up the horoscopes for that week. On a Saturday she couldn’t wait to get the paper home and read her horoscope for the week.
Walking to the car after Ilundi’s wedding, Eve and I were commenting on how nice a mutual acquaintance looked. “Her skin looked great,’ said Eve.
‘ Skin? Chris said, ‘ I mean what do you mean skin? If you said great tits I could understand it, but skin.’
‘Don’t worry son,’ Tony said, ‘it is a woman’s thing.’
This doesn’t seem all that personal. I could tell you other things about times together – but it is hard to write it without it seeming somehow distanced.
In my minds eye I see us walking down a street somewhere and the two of them both stopping to stare at a menu in a restaurant window and deciding what to eat. Eve laughing, giggling and Tony somewhat more serious and making sure that everyone is OK.
I was dead impressed by them and totally fascinated, they seemed so incredibly grown up and sophisticated. I was about 18 at the time and they were only a few years older than me. Definitely role models.
We all went into exile in the few years after that and lost touch for many years although I would hear about them through mutual friends from time to time.
When the Hall’s came to England in the ‘70’s we met up again. The gap of years was insignificant, we shared so much, our past, our politics, our exile our travels and children. One day we went for a picnic on the downs outside Brighton. There were a bunch of adults and many children, Eve and I walked together and talked the whole way – we always had a lot to say to each other. I think we thought alike in many ways.
When Eve was studying in Reading and later when they were off on their travels again we saw little of each other, but when we did meet up from time to time in strange places we always took up again where we left off, Eve and I chatting and giggling, Tony somewhat more serious. There was always so much to talk about from children and mundane matters – gossip – to politics and putting the world straight.
Wherever they were their house seemed like home – and it was - they were always so easy to be with to fit in with. Time with them was so relaxing.
Once in Harare as I was finishing a film, Eve moved into the hotel where I was staying at the start of a consultancy there. It was their wedding anniversary and I remember us walking down the street laughing together.. I stayed with them in Harare, in Yeoville and in Addis or we met up in places like Maputo and London.
I have a picture in my head of us all – Eve, Tony, Pam and Marcelino, me and Ivan – walking along the marginal in Maputo chatting away like the old friends we were.
When they were working in Ethiopia and Ivan was shooting a film there I went out to visit and the Hall’s introduced us to many of their amazing international friends. Best of all, Tony, who knew Ethiopia so well, accompanied Pam dos Santos and myself on a trip to some historic places around the country. One afternoon we had hiked up a mountain in the Gondar region and as we sat at the top looking out at these weird shaped mountains with villages on their flat tops, Tony told us a story about a previous time in the area when he worked for Oxfam during the famine. He had been sitting on just such a mountain and had said ‘wouldn’t it be great if we could have a cup of coffee.’ Whereupon, one of the Ethiopians with him set off down the mountain and up the next one and then back again, to get some fresh coffee from the villagers there.
Much later on I visited them in their lovely place in Mpumalanga and they came to me in Cape Town. Hard to put into a few words a life long friendship with so many gaps but with so much richness and so very much in common, books, music, art and so much else.
I valued Tony’s experience as a journalist and editor and particularly valued their international take on things. Coming back to South Africa seemed so parochial to all of us, after years of travel and they were able to bring that wider perspective to our conversations that we missed so much. Our hopes were so high.
One of the things that Eve and I shared was they way we loved our children (boys all) and later our grandchildren and valued them above all and yet needed to pursue our own lives and careers which separated us from them. We really didn’t know each other’s children, I am not even sure they ever met mine, and although I came to know Andy and Chris a bit later on, I think I only met Phil once. That made no difference, we knew all about each other’s children, their wives and their own children. Sharing grandmother stories was one of out pleasures.
Eve was a great admirer of my mother, Hilda Bernstein and both Eve and Tony were very good friends of my parents. They too were able to keep alive this incredible friendship over years and countries. Towards the end of her life when my mother tended to annoy me, Eve could see nothing wrong with her and thought she was incredible. At the same time, Eve’s very elderly mother was spending a lot of time with them and Eve found that annoying at times – but I found Lisa a delight. We could stand each others elderly parent far easier than we could be with our own.
A few anecdotes: I always read the horoscope in the newspaper. Eve told me that when she was working on the paper in Kenya she was in charge of the women’s page. On a Monday she would write up the horoscopes for that week. On a Saturday she couldn’t wait to get the paper home and read her horoscope for the week.
Walking to the car after Ilundi’s wedding, Eve and I were commenting on how nice a mutual acquaintance looked. “Her skin looked great,’ said Eve.
‘ Skin? Chris said, ‘ I mean what do you mean skin? If you said great tits I could understand it, but skin.’
‘Don’t worry son,’ Tony said, ‘it is a woman’s thing.’
This doesn’t seem all that personal. I could tell you other things about times together – but it is hard to write it without it seeming somehow distanced.
In my minds eye I see us walking down a street somewhere and the two of them both stopping to stare at a menu in a restaurant window and deciding what to eat. Eve laughing, giggling and Tony somewhat more serious and making sure that everyone is OK.
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