Harry Menne

Harry was born on the island of Java in Indonesia in 1919 of Dutch parents and grew up playing in the jungle with his brother. Our mother, Emma, was also born in Indonesia in 1922 of Dutch parents. They both endured the POW camps during WWII and survived, just barely. After the war they both traveled to Holland where they met and were married 6 months later. They were married in 1947 and wanting better opportunities and a warmer climate, went to Canada to wait their turn to enter the US. David and Linda were born in Canada, and in 1961 we finally, after waiting 7 years, traveled to California, to the San Fernando Valley, and then to Riverside where my father found a good job as a commercial artist. We moved to Fallbrook in 1969 and they lived in the same house all those years. Our mother passed in 1990.

Our father was an uncommon man. His unique approach to life and it’s challenges stemmed from a deep sensitivity to color, light, sound, fragrance and touch. He would marvel at the clouds and delight in the fragrance of a rose. He had one of the greatest minds of anyone we have ever known. From science to science fiction, from religion to world issues, from poetry to philosophy he seemed so knowledgeable and well versed. His art reflected his love of nature, the ocean and old west countryside. Many paintings bring us back to the time, place and wonderful memory of that point in time. His work reflecting years in the POW camps are particularly meaningful. They reflect the struggles and hardships that both our mom and dad endured, that we can only imagine. He was also a gifted musician and we remember the many wonderful times he and his brother got together and played music on their guitars and piano. He even wrote a few songs. Our father loved his family and made us the most important thing in his life. His deeply caring influence in our lives, his guidance and wisdom created a loving atmosphere for us to grow up in. Mom was so devoted to us too, loving, caring and concerned about every living thing around her. She particularly loved animals. We always had dogs and cats and we learned from her compassion for animals. Her beauty and laughter would fill the house. As an avid sports junkie she could never resist a competitive game of table tennis, a swim in the ocean or a pool, or a game of tennis at the local high school. While our father was a seeker, an artist and was well read, our mother loved people and had many friends, although our father in his later years realized how much he loved people too. He always had a kind word and a smile for people where ever he went. Reaching out to his friends around the world was so important to him and sending postcards and Christmas cards regularly was a must.

Our father was fiercely independent and insisted on living in his own home on his own terms till the end. He resisted our bringing in caregivers for him at first, but we were the ones who had to insist on his wellbeing and safety in the end. His own granddaughter Michaela was one of those caregivers and their relationship grew deeply and lovingly. He so looked forward to her coming over.

We want to recognize both our father and our mother in this memorial tribute. They were a perfect balance in our lives and complemented each other gracefully. The happiness that we feel they must be experiencing now helps us to lift this heaviness we feel in our hearts. This poem says perfectly what my father and mother might say to us now….

My body is away from you

But there is a window open

From my heart to yours

From this window

I will keep sending you my love.