John Arthur Sargent

Eulogy to John Arthur Sargent

(18th September 1921 - 18th July 2014)

Prepared and presented by his son, Geoffrey D Sargent[1] at Holy Trinity Church,
York, and also at St Marys Anglican Church, Busselton.

Early Life and Family

John Arthur Sargent was born on September 18, 1921, to Lionel Obeithio Sargent, a Pharmaceutical Chemist, and Edith Lilian (Lil), née Williams, a schoolteacher.

Three years later, on July 16, 1924, his brother Peter Hewlett Sargent was born. The doctor 

who delivered Peter had just attended another birth involving septicaemia, and due to inadequate hygiene infected Lil, who died about ten days later. Of the three mothers he attended that night, 

two died. Antibiotics were not yet available, making this a tragic and preventable loss of two young mothers.

The loss of his mother at such an early age profoundly affected John and shaped his behaviour throughout his life.

At the time, Lil’s sister Alice, a qualified nurse en route from Sydney to missionary work in China, cancelled her journey to care for the two boys—an extraordinary act of self-sacrifice that ended her intended career. Despite being only three, John felt the loss deeply and struggled with Alice’s practical, disciplined care. He later wrote that although they were fortunate in her ability and dedication, “the

 love of our mother had been replaced by efficiency and a no-nonsense outlook.”

Lionel and Alice married in September 1926. Alice made the boys’ clothes, but their unusual style made John a target at school. Starting mid-year and behind academically, he endured bullying and daily fights. Often, he hid his hat and shoes on the way to school. Eventually he attended Normandy Street Primary in Inglewood, near Lionel’s chemist shop at 905 Beaufort Street, where he found refuge at lunchtime 

and after school.

A Turning Point: Burges Siding

In 1929, during the Depression, he was sent to live with his aunt Eleanor and uncle John Dewing at Burges Siding near York. There, with structure, encouragement, and companionship from cousins, his 

life changed direction. He later wrote that “he sprang to life that year.”

Youth and Education

As a teenager, he rode regularly to his uncle Phil Sargent’s farm, “Fairview,” near York—often cycling

 four hours after school on a gearless bicycle. These demanding journeys reflected both his physical endurance and his attraction to rural life.

In 1935, with his friend Ron Mearns, he attended Perth Boys’ School, passing his Junior Certificate in 1937. He then studied at Perth Technical College, gaining a Pharmacy Entrance Certificate and beginning his apprenticeship with his father in 1940. During this time, he delivered newspapers in the early morning before working in the shop.

Lionel was highly capable in business and compassionate in practice, serving those unable to pay as well as those who could. His legacy is reflected in the naming of Lionel Sargent Lane near his Maylands shop.

War Years and Early Career

While working in chemist shops in Kalgoorlie and Boulder, John met Gladys Lefley on April 2, 1945. 

They met through evening singing around the piano at the Railway Hotel, where both were boarding. Gladys, a Domestic Science teacher, was a gifted pianist, and John was soon charmed by her quiet talent.

Despite earlier difficulties, John qualified as a Pharmaceutical Chemist in May 1944. At college he formed a lifelong friendship with Glyn Curtis, who later served as best man at his wedding.

During World War II, he worked in 28 relieving pharmacy positions across the state in 18 months, travelling mostly on Sundays in his 1928 Willeys Knight car powered by a charcoal gas producer.

Marriage and Family Life

John and Gladys married at St Matthew’s Anglican Church, Guildford, on May 18, 1946. Their children followed: myself, Helen, and Phillip.

As a father, discipline was strict. Perhaps shaped by his own childhood loss, he found it difficult to express affection openly, though later evidence suggests deep love for his family. I recall him hugging me for the first time at his 80th birthday. A later funeral we attended reinforced the importance of expressing love openly—a lesson I took deeply to heart.

Their first home was a converted shed on a four-acre block at Maylands, purchased for £400 and renovated for £480, resulting in a small fine for building without a permit. John worked long hours, often absent in evenings and weekends, training apprentices with discipline and high standards.

Loss and Reflection

In 1955, tragedy struck again when his parents were killed in a motor accident, Western Australia’s first simultaneous fatality. The many letters of condolence reflected Lionel’s kindness during the Depression.

John continued to work successfully, though he increasingly questioned its purpose. He longed for the simpler life he had seen at his uncle Phil’s farm—basic, healthy, and largely free from stress.

Life on the Land

After eleven years at Hardy Road, Maylands, he realised this dream in May 1957 by purchasing “Clover Downs” at Talbot Brook, near York—continuing a family connection to the district dating back to 1886.

Farm life gave us an extraordinary childhood of freedom and responsibility. We raised poultry, sold eggs, and learned practical skills in budgeting and work. Each of us responded differently, but the experience shaped us all.

Family life included joyful gatherings, especially at Easter, with music and singing—something both parents loved.

Further Trials and Responsibilities

In 1961, John suffered another loss with the death of his brother Peter.

In 1963, when I left school, he set me to building half a kilometre of fencing—an arduous but formative task that taught endurance and discipline.

Retirement and Later Years

In 1976, due to declining health from a faulty aortic valve, John and Gladys retired to Busselton, enjoying visits back to York and its agricultural shows.

John possessed a remarkable memory and a lifelong love of reading. He took great pride in his Protestant Huguenot heritage and enjoyed sharing these stories, though sometimes at length.

He deeply loved York, his wife Gladys, his children, and his grandchildren.

The Life He Loved

The farm remained central to our shared memories: frosty mornings, the scent of hay, green clover paddocks, spring flowers, shearing shed humour, lambs at play, mushroom picking, and the rhythms of farming life—especially the renewal brought by the first rains.

Final Reflections

In October 2012, following Mum’s death earlier that year, Dad fell into deep depression. In our final conversations, he reflected on his life: the loss of his mother, gratitude to me, admiration for Helen’s resilience, appreciation for Mum’s stabilising influence, the passing of his friends, and the sense that his life had been full.

A journey well travelled. An eternal peace well earned.