Picture
this.
A man dusts
off the old “which way to the beach?” line in a bar. Except there’s no pretty
girl. Or muscles.
Those are
the circumstances I first met Bernie Dekker. I was new to New Zealand fresh off
the boat from America. He welcomed me into the bar with open arms, got me a
beer, and made me a pizza.
I never did
make it to the beach that day.
But I did
stay up pretty late talking to Bernie and his wife Stephanie that night. They
told me all about their lives, how they came to open The Wines (Bernie’s
lifelong dream) and their travels to America. He showed me some videos of his
motorcycle trips to the south island. He had his bar, his wife, and his
harley.
He was the picture
of a happy man.
Over the
next couple of months I returned to The Wines more than once. Often Bernie and
I would stay up late into the night talking about different things. I really
came to value his advice, his friendship, and his stories about the open road.
It was a great introduction to New Zealand for me. As a new guy here I didn’t
know many people, and he always introduced me around whenever he got the
chance. Not a lot of people would have cared. But he did. He even let me stay
in his home after being “overserved” a time or two.
I based my
first impressions of the people of New Zealand at least in part on my time with Bernie and
Stephanie. I figured if the people were all as nice as this, then maybe I’d
come to the right place.
Eventually
I left my first New Zealand home in Palmerston North, but I’ll never, ever
forget these wonderful people who took in a stranger, showed him around, and
welcomed him.
Malcolm
Forbes said, “You can easily judge the character of a man by how he treats those
who can do nothing for him.” That was the kind of guy Bernie was. The kind that
would give a total stranger the shirt off his back. When I walked in The Wines
the first time I was a lost, scared, lonely dude completely out of his element.
An hour later I was one of the guys.
That was
the kind of guy Bernie was. The kind that made everyone feel like one of the
guys.
If I can
draw these conclusions from only a few meetings with Bernie, I can’t imagine
the stories those that have known him his whole life must have to tell about
him. My guess is they’ll ripple on for a long time though.
So sorry to
hear you’re gone Bernie. I’ll always remember you as someone who made a weary
and wary traveler completely at home.
It really
mattered to me.
You were
one of the good guys…
