Barry Frary

We gather here today to remember and celebrate the life of Barry Frary. A man whose meticulous nature and vibrant personality made a mark on all who knew him. Barry was one of a kind and will never be forgotten. 

Barry started his life in Great Snoring in Norfolk, with his parents Eldred and Laura, sister Valery, who we will hear from later, and brother Keith, who was known as Buster. They had a wonderful childhood, but Barry wanted to see the world as soon as he could. When he was 17, instead of waiting for the call up for National Service, Barry volunteered to join the Army, much to the shock of his family. He was sent to Northern Ireland during the troubles, but he didn’t mind it. When he returned home to Great Snoring, he got itchy feet again. He decided to move to Sheffield with his friend. First becoming an electrician down the pit before moving on to APV where he worked for many years. Simon will tell you more about that.  

Barry met his first wife Julia in 1964, and they would soon marry in February 1965, with Simon following soon after in May. They brought up Simon together, however the marriage wasn’t to last, and they would move their separate ways in June 1985. Maybe it had something to do with Barry finding out that he could change the channel on the TV by shaking his keys, much to the annoyance of Julia. Barry had a short-lived marriage to Margery before finding Maureen, his partner of over 30’s. Barry did ask for Maureen’s hand in marriage, but she turned him down. Simon made Barry a grandad when Jack came along, and although they’ve not always been in contact, they all knew that when needed they would be there for one another.  

You will hear from Simon about Barry’s passion for motorbikes, classic cars, and their ability to create anything from scratch. But he enjoyed many other hobbies as well. Barry had a love of Spitfires. It came from his dad who was a fitter on them during the war. He would love to build models of them and would collect pictures of them. He wasn’t too pleased with Simon though when he told him that he had been in a 2-seater Spitfire without him. Barry loved to go to the Speedway. He would go down to Owlerton with Simon to watch them defy physics as they flew round the corners at break-neck speed. You could find him at the auction house as well. Barry was always looking for a bargain and would buy anything and everything that he thought he could make money on. First, he would mark down all the prices on the catalogue to know how much he could bid on each lot. Then when he did win them, he would make sure to keep the price on it, just to make sure that when the time came, Simon knew exactly how much it was worth and what to sell it for.  If he wasn’t out and about, or in his garage, you could always find in front of the TV. He would watch World War II documentaries on Yesterday and History Channels. But more often than not, he would be watching the SuperSport World Championship, hoping that one day his beloved MV Agusta will be champions.    

Simon’s Story 

All through my childhood dad used to work away through the week, so it was always exciting to see him on Friday night. He had many interests while I was growing up, radio-controlled model aeroplanes, and, of course, his love of his motorbikes and the creations that came out of his garage.   

My dad was a very skilled worker and proved his worth through hard work and an amazing ability to learn, adapt and succeed.  

He would spend hours in the garage, having an idea, making, and adapting and finishing to an incredibly high standard. He preferred to modify bikes to work rather than simple renovations, and for me, the Vincent that was in our hallway in the Norton frame that he was going to race throughout my childhood was his greatest achievement.  

He decided to strip it down, and rebuild it into a road-bike, with lots of modern touches, all seamlessly integrated to look like they were meant to be there. He was a one-stop-shop: he did all the electrics, painting, welding, and engine building. This bike won him the MCN best special of the year, I remember we used to go out on it for long runs and short hops. He was a fast but safe rider. I also never recall any of dads’ bikes or cars breaking down. He had that skill that he could “see” something in his head – and make it –and it would work.  

This was apparent in his work life as well. When we moved to Wickersley in 1970 to our brand-new house, he decided to have a career change! He became a large plant installation engineer. So, essentially, he’d have a massive empty room, some complex plans and a few months later, there would be a fully functioning dairy pasteurising plant, or fizzy drinks plant, or brewery. He was unfazed by the enormity of large projects or the intricacy of small projects. Each got 110% Frary logic, ingenuity and determination to finish right first time. 

Not only did he excel in this field in the UK, dad worked all over the world doing the same work contracting for other companies. 

A memory I always have was when his boss phoned us to say dad is on his way home from a completed contract in St. Lucia, and to not be surprised when we saw him. 

Well, we heard the key in the door, and we were greeted by dad, with the darkest suntan you could ever imagine, and an afro hairstyle. He was the whitest Rasta Wickersley had ever seen!  

Dad loved his holidays; his skin was very receptive to the sun, so he always had a great tan. He would almost turn colour just lying in the sun. Unfortunately, that gem he didn’t pass on to me.  

As I got older, and able to ride bike, he would come for rides with our mates and I. He got the nickname “flash Barry” He always had the best riding gear, and, of course, the best bikes.  

I know he loved his Vincent’s, from the first one he got by forging Nannan’s signature on the HP form, to the last Egli he owned. But his passion was Italian marques. He wanted a MV Agusta 750; a 90’s exotica motorcycle, so he set about building one from scratch. But a normal one wasn’t going to cut it – he wanted the road-going racing version – a very rare bike and prohibitively expensive. That didn’t bother dad. He built it from the frame up, the engine piece by collected piece. Some of the parts were very difficult to find – he found them through persistence and the gift of the gab and eventually built the best bike he could. I was honoured to ride that (only once) I even got him to take a pic of me on it no-one would believe I got to ride one. 

As usual, this was a show winner at many different events and shows he entered, and also another bike he wasn’t scared of using and getting it wet, usually riding it there, cleaning it and entering it.  

Even, in his eighties, he was still building bikes, although by now he was unable to ride. The pleasure in it for him was using the skills his hands possess, and his brain could transfer imagination, passion and excellence to reality.  

He was so pleased this year that MV are still racing in the world superbike series, and intricately knew every detail, micro-fact and latest news for the famous marque. He only said the week before it was going to be a great season as the team were at number one.   

It wasn’t just the Italian flair on to wheels that interested dad. He decided he wanted to be Magnum PI and bought a Ferrari 308 in Ferrari red. He loved that car, of all the many classic cars he owned, I’m sure he will agree it was his favourite. He used to go to the petrol station in it with his Ferrari jacket and his slippers.  

Dad was a sharp as a pin, everything was documented daily in a diary. Not that he needed it, you had to be pretty sure of yourself before arguing with him. I’m surprised he never took up chess… He remembered everything, with annoying accuracy, and his skill-set was the same as an army of tradesmen. He did everything: spray painting, welding, construction, tiling, wallpapering, bricklaying, drawing – in fact anything you could think off, if he couldn’t do it he had a logical thought process of how to do it. He always had a backup plan, a contingency, a safe mode.  

Perhaps the most profound example of that was right back to his dating days when he met my mum at a dance in the basement at Sheffield City hall. I don’t think she was impressed with our young Barry’s dating moves, and she made an excuse to go to the toilet. She decided that a quick exit through the toilet window was in order. Pity that the Frary cunning had that base covered and was waiting for her outside… 

My dad graced us with his presence for 88 years, he achieved so much, I never remember him saying “I wish I’d done that” he lived his best life, surrounded by people who loved him.  

Over these last few weeks, I’ve needed dad more than ever. He’s not at the end of the phone, but he’s at the front of my heart.

Funeral Service was conducted at Rotherham Crematorium at 11am on 8th April 2024.