Mosman bids farewell to beloved homeless man Ray Johnson at wharf-side service

THERE were tears and laughter as a much-loved homeless man who lived at Mosman Bay wharf - dubbed his ‘summer palace’ - was farewelled by residents there on Tuesday.

Ray’s friends shared stories about his time in Mosman.

• Mosman mourns the passing of a legendary friend
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• Mosman's festive generosity warms homeless Ray’s heart
• Ray decorates tree for Christmas inspite of bah-humbug council

THERE were tears and laughter as beloved homeless man Ray Johnson was farewelled at Mosman Bay wharf - where he lived in his ‘summer palace’ - on Tuesday.

Mr Johnson might have been homeless but when it came to his memorial service, Frank Sinatra’s song My Way was just as fitting a tribute to him as it is to any other the song encapsulated, including self-made billionaires and movie stars.

The song might have been played on car CD player parked nearby, but it was still a poignant gesture to Mr Johnson, who died in hospital in December.

Ray Johnson was a friend to many Mosman residents.

About 40 residents gathered for his memorial service, held at what he called his summer palace — a bench at the wharf where he lived for about six years.

A social worker who attended said she’d never experienced a memorial like it for a homeless person.

There was also a sense of pride among the mourners that Mosman could care so much about a homeless man.

There were tears and laughter at the memorial service.

There were several Mosman Council representatives at the service and local police sent a fond message.

One resident, Michael Hasemer, revealed Mr Johnson and his brother were only about eight years old when they were both sent to work on a cattle farm and never saw their parents again.

Ferry commuters and residents expressed their sorrow at no longer being greeted by Mr Johnson every morning, remarking that he was always up for a chat and even enjoyed playing matchmaker.

He told the Mosman Daily just before his death that he was determined to bring people together and make them smile. Some commuters have become friends thanks to Mr Johnson’s persistence.

One of the tributes left at Mosman Bay Wharf.

Friend Brynnie Goodwill said Mr Johnson was a loyal and generous man.

“We never thought of him as homeless and neither did he. He looked after the wharf like it was his own. Ray just wanted to part of a community, and he craved friendship,” Ms Goodwill said.

“Ray taught me to re-evaluate my life and priorities.’’

Residents plan to put a plaque on Mr Johnson’s bench and to establish an archive of all the letters and notes that were left at his bench after his death at Mosman Library.

After the service, Mr Johnson’s ashes were quietly scattered across the waters of Mosman Bay.

The Mosman Daily fondly remembers many interviews with Mr Johnson and the time he caught a bus to our North Sydney office to deliver a box of cupcakes as a thank you for a story published about him.

Ray’s friends shared stories about his time in Mosman.

Ray Johnson's story by Michael Hasemer

His parents one from Scotland, one from Ireland moved to Melbourne where Ray lived as a child with his brother. He had fond memories from his early years spending time fishing with his father in a small runabout around Magnetic Island.

Rays parents bought a house, which of course came with a mortgage. Ray and his brother, two young boys aged around 8 years old were both sent off to work on a cattle farm to help pay for the mortgage, their pay being sent back to the parents. They were never to see their parents again and as the years went by and the young brothers then aged in their early teens started to notice that other people had what they called families and friends. 

Realising that things were not quite right went their separate ways. They had spent their childhood growing up without the love, care and nurturing we all receive from our parents, no education and, being on the farm, they had little interaction with other people, entering the real world feeling used and abused.

Ray moved around living in various places for years at a time. He had a favourite, somewhere over near the Domain where he had a shack in a RTA or council store area. It was made with pallets and ply, with the road workers helping him with materials and of course the little food treats that we know he liked. 

He had a lady friend living there with him for a while but she got tempted with the drugs of which Ray couldn’t stand so he had to let her go. Although Ray spoke fondly of her, he didn’t want to have anything to do with her as long as the drugs were still in her life, Ray hated drugs.

 A few years ago, after a particularly hard winter, Ray moved from the wharf up to Magnetic Island in search of a better life, following his memories and the warmer weather.  He got a bicycle, fished for his food and wanted to live off the land. 

His home there was in a cave, which was up on a hill. The walk back in to it was a bit hard and, at a guess he missed the company of the wharf commuters, his friends passing by for the daily chats he loved. Magnetic Island was not the place he remembered, nor was he treated with the friendship and respect he had at the wharf so, he eventually moved back to his home on the bench at Mosman Wharf complaining of the heat and changes he had encountered up north. 

Ray was very cheeky. If you asked if he wanted to have some dinner you would bring him from home, he asked ‘who’s cooking?’ He continually reminded you in his own way that he was not homeless; he had a home, and that was the wharf. He continued to look after it, sweep up after rowdy groups, stop graffiti, and spruced the area up through decorations and, last year, solar-powered lights, at Christmas.

We all make different choices as to how we live our lives. Ray’s answer to today’s world was to live on the ‘outside’, yet he had a community. Ray taught me through our little chats that what we think they need as a total stranger is probably wrong so you cannot just turn up and give advice at random to a homeless person. Many will get upset and we could well hurt their feelings in the process. 

We will miss Ray, his presence, his forthright (sometimes quite colourful!) comments, his profound caring and his friendship.