The Tribune

THERE will never be another gingerbread house. Not like the ones Graham Bruce created, the magical, whimsical three feet high edible works of art handmade of gingerbread, brown sugar and love, adorned with sparkles, candy, nuts and candy canes, complete with windows that let the light shine through. They were architectural and culinary wonders, those gingerbread houses, days in the making and happy slow hours in the guilty devouring.

I am not sure why the gingerbread houses stood out when Graham, my brother-in-law, died this week. Suddenly they seemed a bigger memory of family holidays past than the turkey and sweet potato casserole, the off-key singing of Silent Night, the hugs of hearty hellos and weary farewells.

Graham was 81, days away from being honoured as the oldest living Kiwanian. For years, he was the hail fellow well met running the Kiwanis toy drive booth at the Red Cross Fair.

Like all of us, Graham Bruce’s life was a journey of highs and lows, new businesses, new dreams always supported by an outsized dose of positive energy, extraordinary hands-on ability and his love of cooking. From his early days working for HG Christie and living in Exuma and later for Ervin Knowles, he was the go-getter who went farther and if he tripped, he’d get right back up and start all over again.

In the 1965 movie Thunderball, Graham was the strikingly handsome man your eyes would have gone to if Sean Connery had not been right in front of him. While 007 danced with the female star, Graham glided across the dance floor with an extra from the film in his arms.

But that extra had no chance of winning Graham’s heart. He had already met the woman who had stolen that heart and never let go, the woman he would spend the next 57 years with, Barbara Anne Phillips. She was stunning. Together they would manage numerous businesses and raise two beautiful, amazing daughters.

When Mom and Dad ran the Parliament Hotel on the street of the same name, daughters Kirsten and Alex created their own inside playgrounds on the stairwells and halls and secret rooms and closets of the historic structure they called home. The staff were their playmates and they never tired of watching Daddy create masterpieces in the kitchen, even as he trained other young chefs, including Danny and Buddy, who later became the famed Twin Brothers.

The patio of the old Parliament Hotel was a hotbed of politics back then, the place where the leaders of a newly independent Bahamas could raise a glass or an issue and the food would come out steaming hot even as the arguments and discussions grew heated. There were nights of pig roasts and the famous chicken in coconut and the morning after Junkanoo in the days when people rushed until wee hours and poured into the Parliament for the best boiled fish on the island.

Graham was a magician in the kitchen. Even in the last few years, on a walker or confined to a wheelchair, he would spin that chair around in the cramped space, find this ingredient and that, add just the right touch of spices and herbs and whip up a dish, sauces and veggies worthy of the finest dining establishment. More than a chef, it was as if he had a special connection to food so somehow it did not seem surprising that the one time he splurged on a European vacation, he took his beloved Anne to Switzerland to a dairy farm where he could watch churning and fermenting and donkeys saddled with rounds of cheese on either side going to market.

Success is measured in many ways. Graham died holding the hand of the woman who stole his heart more than five decades before, his daughters staying by his side for the last week, 24/7, leaving their own families to be with Mom and Dad.

They tried several times to tell Mom that Dad was gone...

And now that there will be no more gingerbread houses, we wonder why we did not learn what he could have taught us to carry on the tradition and why we did not tell him every time we saw him just how special he was.

Kudos on flags over downtown

There were 50th Anniversary of Independence decorations everywhere as the country celebrated an occasion that more than half the population was not around to witness but more than happy to embrace as cause to party. Among the flags, ribbons, feather banners and gold 50s, there were a few that truly stood out. Kudos to those who strung flags hung vertically in Rawson Square in downtown Nassau, looking especially great at night under the lights. And the IDB Building on East Bay dressed up in celebratory couture with great style.

Congrats, too, to those who opened their doors to community events, including my friends at Royal Caribbean who invited all of Great Harbour Cay and Bullock’s Harbour to come to Perfectday at Coco Cay, the cruise line’s private island destination. While locals are always welcome, this time it was all expenses paid party, including transport to the island, and more than 300 turned out to help celebrate throughout the week.

And congratulations to all those who organised the massive events calendar, including the Secretariat headed by Leslia Miller Brice and the quiet national treasure who answers to the name of Jack Thompson. Congratulations to the Governor General who stood upright and proud through all the heat, to the bands and performers and the hundreds whose endeavours made a vision a reality.