Eulogy given by W. Randall Jones

Today we celebrate the life of our dear friend Barbara Taylor Bradford, OBE. When thinking of how best to capture the essence of this remarkable woman, the phrase that kept running through my mind was NOT the expected A Woman of Substance, but rather the Latin phrase “sui generis”.  She was certainly, ENTIRELY one of a kind, a rare gem, an absolute original and yes, A Woman of Substance too, but we all know that. 

And her first and perhaps most famous novel is unquestionably an accomplishment of seismic substance and success—it’s still today one of the 10 best-selling novels of all time. She was A Woman of Substance, but I prefer to share with you the Barbara I knew and loved as her friend for the last 35+ years.

Surprisingly, despite our closeness, she was always a bit of an enigma to me. Here was a woman who wielded a pen like a sword, was one of the most successful novelists of all time, yet…she always thought of herself as a working journalist. She was a ferocious champion of women (all her books had strong, independent female protagonists).

She was of humble, but proud Yorkshire roots and yet…could be regally imperious. I often referred to her as Queen Barbara, and what a Queen she was.

She was sweet, gracious, charming, oh so caring, yet a total control freak and as unyielding as a bulldozer. Her beloved Bob often called her Napoleon or Iron Lady. She called him Bismark. Two very strong-willed individuals—one very happy 56-year marriage.

“Our Barbara”, as her parents and Yorkshire family referred to her, enjoyed only a partial high school education, yet she was brilliantly educated and endlessly erudite. She fancied herself a small-town meat and potatoes girl (loved Neary’s home style cooking), and yet, no one enjoyed the big city life replete with pink champagne and caviar more than BTB.

She was world famous but kept only a rather small group of close friends most of her life—you are all are here today. Shortly before her illness took control, she was working on her memoir. She had titled it, A Most Unlikely Life which she thought captured the essence of her life experience. And yet, was it really that unlikely?

For goodness sake, she started writing fiction when she was seven years old and was published in a national children’s magazine at the tender age of ten. She was paid 7 shillings and 6 pence. And when regaling me with the story she quipped: “And I’ve been paid for every word I’ve written ever since.”  A paid writing career for some 83 years – quite an achievement don’t you think?

Therefore, it is not so unlikely, or surprising at all, that she was ambitious her entire life. Nor is it surprising that she enjoyed a long list of firsts: She was the first female reporter to enter the all-male newsroom at the Yorkshire Evening Post at 16. She was the first civilian woman to break the sound barrier convincing a certain handsome 4-star general of the U.S. Airforce stationed at Lakenheath AFB to take her up and give her the Chuck Yeager experience so she could show the male reporters how a real news story is reported. I was so impressed that she convinced the Air Force brass to allow her this opportunity, I asked her, “What did you DO to make that happen?” She demurred, winked at me and said, “I got the story, didn’t I?” Our Barbara always seemed to get what she wanted.

And speaking of firsts. She was the first lady of the family saga for HarperCollins and St. Martin’s Press; the first woman to be honoured by the St. George’s Society; and she was the FIRST woman to capture Bob Bradford’s heart. Bob once shared with me that he had a brief first marriage and plenty of girlfriends before meeting Barbara in 1961 (he was a handsome Hollywood Producer after all), but he declared Barbara was the only woman he ever truly loved.  Barbara loved him and she loved love. Love was her muse.

You can tell that by the tantalizing TITLES she chose for many of her books:  Voice of the Heart, A Secret Affair, Love in Another Town, Three Weeks in Paris. Barbara admired strong, smart, ambitious women and her protagonists reflected those qualities in her titles like, To Be the Best, Act of Will, Hold the Dream, Her Own Rules, Everything to Gain. Just a few of her 40 worldwide bestsellers! Her female protagonists were pretty much Barbara at their core. 

Her male protagonists seemed to always be tall, handsome, brilliant and blue eyed—she knew her type! You see this majestically depicted in Master of His Fate, The Women in His Life and A Man of Honor.

Barbara loved being heralded as the Queen of the family saga, but you BETTER NEVER refer to her as a romance novelist. Her books had romance sure, but as she once explained to me, “that’s because romance is a universal component of the human condition.” 

But make no mistake, she saw herself as a historian, a storyteller of substance and you best not forget it. A young friend of mine when meeting BTB for the first time said rather excitedly, “Oh Ms Bradford, I just adore your romance novels”, Barbara turned as red as the bright jacket she had on, and said in her steeliest, poshest English accent: “Young lady you must have me mistaken with Danielle Steele. I am NOT a romance novelist!”

She was, however, a very proud Englishwoman, but also a proud American recently saying to me “Both of my countries shaped me and consequently I feel like I was born under a lucky star.”  She was so proud of being awarded the Order of the British Empire by her Queen Elizabeth, proud of being friends with Presidents and Prime Ministers, and like her famous character Emma Harte, she was proud of her business acumen. Though she often gave Bob the credit, she watched every aspect of her business like a hungry hawk eyeing its prey.

Perhaps it was growing up in post-Depression England and living through the perils of WWII, but no one was more careful with a pound or a dollar than our BTB and yet…she was extremely generous philanthropically and very generous with her friends.  She wrote about success, she loved accomplishment, and she certainly lived a successful, glamourous, richly rewarding life.  I think she was right—she WAS indeed born under a lucky star!

I will miss her stories, I will miss her occasional lectures, I will miss her droll sense of humour, but most of all I will miss her love. I am reminded of the words of Maya Angelou: “People will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will NEVER forget how you made them feel.” And oh, how Barbara made us feel.

Rest in peace, dear friend. And when you see St. Peter at the pearly gates, remind him you’re the world famous Queen of the family saga, the Queen of our hearts and you demand a throne.