Cory Bernardi (SA, Liberal Party) Share this | Hansard source

It is with a heavy heart that today I add my condolences and those of my wife, Sinead, and our two sons. But in doing so I wish to extend a sense of comfort, hope and peace to all of those who share in our loss here in Canberra, in South Australia and, indeed, all around the world.

It was on budget day last year that my very good friend Jeannie Ferris helped to lead me into the chamber. Sadly, she is no longer in this place, but her legacy is with us in so many ways, as is evidenced by the tributes on her life today. Jeannie fulfilled many roles, not just in her life as a politician but also as a journalist, mother and strong advocate for rural and regional Australia. She also filled many roles in my life and the lives of others. It is that which I would like to reflect on briefly today.

Jeannie was simply a great friend. She was fiercely loyal and always straight. She loved being around other people. No matter how busy she was, Jeannie always had time for her friends. She was a very generous person. She was generous not in the fact that she gave gifts all of the time; she was generous in so many different ways. When Sinead’s and my sons were born, Jeannie was always the first to call in. She would bring a pair of pants with her—the ‘first’ pants. They were always denim. Her catchcry was: ‘The first jeans from Jeannie.’ It stayed with us for all of that time. Sinead and I were reflecting on it the other day as we looked at the pants that Jeannie had given us and that we had shared with our friends and siblings—a lasting legacy and one of a number of legacies that she has left.

Jeannie’s generosity was most evident, I thought, and extended through her willingness to share her life with others. She was liberal with her advice. For more than a decade she shared her wisdom with me willingly. She was one of the people responsible for me being in this place today. There may be some of you who think that is one of her worst legacies, but there are some who appreciate it very much. For many years we worked very closely together, never more so than in the 11 months we shared as senators. Her encouragement, guidance and famous stern warnings will all be sadly missed.

Jeannie Ferris was much more than a political mentor for me. She was always interested in my family and their welfare as only a true friend ever can be. When Jeannie was hospitalised for the last time I went to see her in hospital. It was her birthday. I had greetings and gifts from some of her many friends around Australia. Whilst she was obviously in some discomfort, her eyes sparkled as we discussed what was going on in the Senate, in the parliament, in South Australia and in the lives of my family and hers. She was optimistic about the future. I do not really think she had a choice in that, for optimism was really a part of her nature. That day was the very last day that I got to see my friend. I remember very clearly her smile and the final confidences that she shared with me—of course, under the promise that I would never ever tell any other person. That was simply her way.

Only in the weeks since her passing have I come to realise just how often we used to speak together. There were phone calls every single day discussing all manner of subjects—mostly politics, because Jeannie loved the fact that politics is about helping people and it could change people’s lives. Jeannie really did change people’s lives for the better. We have heard that in all of our discussions today. Shortly after Jeannie’s passing I was talking on my mobile phone, with my youngest son, Harvey, in the room. My wife, Sinead, came in and said to Harvey, ‘Who is Daddy on the phone to?’ ‘Jeannie Ferris,’ he replied—‘Daddy is on the phone to Jeannie.’ Sinead looked a bit bemused by this and she raised an eyebrow and looked at me. Harvey then added: ‘Oh, no, he is not. Jeannie Ferris has now gone to heaven.’