FRANK BARBER - a kind hero at the track, who let a lot of life in!

Sometimes those racetrack gatekeepers, no matter what-coloured jackets they are wearing, get a dud wrap.

“They wouldn’t let the wind in,” is the (mis) conception.

Today at Cheltenham in Melbourne, they buried one of the best, kindest and most genuine of them of all, in Frank Barber.

If you’d been to the Melbourne races in the new millennium, you’d have noticed the beaming smile, the genuine welcoming and the face of one of the so many that keeps racing’s cogs turning.

He went down with a Caulfield Guineas racebook, a ticket in Tatts, a seashell, handmade surfboard and beach towel, a cross, each lovingly placed by his grandchildren, Hudson, Harrison, Madison, Caleb, Eden and Fearne.

No, Frank may never have owned, trained, ridden, perhaps not even backed a Group 1 winner - but Frank Barber, who simply expired August 7, after 86 fully lit years, is true hall of fame material for those often bypassed as the ones that keep the industry bubbling, without fanfare but with genuine passion and care.

Father Martin Dixon, urging the Mordialloc congregation, sensing a few racing nuts, asked if they would take odds-on Frank was already in heaven. There was nothing from Betfair for the lay.

Of course, Frank Barber was far more than the smiling face that drove the golf cart from the car park or front gate to the member’s entrance or slid open the horse’s gate in freezing cold weather (albeit with appropriate gloves) or smiled with natural courtesy and concern in heatwaves to help all.

But Frank had lived a fulsome life before he gave us in racing more of his.

A husband, he’d met wife Barb through the YCW (Young Christian Worker’s Association), father (of four) and grandfather (of six).

And there he was - a regional manager at the Health Insurance Commission, transferring into the new Medibank Private in a senior role he’d keep for a quarter of a century before retirement.

That’s when it really started. Retirement? As son Joe noted “he retired but he never slowed down.”

Try Bayside Pizza on the Nepean Highway at Edithvale, Frank would deliver, if it were aged care in Mordialloc, Frank was there.

His Chelsea bayside home was a welcoming castle for family, friends, and newcomers, the message was how comfortable Frank made them all feel, something we learned at the track as well.

If he answered his home phone the retort was “97724370 Frank Barber speaking” - it was noted.

If he ironed clothes, it would take three days, if he went anywhere, it was with a black leather satchel, he printed out most of his emails in hard copy, visited Mumbai eight times (well that was for family) and had an epicurean desire for salmon patties and after dinner sweets.

It was also mentioned that Frank’s dress sense ensured jackets and jumpers were long kept beyond possible fashion dates (though son Dean wore Frank’s lookalike after dinner singer's velvet jacket today,)

Cologne and aftershaves were too long cocooned, a pen collection treasured, but as always other people came first and made comfortable, a loveable and oh so natural Frank Barber trait.

Frank got his first Melbourne Racing Club jacket on Caulfield Cup Day in 2002, Northerly’s year, perhaps appropriately, the year of the tiger.

But Frank Barber was a real people person, Cup Day, no matter what day it was.

Sure, he may have found politics late in life, I noted a steering committee for a think-tank called "Sensible Centre”, Frank as representative for the “seniors,” into the last federal election, the Sensibles sensing Australian politics was broken, and they could “fix the mess.”

But on-course, there was no politics, everyone was equal, and Frank was always amongst his own and comfortable and relishing at it and in it.

Like retired jockey Chris Symons, who paid respects today.

“There were many trips to the races with Frank, I’d pick him up or drop him home at Chelsea.

“I learned a lot, especially his personality and what he has done for the community in small and big ways. He never stopped speaking of his family, Barbara, his children or his grandchildren. I never met them but through Frank I thought I knew them.”

“He made me reflect on things I can do better in my life. I’ll miss his beautiful smile. He never had a bad word to say about anyone, but he was cheeky too.

“When I was doing jockey cam for Channel Seven, I had my special room, Frank came in and stole my phone and took a selfie on it giving me the bird, he knew I’d love that.”

As Father Dixon said today - Frank Barber had “run his race.”

But he’d given his all, whether Frank finished in the money or not, mattered little. His form card is well marked.

He is now spelling.