“Out of the gloom a voice spoke unto me and said, smile and be happy, things could be worse. So I did smile and was happy — and things did get worse.”
It is with these words, both humorous and profound, that we remember a man who could find light even in the darkest of moments. Today, though our hearts are heavy with sorrow, we gather not only to mourn, but to celebrate the extraordinary life of Barry Kenyon — a man whose humanity, intellect, and kindness touched countless lives.
The Pattaya community has lost a great friend, a guiding voice, and a compassionate soul. Barry’s passing on the night of October 18 leaves an ache that will not soon fade. Yet even as we grieve, we give thanks for the remarkable journey he shared with us.
Born in August 1941 in Lancashire, England, Barry lived a life rich in purpose and accomplishment. A scholar of rare brilliance, he graduated with First Class Honours in Latin, Greek, and Ancient History from Liverpool University, and later earned a PhD in Sociology and Criminology. But beyond his academic achievements, Barry’s life was defined by service — to his country, to his community, and to humanity.
He served in the British police, including the drugs squad, during the turbulent 1960s and 1970s, and later lent his expertise overseas in Haiti and the Philippines before returning to the UK as Principal of Skelmersdale College. In 1995, he found his true home in Thailand, where he served the British Embassy as Honorary Consul and Immigration Liaison Officer, guiding and assisting thousands of expatriates with patience and fairness.
Barry was also a cornerstone of English-language journalism in Pattaya, contributing his wit, wisdom, and deep insight to numerous publications — most notably, the Pattaya Mail. His voice was one of integrity, reason, and compassion — qualities that earned him the trust of an entire community.
Ever the teacher, Barry shared his knowledge generously — whether through his popular talks at the Pattaya City Expats Club, or through the Pattaya Bridge Club, which he founded in 1994. These were not just activities; they were expressions of his belief in fellowship, learning, and shared joy.
To those who knew him, Barry was a man of strong and upright convictions — tough as nails, yet gentle at heart. He had a kindness that was both quiet and profound. He reached out to the lonely, uplifted the downtrodden, and brought calm and clarity wherever confusion or distress arose. He loved people, he loved life, and he wanted everyone around him to find happiness and dignity.
My relationship with Barry Kenyon was one of friendship, mentorship, and deep mutual respect. We met almost 30 years ago, when Barry was serving as the British Consul in Pattaya and writing for various publications, including the Pattaya Mail. From the very beginning, I was drawn to his intellect, his calm demeanour, and his quiet strength.
Barry became my guide and mentor. Through him, I learned much about the art and responsibility of journalism — about accuracy, fairness, and above all, compassion in reporting. I waited eagerly every day for his articles. He wrote about the things that truly mattered to the expatriate community, especially the British — taxes, visas, security, insurance, and all the practical issues that affect people’s daily lives. Barry never wrote carelessly. Every article he produced was the result of meticulous research and genuine concern for his readers.
I remember how others sometimes tried to copy his articles or imitate his work. While I was ready to take action, Barry — ever the gentleman — would calmly ask me not to press charges. He preferred that we simply give them a warning. Deep down, he would forgive them, saying that if his words were being repeated, it meant the message was reaching even more people and perhaps doing some good for the community. That was the kind of man Barry was — selfless, generous, and focused on the greater purpose.
We also shared many pleasant evenings together, often going out for dinner at local establishments, most of which I wanted to support through the Pattaya Mail. Barry would happily agree to write about them, giving each place the recognition it deserved. Our favourite restaurant, however, was Ali Baba. Barry loved Indian food, and our regular visits there — at least twice a month — became something of a tradition, a little pilgrimage of friendship and good conversation.
Over the years, we became very close. We spoke often, our conversations were deeply meaningful. We talked about people — their wellbeing, their struggles, and how life could be made a little easier for the expat community in Thailand. He would then take these insights and craft thoughtful articles, and I would publish them immediately in the Pattaya Mail. His work resonated deeply — his readership grew into the tens of thousands, and he was quietly proud that his words made a real difference.
Barry was more than a journalist, more than a consul — he was a man who cared. A man who gave of himself freely, who believed in using his talents to help others live better, safer, and happier lives.
I will miss him not only as a colleague, but as a brother and friend. The wisdom he shared and the example he set will remain a guiding light in my life — and in the hearts of everyone who had the honour of knowing him.
Barry had no living relatives, yet he leaves behind a vast family of friends — people from every walk of life, from every corner of the world, who were privileged to call him brother.
We shall miss you, Barry. The pain will subside, but your memory will grow stronger. You will be remembered and honoured until eternity. Your guidance and teachings will be our strength as we carry on your work — to serve, to write, to build bridges of understanding.
Rest in peace, good friend, big brother, and noble soul. May God receive you in His heart, keep you, protect you, and soothe your pain — as you have done for others all your life.
Related Report: Barry Kenyon honoured as Pattaya community comes together in moving farewell
