Bruce Leslie Gladstone Cooper – Eulogy

A Service of Thanksgiving

For the Life of

Bruce Leslie Gladstone Cooper1

27 October 1923 – 20 October 2004

[box type=”note” style=”rounded” border=”full”]The eulogies were delivered by Andrew Cooper2, David Cooper3 (sons) and David Hewlett (an “adopted” son and close family friend.[/box]

Bruce Cooper

Shore Chapel, Blue Street, North Sydney

4.00 pm – 27 October 2004

Reverend Matthew Pickering – School Chaplain

Blessed indeed is the man who hears many gentle voices call him father!  ~ Lydia M Child, Philothea: A Romance, 1836

Death leaves a heartache no one can heal, love leaves a memory no one can steal.  ~ From a headstone in Ireland

Andrew Cooper

Headmaster, Reverend Pickering and Mr David Whitehouse – thank you for allowing our family to conduct this thanksgiving service for our father today.

Our family is extremely indebted to the Headmaster and you, and privileged in being able to have a memorial service for Dad in his striking and special Shore Chapel today and, as such, send him off with the “navy blue and white” colours firmly draped around his shoulders.

This is a thanksgiving for, and in particular a celebration of, the life of our father – Bruce Leslie Gladstone Cooper, or to use his favourite acronym, “BLG”. On behalf of Louisa, Michael and David, thank you all for coming today especially those who have travelled from outside Sydney – the number of both young and old faces – he would be humbled, as we are, by your attendance today.

Dad was unique from any perspective and gained success in any endeavour that he pursued. It is most appropriate to spend just a few moments to recall some of these to understand the man whose life we wish to honour and celebrate today.

Dad was born 81 years ago today, on 27 October 1923 in Armidale NSW as the second of four children to Marjorie Doreen Wilshire, originally from Mosman and Arthur Leslie Cooper, also from Sydney but who together after their marriage had moved to the family property Toadolla near Armidale. From all accounts, he was regarded as an active child with great spirit and adventure and it soon became evident that the bush would not hold enough interest for his voracious appetite for knowledge. So it was decided to move the family to Sydney when he was 6 – initially taking up residence at Roseville and then moving to Mosman with Dad’s enrolment at the fledgling Mosman Prep School.

It was not long before my Grandmother’s life became somewhat hectic as she sought to control the misadventures of her second child. Many stories have survived on this part of his life, but what has become known as the “canoe episode” is now part of the family archives.

At this time the family was living above Musgrave Street, and at the tender age of 10, in 1933, after some persistent badgering from Dad, our grandmother gave in to his request for a canoe to paddle around the quiet waters of Mosman Bay. However, Mosman Bay grew too small too quickly for both his investigative nature and his insatiable appetite for mischief.

Having drafted his younger sister, Janet, to act as co-paddler, the pair were soon setting a course for the open seas of Sydney Harbour, dodging ferries and other steamships as they crossed the Harbour waterways.

Our Grandmother was oblivious to our intrepid pioneers’ adventures, until she received a phone call from Aunty Marjorie who lived at Rose Bay, to say that Bruce had just arrived on her doorstep – but not to worry, as they would be soon leaving to return home.

He did return home but he was, as they say, “in big trouble” – with a severe reprimand being administered by his poor anxious and worried mother – however his friends thought he was just a-w-e-s-o-m-e.

Although Dad may well have worn the wrong end of the wooden spoon after this event, it seems pretty certain that this was the beginning of his lifelong love of the sea which would continue for many years to come.

Another one of his many childhood delights was riding his billycart down the hills of Mosman, especially the daddy of all hills – AWABA STREET. Nothing was more exciting than setting off from the top of Awaba Street, dodging the tramline which ran along The Esplanade at the bottom of the Hill, sailing over the footpath, careering into the soft sand of Balmoral Beach – with no doubt a smile from ear to ear on his face. I might add that this was before the retaining wall was built. Indeed, his sense of humour, and love of those with the same adventurous spirit, would also be an important part of Dad’s character throughout.

In a similar vein, after being dressed by his mother for Sunday dinner with his Grandparents in Mosman and away from his Mother’s watchful eye, was distracted by the workmen laying a new bitumen road outside their house, Within moments, Bruce was outside “assisting” the workers. His mother, finally rounding up the four children, quickly discovered a now Blackened Bruce dripping in tar following the tar truck – but as usual happy as lark !!

Other stories of Dad, including combatants ending up in mulberry bushes, and the NSW Government Railways regretting that it gave him admission to the North Shore train line, quickly come to the fore when friends recount the life and times of the early BLG.

In between these adventures, or misadventures from our Grandmother’s perspective, he attended Mosman Prep School between 1929 to 1935 and then moved on to his beloved Sydney Church of England Grammar School or Shore as it was to become, where he was to form many firm lifelong friendships. Shore provided a valuable “extended” family and a home away from home, for by now he was without a father, and it seems clear that the strength and discipline of Shore was to provide an inestimable foundation for his approach to future life.

As I mentioned before, Dad’s love of the sea was to continue and having achieved a very efficient pass in the Leaving Certificate (4 “B” s, he would always beam) in 1939, he could not wait to join the Navy and the World War II effort, which he did as soon as he was able.

And so it was that these innocent and halcyon days of youth, as they would for so many, were about to change.


Bruce joined the Australian Merchant Navy in 1940. Again he never seemed far from action. While a cadet, and in an attempt to manoeuvre away from a suspected German patrol boat, his boat ended up being grounded on Barwon Heads. No major damage to report. His next tour of duty was off the Queensland coast when his ship was torpedoed by the Japanese. Badly damaged but still afloat, Dad with the Captain and one other volunteered to stay on board to bring the ship back to Sydney for repairs. Subsequently, after bumping into a naval colleague in Bridge Street, he was asked to go to Canada to pick up a new ship in Halifax Nova Scotia

– and here the next chapter of his life was about to unfold.


The ship arrived in Montreal, just before Xmas on 22 December 1943 where a Naval Officers function had been arranged and

ENTER one Louisa Hamilton Harrower – a wee slip of a lass

Louisa, had been reluctantly coaxed into going to THIS function by her mother, who had said that it was only the right thing to do for servicemen from foreign countries, given that her own father was in Britain flying for the Royal Air Force. However her worst fears were realised when she encountered an overly “keen” officer.

Out of nowhere, according to Mum, came her Australian Knight who rescued her from the grasp of this unwanted admirer. In return for Bruce’s kindness, Louisa invited this dashing young naval officer from Australia home for Christmas dinner – and into her heart – where he was to stay for the next 58 years !!

As a result of my maternal grandfather’s imperative that Louisa and Bruce were not to marry until after the war had finished, THEIR WEDDING took place in Montreal’s St James the Apostle Church on 9 October 1946


After the war DAD spent some time in the tourism industry before changing his focus to retail, which he felt had more interest for him. His retail management career embraced the very successful introduction of large retail department stores into Australian society. He commenced his retail career as a trainee with Snows in September 1949, wrapping parcels in the dispatch area, as he often told us, and he rose to become a Director of Waltons and a director and the CEO of the Mark Foys Department Stores.

Part of Dad’s responsibilities at Waltons was Chief Buyer which took him overseas for up to 3 months of the year, but always returning home with new gadgets from the four corners of the Globe.

It was during these times that his uncanny likeness to John Wayne was exposed to the international friends where people would do a “double take” and asked the obvious question – something that always tickled his sense of humour.

After Bruce retired from corporate life, following his first heart attack, he maintained his interest in retail consultancy advising many retail clients from both small to large. It was during this time that Bruce met Glynnis and Stan Kouros – founder of the Bonza Brats chain of childrens’ clothes stores – which are now dotted all over Sydney. Bruce, Glynnis and Stan had a natural retailing empathy and together they have grown this business remarkably over the time they have been together. Stan would often say he would not do anything – until he had spoken to Bruce. Dad loved being involved and seeing the results of their collaborative efforts.


On the home front, as many here today will attest, Bruce was the original Mr Fixit – the ultimate handyman and craftsman.

His love of woodwork – virtually self-taught – arose from the sheer necessity of life when money was short and the demands of a young growing family were increasing.

Dad embraced a number of “styles” in his craft but his skill in designing and constructing beautifully detailed antique style furniture was his specialty using his favourite Australian red cedar with the beloved “BLGC” hallmark. These pieces will live on in all our homes as fine examples of both his love for the natural materials and his love for the recipients of the furniture.

As we grew and saw the marvellous pieces of furniture, children’s toys for friends, and the many presents, that were produced, Dad’s workshop became almost magnetic in its attraction for our young and eager fingers.

Of course, personally with many school and University assignments, and then to the real thing of “home building” projects, Dad’s workshop became a happy hunting ground for the production of all things great and small. Nothing was too complicated or difficult after the assiduous mind of BLG was employed to turn any particular dream into reality. “Just give me a moment” he would say and then return with a plan and all details drawn up. Shortly thereafter, he would start and within no time, another work of art was created.

Subsequently, when we in turn became fathers of boys with similar projects, love showed no bounds, as the young amateur and eager technicians borrowed their grandfather’s carefully oiled and sharpened tools, and tapped into their grandfather’s guidance, to create yet another masterpiece for their HSC major work. Dad loved just being part of the action.


Bruce bold spirit had ensured that he was also the original boy scout. He always carried all the necessary implements for any emergency – tomahawk, spade, ropes, spare water, jerry can of petrol, and of course, the billy – all perfectly secured, in the boot of the family car, whether we were travelling to the country, or to the city for work. The words “fastidious” and “perfectionist” come to mind.

Many ventures by this intrepid explorer took the Cooper family and other fellow adventurers (the Storys and the Pfeiffers) to many distant parts of Australia – Lightning Ridge, Coopers Creek being just some – unfortunately these expeditions were carried out before the ubiquitous 4 wheel drive vehicles and inevitably Mother Nature sometimes stepped in to prevent Explorer Cooper from achieving his end destination with bogged vehicles and washed out roads being our downfall. However, these were days of great fun with many humorous incidents that the families still recall to this day.


The holidays that I think Dad enjoyed the most were those where he was able to return to his country origins. And the holidays that captured all of the above, were the May School holidays spent at Blackburn, Yass with Nono and Granny Eedy, the Hewlett family and the Kentish family.

There were 8 adults and 10 children – and what exploits we had. And it was after those adventures in the day, Dad would sit us on his knees at night-time, down in the Shearing Sheds, and sing the song Three little fishes over and over again to our joint squealing delight especially a 6 year old Mandy hewlett. These times have been, and will continue to be, a very important part of our life.

As a family, Blackburn has had a major impact on our final destiny and Junee, we are eternally grateful for those opportunities and we thank you for them.

It was during this time that Dad formed a strong affection for David Hewlett, who similarly to Dad, had had an adventurous youth but had been without the benefit of his father from an early age. That friendship has continued right through from Davo’s youthful exuberance to now and I know that our loss is shared equally by him.


Whilst you may know Dad for some of his many facets, his talents and history ranged across many endeavours. He was

  • A extremely proud Mosman Prep and Second generation Shore boy,
  • A very proud Sixth generation Australian
  • A person with the love of the sea that continued right through his life sailing with Uncle Rodney Jones for many years on Sydney Harbour
  • A successful retailer
  • A perfectionist woodworker
  • photographer
  • the fountain of all knowledge for growing young men
  • the No 1 ticket holder of the Shore Rugby Club
  • of course, the owner of Bartch – the “super” dog
  • loved brother of Janet, Truxton and Phillip
  • Enthusiastic and supportive Grandfather of Joanna and Jeffrey; Sam, Nicholas, Edward and Alexander; and Tom and Millie,
  • Mentor to Davo Hewlett and Stan and Glynnis Kouros
  • But most importantly to us, the loving father and father-in-law of Michael and Mary, David and Sally and Janie and myself
  • And to the end, beloved husband of Louisa.

If I can close with a final but important observation which is, while Dad was an astute and successful businessman, a proud Australian, and a “Shore boy” to the end, he was the definitive AND quintessential father and husband, who cared immensely for, and loved his family, by adopting a very simple approach to life of making his family, his focus:

If I can borrow some words said some months ago by David Hewlett which appropriately sums up this observation:

“You guys had no choice in who your father was to be – but I did – and I chose Uncle Bruce !!”

David Hewlett

I would like to say, firstly, what an honour I feel to be asked to say a few words about a man whom I loved very much.

I once heard a phrase that the measure of a man can be judged by what sort of father he was. Based on this measure, Uncle Bruce was a giant among men.

Needless to say, there were a large number of other qualities which helped to provide us with the man we saw and heard.

Not the least of these qualities being CHARM. I believe he invented the word. The way he could meld words, smiles and the magnificent laugh – like a great chef with a recipe, he would have someone feeling totally relaxed or malleable in his presence – be it male or female.

He had a PhD in charm, he had charisma before the word was invented. All of this charm was used, not because he desired to use it when he wanted to, or to switch it on or off, when desired. He possessed it always unknowingly as this was the way he was.

Possibly, from where I observed him, another of his amazing attributes was courage. I am sure we all have this, but Uncle Bruce had to use his time and again. It was not a “loud look at me, I have courage” type of person. He just went about things normally as was exhibited when he came up to home just after a major operation for some relaxation and recuperation. It was here that he said to Tim and me “I’ll give you a hand around the place” but don’t let Auntie Lou find out. We tore up the floor of the woolshed, we replaced a lot of the frames and joists under the woolshed, hoping that Auntie Lou would never find out about it. And she hasn’t.

He came up a few years later, again after some major surgery, for some “R&R”. And, again, this time, asking us not to let Auntie Lou know. At that time, he literally helped us to build our house, climbing up and down a ladder each day, constructing the timber walls and the timber roof. As a consequence, the carpenter was sacked and Uncle Bruce was “employed” for 4 months – and the cheque is in the mail for his efforts!

Uncle Bruce started to take a renewed interest in football at Northbridge, as each of his grandchildren made their entrance up there. Up there, an addiction was formed which until today Auntie Lou was unaware of. At this time Auntie Lou kept Uncle Bruce on a pretty tight leash as far as a diet was concerned. So every Saturday, when Shore played up at Northbridge, Uncle Bruce made a “b-line” from Mosman to the Northbridge Tuckshop – 1 Polly Waffle, 1 Mars bar – 1 for each pocket – a meat pie and a cup of tea later, he would watch game after game, regardless of who was playing, feeling as happy as a pig with all four feet and snout in the trough. If at any stage he ran out of anything, namely a Mars bar or Polly Waffle, he had at least 6 grandchildren to do his running, for no less than $10 a Mars bar.

At approximately 4.00pm, he would find Andy or Davo, complain about feeling tired and drive home. Tired, be blowed, he was like a kid arriving home from a 5 year old’s birthday party feeling sick from overdosing on Jaffas, Minties, little pies and chocolate crackles.

Just as an aside to this story, it was noticed that Andy Cavill, Master in Charge of Sport at Shore, and whose father was also a good friend of Uncle Bruce’s, helped Uncle Bruce by providing a parking space within Northbridge’s grounds to enable Uncle Bruce closer access to the sporting ovals. This was based on the belief that he was assisting the patient with regard to the distance Uncle Bruce had to walk from an alternative parking spot out in the crowded street.

However, once Uncle Bruce had parked his car, it was then only 20 metres to walk to the tuckshop and it gave Uncle Bruce a 15 minutes head start! Andy – you may have done him a disservice!

The greatest and most important attribute any person can possess I believe, is care.

Uncle Bruce had extraordinary compassion and he would listen to you with total commitment when asked. When you did speak to him it was like there was a cone of silence over the pair of you as he would speak to you with an amazing depth and an incredible quiet with a complete and utter commitment to you.

I conclude with the words borrowed from that great orator, deep thinker and philosopher Homer (Simpson), when talking about his friend Ned Flanders:

“If there were more people like Uncle Bruce, there would be no heaven as we would already have it here on Earth.”

David Cooper

How often I have heard from friends of the family the following statement about Dad – “there is nothing that Bruce cannot do”.

For as long as I can remember, when faced with a dilemma of any sort, I would say “I’ll just ask Dad”. From making the billy cart – I’m showing my age here – which was the envy of the neighbourhood, whipping up a beautifully French-polished chiffonier or secretaire, fixing a broken “anything”, seeking advice on a financial matter, and generally seeking guidance on life’s great adventures, Dad was there as a point of reference in so many ways and for so many things, with his wise counsel and guidance judiciously delivered in moderate tones as required.

But Dad provided advice and assistance to us not only in the physical sense, but in the way he conducted himself. For his family and, as I understand it, for his work colleagues, he always led by example. As a successful businessman, as a father, as a grandfather, as a brother, as a husband, as a friend, he did everything:

  • with integrity, humility, honest endeavour, compassion, generosity, gentleness, quiet self determination, but always with charm and style
  • with bravery and courage in the face of adversity
  • always thinking of others, following the school motto of Mosman Prep – “Non Nobis Solum” – not for ourselves alone
  • with good manners
  • with the ability to touch and include people from every level of our community
  • with a dedication to excellence and an attention to detail – near enough was not good enough for Dad. As Dad often said: “Little things make perfection but perfection is not a little thing”
  • acting with the courage of his convictions
  • and, in all things, acting with great wisdom.

And it is the word “wisdom” which best describes Dad. He had an innate sense of what was right and what was best. As Stan Kouros said to Mum when Dad suffered his cerebral haemorrhage some 10 years ago, and hovered near death at that time, “what are we going to do with out him?”. We now have to find out.

Dad also had a unique sense of balance but, in this context, there are some seemingly contradictory adjectives that all describe Dad.

  • He was gentle yet strong
  • He was comfortably laid back, yet filled with energy and enthusiasm for a task
  • He was a talker but, more importantly, he was a listener.

With these characteristics, he was in my view the ultimate quiet achiever, the loving husband and father and, to so many people, a great friend.

However, lest you think that Dad was perfect, I should note, for the record, that he did have a couple of faults:

  • he was somewhat intolerant of Rugby referees
  • he wasn’t too generous in his praise of bureaucratic obfuscation
  • he could be stubborn – but when pressed on this characteristic he would say, “I’m not stubborn, I’m just very determined”
  • and you have heard from David Hewlett about his love for Mars chocolate bars from the Shore Rugby canteen despite Mum’s best dietary management plans

So what were Dad’s loves and passions?

First and foremost, at the top of the list, was his young Canadian beauty Louisa whom he transported, under some duress no doubt, to a post World War II Australia which was a very different country to the one that she had left. Yet with Dad’s understanding, their mutual love and support, and friendships which continue to endure, as testament to this gathering today, this Australian partnership was to last 58 years.

From here the order gets a bit blurred and to spare embarrassment to anyone, the rest of the list is in no particular order for reasons which will become apparent when I mention a certain four-legged “friend”.

I will skip over the 3 sons and daughters-in-law, but I am sure we feature somewhere on the list, and go straight to the grandchildren. Dad has rejoiced in their successes and has with great pride, as no doubt anyone who talked to him for more than 3 minutes would painfully discover, watch them all achieve and excel in what they have undertaken to date. He was indeed one proud grandfather.

Next, to his “adopted” children – David Hewlett and Stan Kouros. Both David and Stan have brought great happiness and joy to Dad in his ability to assist and guide them. Thank you both for that. “Thank you” also to you Stan and Glynnis Kouros for providing Dad with an opportunity late in his life to pursue one of his passions, his love of retailing. Dad considered himself most fortunate to have struck up, first a working relationship and then a lasting friendship with both of you. You have been fantastic friends to both Mum and Dad and thank you on behalf of the family.

Next, his friends. I don’t know where to start. There are many names and time does not permit me to list them. However, some of you have been able to make it here today because of his love for you and your love for him. On his behalf, thank you for your friendship.

Next, his School, Shore. Shore has been an enormous part of his life. His father was educated here as were he and his brothers. He has seen his children and (male) grandchildren educated here. He has also witnessed each of his sons married in this Chapel and has participated in the christening of the majority of his grandchildren here.

As a student, old boy, parent and very proud grandparent, he has been an active member of the Shore community for over 50 years and, given this, as Andrew has mentioned, we are most appreciative to you, Headmaster, for allowing us to celebrate Dad’s life here today. In so many ways, the Christian values and principles which Shore stands for and instils into its boys are the values and principles which have guided Dad in his life.

Next is his love of rugby – he was for many years, till ill health took its toll, an avid supporter of Shore rugby, in company with that aforementioned four legged “friend” – whom I’m coming to – sitting in his favourite corner of the Northbridge “heritage listed” grand stand with school friends from years gone by (including Andy Cavill’s dad, Buster Cavill). On this topic, I cannot pass without mentioning his support of the mighty SOBBies, or Shore Old Boys Rugby, during the years when two persons, namely Andrew and I, played on the left and right wing – this was a vain attempt to confuse the opposition, but I won’t go there. Dad very much enjoyed the friendships established during those times which he retained for his life.

His love of woodwork and carving is legendary, and there are many fortunate beneficiaries, including me, of Dad’s considerable skills and talent in this area.

Next, he loved his music – Duke Ellington, Louis Armstrong, Paul Whiteman, Arnie Shaw, Glenn Miller and Harry James. He loved it loud. I can’t say Mum was all that enthusiastic about that aspect of it.

And so it brings me to that aforesaid four legged “friend”. To anyone who saw Dad on his walks, or on his trips to the Mosman shops or, well, to anywhere, also saw for many years his dog Bartch. Bartch arrived in Dad’s life through the kindness of one David Hewlett. I use the word “kindness” somewhat loosely, because those that know David and the rigours and harshness of country life know that if you are a “Blackburn” puppy and you don’t find a home fairly quickly after arriving in this world, you are pretty much a sure fire candidate for ending up on the endangered species list!

There was no greater example of man’s best friend than Bartch, and the two of them were inseparable (apart from occasional intrusions from Louisa) until Bartch’s death some years ago. On more than one occasion, Dad said to me, in all seriousness, “Did you know that Bartch can talk?” I won’t make any comment except to say Bartch was a significant reason for Dad overcoming many of the medical adversities that confronted him later in his life. As David Hewlett said to us on the day of Dad’s passing, that at least Bartch will be running across the bridge to meet him.

On a personal note, I must express some further thank you’s.

  • first, on behalf of my brothers, to our mother Louisa for so unselfishly taking care of Dad for so long. Your stoic, determined, devoted and loving care for Dad meant that he was with us for far longer than we could have otherwise expected
  • in similar vein, on behalf of the family, a special thank you to Dr Felicity Bidencope whose unswerving perseverance, professionalism and dedication meant that Dad was here for us far longer than perhaps we were entitled to. In saying this, I also wish to acknowledge the team of other doctors and surgeons who so diligently worked with Felicity to ensure Dad’s last years were as productive and fulfilling as possible. Indeed, Dad’s neurosurgeon, Dr Cook, before Dad’s last operation, described Dad as a “medical miracle” and that he was astounded that Dad had reached 80 years of age
  • and thank you also to the staff of Wyllie Lodge and to Dawn Underwood for the final care and attention they gave Dad. It was not an easy task, but they did it willingly and always with a smile
  • to Dad’s elder brother Truxton and to his sister Janet, thank you for your love and support over the years particularly in the last little while
  • to Mary, Janie and Sally – thank you for supporting Michael, Andrew and me in supporting Dad
  • a thank you also to the Whitehouse family for making George Whitehouse so freely available to Dad. George was an integral part of Bruce and Louisa’s later life and was an absolutely solid foundation for Dad in some pretty trying times. George’s unfailing companionship, friendship and attention to Dad was of incalculable benefit to him in his recovery from various medical difficulties. Thank you Molly and David
  • and a special thank you to Auntie Peg Story, Auntie Judy Arcus and Auntie Beryl Randall for your support for Dad and, more particularly, Mum not only in the last little while, but, well, for as long as I can remember. You are marvellous friends and we consider ourselves most fortunate to have had your support, encouragement and love.

Well, it has come time for me to say good bye. Whilst this is extremely painful, it must be done. But I do so in the knowledge that Dad led a strong and productive life, as a loving husband, father and father-in-law, and grandfather, as a supportive brother, and as a great and respected friend. A life in which he recently said to me he had “no regrets”.

The contribution that Dad made throughout his life to those around him in my view has been lasting. As Eleanor Roosevelt said:

Many people will walk in and out of your life, but only true friends will leave footprints in your heart.

As the measure of a person, this is a useful yardstick – one where a person’s character and conduct have left an imprint on the lives of others. To my mind, Dad has met, if not exceeded, this yardstick. Dad touched many lives during his life – I believe all have been enriched.

I also say farewell, comfortable in the knowledge that he has gone to meet his younger brother Philip and all his great and beloved friends who have gone before him .

So, we must celebrate and be thankful to God for the life of a very good man.

However, in the end, it comes down to this. Dad was my father and as such, for me, and for my brothers, he was and remains our guiding light. Dad, we will continue to look to your life for guidance and inspiration.

So farewell Dad. You are a very special person and, with all your qualities, a wonderful Australian.

It has been an honour for Michael, Andrew and me to be your sons. We consider ourselves privileged and most fortunate to have shared our life with you and to have been affected by it.

Thank you for the considerable sacrifices you have made for us and the opportunities that you have provided to us, for your sincerity, your honesty, your humour, your friendship, and all you have been, and done, in your life on Earth.

And may God look after you on the next part of your journey.

I finish with the appropriate version of the Shore School motto in this instance:

Vitai Lampada Tradunt – he has passed on the torch of life.

Love you Dad.

  1. E.6.13a.2b.2c
  2. E.6.13a.2b.2c.2d
  3. E.6.13a.2b.2c.3d

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