This Blog comprises letters of condolence, letters written by me over some 60 years - correspondence emanating from my office situation, and correspondence originating from home. I have been a bit reluctant to share these letters in a Piece, principally because of the somewhat weird nature of a collection of messages of condolence. There is also the personal nature of the subject matter.
Because of my awareness of the sensitivities I originally de-personalised the letters by reducing names to initials, but that seemed a bit precious. None of the recipients is identified; and although a number of the late departed will be identifiable they are treated respectfully - and they have, after all, left the stage.
- ooOoo -
The personal note, I believe, is a more heartfelt way to convey sympathy than the black-edged card with its sanctimonious sentiments; and it has been my lifelong habit to write letters of condolence to the family (usually the surviving spouse) of deceased friends, workmates, professional colleagues, and clients.
The late 19th Century produced a range of compendiums of useful knowledge, badged as “cyclopaedias”, or “self-instructors”, with sections devoted to disparate topics - from household hints to how to deliver a speech to simple maths to recipes to countries of the world to sample job application letters, and to everything in between. But I have never seen examples of condolence letters; and hence offer the following as templates for someone else to follow. It is more likely, however, that they are simply the record of my lifetime of “choosing the right words”.
I am not reproducing the responses I received. They were many, and they were invariably warm.
- ooOoo -
To a workmate on the death of his wife:
May I extend my deepest sympathy on Wendy’s death. The circumstances seem to make it all the more tragic; and you will no doubt endure a period of shock, then realization, and eventually resignation.
I trust that things are made a little easier for you through the knowledge that there are many, like myself, who are sharing your grief.
To the widow of a family friend of my mother, and me:
I was distressed to hear tonight, from my mother, that Frank had died at the weekend – and doubly upset because I had intended to call in soon to see you both and to return Frank’s book, Isle of Mountains, which I’ve had for some time. But, especially, I wanted to thank him for sending me his Folies Bergere program. This is something I know he treasured for over fifty years, and be assured that I too shall treasure it.
But it was not to be. Please accept my heartfelt sympathy; and if it’s any consolation do try not to dwell on Frank's death, but rather remember him – as I do – as the soul of affability and good humour.
To a workmate on the death of her husband:
I am very sorry to hear of your husband’s death, and extend my sincere sympathy.
A sudden death may be merciful, but it gives the family no opportunity to prepare for the event; and you must have suffered a great shock.
The pain will pass in time, but in the meantime I do hope that you have family and friends to provide comfort.
To a close client on the death of his mother:
I was in your office the other day when the message came through that your mother was declining, and it was obvious that you were distressed at the news. You must have been very close. So I can imagine your anguish at arriving too late.
Mark, you have my sincere sympathy. The fact that your mother was old and ailing makes her death no easier to accept, but I’m sure the loss can be more readily borne by pressing on with the normal routine, while occasionally pausing to reflect upon what a fine mother she was and upon your happy times together.
To a fellow accountant on the death of his wife:
I have just heard the tragic news about your wife and am writing straight away to offer my sincere sympathy. You will be going through a harrowing time, but for your family’s sake you must be strong, and face the future with resolution. It may help you to know that there are people like myself offering quiet encouragement. Don’t hesitate to call on me if there’s any practical assistance I can give.
To a workmate on the death of her brother:
I was so sorry to hear of your brother’s death. What a tragedy! and all the more upsetting because it was so sudden and unexpected. And your anguish must be heightened by being so far from home, and your family, when family would be such a comfort.
Let me know if there’s anything I can do to brighten your life through this troubled period; in the meantime, you have my heartfelt sympathy.
To the son of a company director with whom I’d had close dealings:
I was saddened to see of your father’s death, and I thought you might care to know how he touched upon my life during the ‘60s.
I was then a young clerk at the accountancy office of Hancock & Woodward, and one of my jobs was to prepare information for the Board of Australian General Investments Limited. Mr. Buesst was a director of the company, and I had frequent contact with him over a number of years – many times visiting his Queen Street office to have cheques and documents signed.
The company, I think, was founded about 1928 and, if not a foundation director, Mr. Buesst was a director from its first or second year. As I recall, he remained a director until the company was taken over (some years ago). He was a notable survivor, other directors – Sir Alexander Fitzgerald and Justin Hancock – having pre-deceased him.
I always found your father to be a kind and affable man, and this is the way I shall remember him. I trust that his passing was comfortable, and extend my sincere sympathy.
To the widow of a former business partner:
Jack's death occurred while I was overseas for an extended period and I did not catch up with the sad news until I received Trevor Brown’s message upon returning home. I was sorry to hear of Jack’s passing and fondly remember our days together at Irish Young & Outhwaite. Very much the end of an era.
Trevor tells me that the funeral service was well attended, and was a fine celebration of Jack's life.
I do trust that you have coped well with the initial period of mourning, and that things are gradually returning to normal. All my best wishes.
To the widow of a fellow accountant:
I am writing to express to you and your family my sincerest condolence over Geoff’s death. Although Geoff’s illness has been protracted and his death not unexpected, nevertheless the grief is just as profound.
Geoff and I have been Discussion Group associates over many years, but our connection goes back to the 1960s when he was with Offner Hadley; so we’ve known each other a long time. He was my friend.
To a former workmate on the death of her husband:
It’s a shame that “blasts from the past” so often blow in on unwelcome winds; and I’m sorry to be making contact after so many years against the backdrop of Frank’s death.
You have my sincerest condolence.
The reference in the death notice to “a long illness” means that you yourself must have endured a long period of anxiety and stress. That’s over now; and I trust that, despite your grief, you will soon enter happier times.
The knowledge that old friends like me are thinking of you may be of some comfort.
To a friend on the death of her father:
Stan’s death was expected for some time but, as you said on the day of his funeral, it still caused such a lot of grief. He was clearly a man much loved.
Your mum’s re-location at this stage is fortuitous, I think. The move will certainly pre-occupy her thoughts; and make it a little easier for her to get over the trauma of the last few weeks. I certainly hope so. And I hope that, for you, things return to normal pretty soon.
Anne joins with me in sending our sincere sympathy.
To the sister of a former client and friend:
I was saddened to read the notice of Geoffrey’s death. You may remember me as Geoffrey’s long-time accountant and friend.
Sadly, Geoffrey and I drifted apart in recent years. For some reason (unknown to me) he decided to have his affairs looked after elsewhere; and a change in my business activities meant that I was less frequently in the City and therefore not able to call so often at Raglan Street. I did call from time to time, however, but there was no one there, and my business card slipped under the door produced no response. And it was not until quite recently that B.B. told me that Geoffrey was in a nursing home. So sad that such a vibrant and gregarious person should be removed from the company of his friends.
I know how much Geoffrey cared for you, and I do trust that you are able to bear up under your loss.
To a client on the death of her father:
It was not until I spoke the other day to Danny that I learnt of your father’s death. I am writing to offer my belated condolence.
I know that your father was no longer enjoying independent living and that his death was not unexpected, nevertheless there is always the shock and the grieving process. I trust that things have not been too difficult for you and that your life has by now returned to normal.
To the widow of a former business partner:
I was sorry to learn of David’s death, but pleased to be able to attend Monday’s thanksgiving service at St. Michael’s. I was very much impressed by the tributes, by Francis McNab’s conducting of the service, and by the overall simplicity.
Although I was David’s partner at Deloitte for a number of years, I did not “know him” as the person whose life was recounted for us. I am sure that I was the loser.
Best wishes to you and your family; and I trust that with the support of family and friends you will soon be able to settle back into something approaching normality.
To the widow of a former workmate:
I was pleased to be able to attend Friday’s gathering for Ray, and to hear the words and tributes. I trust that you were able to “get through” the ceremony at Springvale; and that things are gradually returning to normal for you and the family.
Ray was a long-time workmate and friend, and it was sad to see him go so early, and with such suffering.
You have my sincere sympathy.
To a business associate on the death of her mother:
I was very sorry to hear the other day of your mother’s death. I know that her illness has over recent months caused you great concern and stress and, in one sense, I guess her death was a relief. But equally true it’s a great loss and cause for grief.
I do trust that the grieving process is not too prolonged, and that things will soon be back to normal for you.
My thoughts are with you at this difficult time.
To the widow of a former business partner:
Jack’s death was a great shock to us all, not least to you and your family, but I trust that things are gradually getting back to “normal” for you. Things, of course, will never be the same; but the sorrow will abate………and you will always have your memories.
Jack was one of the best accountants I ever knew, certainly the “quickest” and the most intuitive. And a good man and a good friend with it. What more can I say – he will be greatly missed.
Gwenda if there is anything that I can do at a practical level – business affairs, tax return, Jack's private clients – don’t hesitate to let me know. Byaduk is not so far away, and I’d be happy to spend a day sorting through matters if that would help.
To long-time acquaintances on the death of their son:
From the eulogies it was clear that Rhett was a fine man. I didn’t know him; but I do know the two of you, and I share your grief. The horror of losing your son must be crushing.
I hope that you are sustained by the knowledge that others are thinking of you in your sorrow.
Anne joins with me in sending condolences.
To the widow of a former workmate:
As you will know, I was recently contacted by your son, and was able to identify myself to assist with the proving of Geoff’s Will. What a “blast from the past”!
I was sorry to hear of Geoff’s death, but his living to such a fine age has left you with a lifetime of memories. I do trust that Geoff’s final months and years weren’t too much of an ordeal for him, and not too stressful for you. You have family, and that must be very consoling.
So much time has passed since Geoff and I worked together [from 1960]. After I left Hancocks in 1972 I spent some years at Irish Young & Outhwaite (later Deloitte), and concluded with a dozen years in private practice in Ringwood. I’m quite retired (age 73) but frustratingly busy; wife Annie of 43 years, and three adult children.
I trust that your time of grief quickly passes, aided perhaps by the knowledge that the thoughts of others are with you.
To the son of a former business partner:
I was thumbing through some old journals the other day and was sorry to see the report of your father’s death. Although it is some years since I last saw him, I have fond memories of Roy calling in at the H & W office in Melbourne and at various national conferences.
I’ll no doubt be in Brisbane again one day and will make the opportunity to talk – as we did at last year’s Congress – of old times once more.
To the widow of a former client:
I knew “Jerry” over some years when I looked after his (and your) income tax affairs while working with Irish Young & Outhwaite. In later years I would occasionally see him around the neighbourhood, and we would reminisce about former times. Please accept my sincere condolence.
To the widow of a former business partner:
Let me add to the comments already made by John Moule and express my sincere sorrow at Bill’s passing. He was one of those rare people for whom it is impossible to find anyone who has a bad word. It was a great shame that indifferent health in his final years prevented Bill from leading the “good life” as he would have wished, but no doubt there were compensations in the family circle.
Don’t hesitate to contact me if you need assistance in business matters.
To the widow of a business partner:
I have just returned from overseas, and am saddened to learn of Tony’s death. I regret having missed the funeral and being able to express my condolences in person, but wanted you to know that Tony will be sadly missed.
I hope that by now things have somewhat settled down for you and the boys, and that you are coping with your grief.
To the widow of a business partner:
Well it was a good fight, and a tribute to you as well as to Gaven. But the battle was lost, and we are all the poorer for it.
Right now nothing can relieve your loss and your anguish. But it may be some solace to know that others are feeling for you and the children in your grief.
Gaven was a man, and a man much loved and admired. It has been a privilege to know him.
To the widow of a former business associate:
I saw with sorrow the newspaper notices of Frank’s death, and I am writing to express my sincere condolence. You will remember me from the heady days of the Abacus Investment Club; but my contact with Frank was much broader in that I was with Hancock & Woodward at the same time as his association with Silverton. We saw a lot of each other in a business context. I wholeheartedly endorse the comment made in the death notice that he was one of nature’s gentlemen.
To the widow of a former partner of my accounting firm:
Although I attended Ewart’s funeral and have kept in touch – both before and since – through Phyl Lardner I am conscious of never having recorded my profound sorrow at Ewart’s passing.
We were, as you know, of a different generation and it was never my privilege to be Ewart’s partner, but his continued involvement with the affairs of clients of the office brought us into close contact over the past eleven years, and that contact was responsible for not only a good working relationship but a close friendship. Please accept my deep sympathy.
I have no doubt that the many expressions of comfort have been of considerable help, but I also appreciate that time alone can heal. Do not hesitate to call on me if there is anything at all that I can do to help you in the time ahead.
To the widow of a former business partner:
I have returned to the office after a couple of weeks’ break to hear the sad news of Ron’s death. I extend my deepest sympathy.
Ron was one of the “identities” of the late Irish Young & Outhwaite firm, and could always be relied upon for a friendly word and a sound judgment.
Although we have not had the benefit of his counsel in recent times, nevertheless his passing leaves a significant gap.
To the family of a long-ago business associate:
I write to express my condolence at the death of Arnold Piesse. Arnold and I were for some years associated in business, when he was a senior executive with Bruck Mills and I worked at Hancock Woodward & Neill, the accounting firm that provided secretarial services to Bruck.
Arnold’s retirement, and separation by geography, has meant that I’ve had no contact with Arnold for many years; but I do trust that his final years were good ones.
To a former workmate on the death of his wife:
I knew that your office was in Swan Hill, but it wasn’t until Cup Day last year – when I was in Swan Hill - that I came upon it by chance. I was with a cousin, and told the story of how we’d been in the same office when you came to Melbourne to work many years ago.
My cousin remembered your name, and when recently thumbing through some old papers saw your wife’s death notices and passed them on to me. Ironically, I was rediscovering your whereabouts on the very day that she died.
Richard it was obviously a very tragic occurrence, and I send my sincere sympathy. I trust that the intervening weeks have brought you some consolation and that - so far as is possible – things are returning to “normal”.
To a workmate on the death of his brother:
Quite apart from the personal loss and suffering there is always something tragic about an upturning of the natural order of things. Parents should not bury their children; and young men should not die. It is against this backdrop that I extend my very sincere sympathy to you and your family, and especially to your parents.
With a senseless death there is no immediate consolation, and only time can heal; but it may be of some comfort to know that there are others - like myself – who in some small way are sharing your grief with you.
To the family of a long-ago business associate:
I’m writing to express my sorrow at the death of Howden Selleck. Howden and I worked together on mutual client matters back in the early 1960s, first when I was with the accounting firm of Hancock Woodward & Neill and later when I was a partner with the firm of Irish Young & Outhwaite. Working with him was a great pleasure.
Over the years we have “bumped into each other” from time to time and renewed our acquaintance; but I regret that in later years professional life has taken me to the suburbs, and that Howden had become a friend of my past rather than the present.
To the family of a client:
I read your mother’s death notice with some sadness, and am writing to express my sympathy.
The connection, although a professional one, goes back a long way (including the connection with your father) and, in reality, was more in the nature of a friendship.
That’s the way I feel; and I’m sorry that Sue has died.
To the family of a friend and former work colleague:
I was saddened (and disbelieving) to read of Ron’s death, in the latest issue of the chartered accountants’ magazine.
Ron and I were together for a time at Deloitte in the 1980s, but I had known him as a leading accountant and tax academic for many years prior. Perhaps you have an incomplete idea of how significant a contribution Ron made to the field of tax practice in Australia – let me tell you, it was nonpareil.
With me located in Melbourne and Ron in Sydney our opportunities for fellowship were few but, at conferences and other such, Ron and I developed a close friendship – much more than work or professional colleagues.
After we respectively left Deloitte I made it a point of meeting with Ron every time I was in Sydney. We habitually met for breakfast at Circular Quay, with me arriving from my hotel, and Ron coming across the harbour by ferry. And on occasion I was Ron’s guest at his beloved “tax lunches”.
Our most recent meeting was in March of this year when I was passing through Sydney on the way north, when my wife and I met with Ron for breakfast at the Queen Victoria building. Ron was as alert and lively as ever, and we passed a happy couple of hours.
I am so sad at his passing, and you have my sincerest condolence.
To the widow of a former workmate and business partner:
I write to offer my condolences at this time of your grief.
The grief will pass, but there will always be loving memories of Rob. He was a fine man, one who was a pleasure to work with and a pleasure to know.
Best wishes.
To the widower of a cousin:
While Ellie’s interment at Cheltenham was not a happy occasion Anne and I were pleased to attend, to lend our comfort. We offer again our sincere condolences. Ellie was someone special in our lives, someone who was always a pleasure to see; someone who, despite her health problems, was always cheery and always coping.
We hope that the pain of the past ten days will soon pass, and that you will be sustained by your loving memories, and by the support of those around you.
Anne joins with me in sending our best wishes.
To a former work colleague on the death of his wife:
I’m writing to offer my sincere sympathy on the death of Joan. I saw the funeral report in the paper but it wasn’t until this week that I was able to contact Peter Manuel and confirm that it was indeed the Joan McLaughlan I once knew.
Peter tells me that Joan had a protracted illness, and while this has its own horrible aspects I guess it does prepare you for the inevitable. I trust that you are coping well and that things for you will soon return to a reasonably normal state. I’m sure that, at this time, you’re getting much comfort from your family.
My days at Hancock Woodward & Neill seem such a long time ago, and yet my mind often wanders back to those very happy (and less complicated) days.
To the widow of a former workmate:
Tony Gregory has passed on the sad news of Ian’s death. I extend my condolence, and best wishes, to you and your family.
I guess that, at this stage, you are relieved that Ian’s trials are over, and the full realization of your loss has yet to hit you. When it does, please be comforted by the knowledge that Ian's many friends are mourning with you. He was a good man.
To the widow of a business associate:
How sad for you!
It is hard to comprehend Matt’s death, because he was a man of such vitality, and good humour.
I have known and, on occasions, worked with him for over 40 years, first in my days as an Irish Young & Outhwaite tax partner, then at Deloitte, and later when we were both Trustees of Australian Landscape Trust.
Matt was a thoroughly solid professional, and a delight to be with and be associated with. You are proud of his achievements, no doubt, and – take it from one who’s watched and admired – rightly so.
More important, though, was Matt the man: the husband, father and grandfather. Your family’s tribute in the bereavement columns leaves no doubt as to where Matt did his best work.
I offer my sincere condolence to you and your family.
To the widow of a former business partner:
Well Roy had a marvellous send-off! A beautifully prepared and delivered tribute from G.R., and totally appropriate words of comfort from S.K.; and such a lovely gathering of friends, associates and colleagues. And, of course, Roy’s grieving family.
To you and your family: please accept sincere condolences from Anne and myself.
I don’t think the actual expression was used on Thursday, but the truth is that Roy was a good man.
To the widow of a former workmate:
I attended John’s memorial service last Friday and was quite overwhelmed by the heartfelt tributes. John was clearly a loving and much loved man; and I am writing to add my personal condolence.
While John and I have seen little of each other over the years, our association “goes back a long way”. My recollection is that after leaving university John went into teaching, while I went straight into the accounting profession, joining Hancock & Woodward (later Hancock Woodward & Neill). I claim credit for having introduced John to that firm – in the sense that I saw him and chatted with him in the foyer as he was waiting for his initial interview. I left Hancocks in 1972 and my connection with John was thereafter sporadic – although interestingly it was John who, as a representative of the Institute of Chartered Accountants, conducted the quality review audit of my present firm about three years back. It was soon after that I learned of John’s departure from the profession and his plan for a major change of direction. Sadly it was not to be.
The family was no doubt comforted by the large attendance last Friday and by the range of people whose lives John had touched.
To a long-time interstate client and friend on the death of his partner:
Annie and I have been home since Friday, and the mail has been sorted and actioned. Our renovated kitchen area is splendid, and the cupboards have been re-charged – and we can again see the floors in the other rooms. We’re still awaiting the electrician and the painter for the final bits, but it’s looking good.
It was really pleasant to catch up with you – after quite a number of years – and to see that you’d lost none of your humorous demeanour, and are “wearing well”. I was sorry, though, to learn of Lorna’s death. You know I never met or knew her, but I was aware of her as a long-time presence in your life. I could see, on Wednesday, that the loss is still a raw wound. You have my sincerest sympathy.
To a long-time workmate and friend on the death of her husband:
I’m so sorry to learn of Eugene’s death. I know that he had poor heath over the years, but this doesn’t make his sudden death any easier to bear. And what a shame that you and Sandy weren’t at his bedside when the end came.
And I’m sorry to learn that you are having so much difficulty in coping with your loss. I remember giving the eulogy for a beloved uncle, and I said something like he had merely lost his life, but we – the mourners – had lost him! Sounds harsh, but it’s so true. Still, the void in your life is filled with memories, and that’s a great compensation……..so long as you are able, while using those memories for sustenance, to live in the present. They call it “moving on”.
Best wishes to you and Sandy. Anne sends her regards.
To the widow of a former client:
I was saddened to see the newspaper report of Martin’s death. I knew Martin quite well some thirty years ago when I worked with the accounting form, Hancock & Woodward, and prepared Martin's tax returns. Although our professional contact ceased long ago, we have maintained a friendly acquaintanceship over the years. Each time I ran into Martin he treated me as an old friend, as indeed I was.
My sincere sympathy to you and the family.
To the widower of a friend in the country:
You could hardly say that we saw a lot of Nyree, and you could hardly call us close friends, but Nyree was a friend nonetheless, and her death really shocked and affected us. The turn-out at her funeral was a clear indication of how widely she was loved and respected.
You have our deepest sympathy.
To the children of a former employer on the death of his widow:
You won’t remember me, but I used to work with your dad at Hancock Woodward & Neill. During those years your folks were very involved with staff and I recall many social get-togethers at your home.
All this came back to mind when I read the report of your mother’s death. Please accept my sincere sympathy.
To an interstate bookseller and friend:
The opportunity is not presented to many of us to pen an obituary for one we love.
Tragically, you have been given that distinction: your moving tribute to Maureen quite affected me.
I have no doubt that you will carry on – you have your business, the support of your daughter, Tara……….and your memories.
And the best wishes of your network of friends and customers, including me.
To a former workmate on the death of his father:
This is a voice from the past, triggered by the newspaper notice of your father’s death. Please accept my condolence.
I am prompted to write by the fact that our paths are unlikely to cross otherwise. The last time we had a chat you were, I think, working with the uniform suppliers in Bourke Street. I’m not sure that I knew your domestic situation.
I had moved on from Hancocks, and was with Irish Young & Outhwaite, later to merge with Deloitte. My latest move, having been a partner for some sixteen years, has been to set up a “two man band” accounting practice with another Deloitte man, and we’re to be found in downtown Ringwood. On the home front: wife and three pretty-grown-up kids, 23, 21 and 16. Time has flown!
Please give me a call. I would enjoy catching up, and chatting about old times.
To the widow of a former workmate:
A note to express my sorrow at Ian’s death. I was a long-time workmate of Ian’s at Deloitte, and proud to call him “friend”. Ian had a difficult and demanding job, and life had not dealt him a full hand, but he remained ever cheerful and always cooperative, and it was a privilege to have known him.
To the children of a friend and former neighbour:
This is a note in belated formal acknowledgement of Tom’s death, and to express our condolences.
I was able to attend the thanksgiving Mass on 7 December, and was most impressed at the number of people who attended. When someone lives to such a grand age there are few remaining friends, and you expect a small gathering; so the large number was a tribute to the extent of Tom’s acquaintanceships and influence, and the respect in which he was held.
As you very rightly pointed out, he was not an easy man – the words irascible, indeed ornery, come to mind – but he was also my most unforgettable character. He had the most Wagnerian way of ringing a doorbell – indeed our first encounter, after moving into number 26 Summerhill Road, was Tom announcing at our front door: “G’day. I’m Tom Baker from across the road. I’m an alcoholic!” Typically blunt; typically no nonsense; and typically commandeering the conversation. When asked to explain, Tom said that he hoped to be a guest in our home, and wanted us to understand from the outset that we must never serve him alcohol.
He was certainly a reformed drinker……..and had countless stories of former workmate “drunks” who were now pushing up daisies. His tales were endless, and his way of telling them was unique. Invariably, the niceties of greeting were by-passed, and Tom would launch straight into some story – often from the other side of Denman Avenue as he came charging across.
Not surprisingly, Tom’s take on gambling was outspoken. It is a vice far worse than the grog. When you drink to excess you get so drunk that you fall into the gutter and can drink no more; but with gambling, you gamble all that you have, and then what you can borrow, and then what you can steal – you never stop.
Final reminiscence: Tom was a good hater of politicians and officials, and he expressed his contempt with gusto, indeed venom. Can’t you see and hear him say: “Those bastards!” Literally frothing at the mouth, with the words growling from deep down his throat.
The world has lost a man of passion; and if he wasn’t always right he was wrong in the best possible way.
Annie joins with me in sending best wishes.
To the widow of a former business partner:
Ian was a great mentor to me, and central to my professional life for more than a decade (he was the reason I sought employment at Irish Young), and it is hard to imagine him not being around. Please accept my sincere sympathy.
Now the hard part begins, when you have to adapt to being without Ian, and to being physically alone. But you are not really alone – you have family and friends……..and memories. The memorial service, I’m sure, must have been a great consolation, and will be something to look back on with pleasure and pride.
Do please call me if you need help with tax returns, etc.
The subject of this letter of condolence, Ian Sutcliffe, has the distinction of being one of the few whose full name appears in this blog. Here is the obituary I wrote for a taxation profession publication, preceded by an editorial introduction:
"Gary Andrews was a partner of Ian during Ian's later professional years. Gary particularly remembers Ian at Institute professional development courses in the 1970s where Ian's answers to public forum questions were invariably 'just right'. Gary attributes this to Ian's wide experience, his almost total recall of past events, and his common sense approach.
Ian Terres Sutcliffe
9 February 1927 - 6 September 1994
Ian Sutcliffe might be described as one of the last of the old school of tax accountants - those apprenticed through the accounting profession, and gaining general grounding before coming to tax as a specialisation. He was long-time senior tax partner in the Melbourne office of Young & Outhwaite, later Irish Young & Outhwaite, and later again Deloitte Haskins & Sells. He retired from that firm in 1985.
Ian's origins were in Essendon, and he retained a life-long loyalty and affinity with that suburb and the Australian rules team that bears its name. He did this despite having spent most of his life living in Blackburn and working in the city.
Ian Sutcliffe had a wide range of interests, including a love for the Savage Club (where he was for some years treasurer), and lively participation in sub-district cricket. He played competitively for more than 40 years as opening batsman, and occasional slow left-arm bowler, retiring from the pitch at the age of 55.
As a tax practitioner, and as a man, Ian Sutcliffe feared no man and no thing, and his tireless pursuit of the 'right answer' was legend among his workmates. He literally worried problems to death. He regarded tax officials as opponents, but never enemies, and this made him a fine advocate for his clients. In the days when the system was less stitched up by Rulings, he was able to negotiate successfully with senior tax people. In this regard he maintained a high profile in the tax profession, serving on various liaison committees, and was well known and respected by high-ranking tax officials in Melbourne and in Canberra.
Ian was a member of this Institute for some 25 years and, typically, was not content to play only a passive role. He served on State Council for an impressive 14 years, and was State Chairman in 1978 and 1979. He was the sleeves-rolled-up chairman of the organising committee for the Institute's National Convention held in Melbourne in 1983.
Ian died of cancer, having fought his last fight with fortitude. The large attendance at his memorial gathering was manifest indication of the many lives he had touched. He leaves his widow Margaret, two adult children, two grandchildren, his friends, and many former colleagues who remember him with admiration and affection."
Gary Andrews
