My first job was at Stewart and Ross at 10/- a week as clerk.
Sir Lewis Ross later became chairmen of reserve bank Stewart was a Scotsman who used to go to and from work by taxi. He used to pocket the money from the Rainer estate and eventually Ross bought him out so he could repay the money. The partnership was later called Ross and Melville and Peter Wood worked there for a time
My next job was with Mr Percival, a public accountant for 3 months then I moved to McAlpine's in Emily place with a staff of 8. I worked there for 42 years, first as Accountant, Company Secretary, Executive Director, General Manager then Managing Director. for the last 10 years
And here is what I said on a tape that was played at his funeral:
I miss my Dad. I've missed my Dad every day for 24 years - all the time I've lived across the other side of the world. For 24 years all I've had have been my memories - those lasting recollections of youth topped up by a few fleeting visits, those ever so brief telephone calls and those all too infrequent letters.
I miss my Dad.
My Dad was brilliant. He knew things that only a Dad knows. He knew how to make a dingy and how to drive a car and how to paint a house and how to eat an icecream without it hurting your teeth. And my Dad did things that other Dads only dreamed about. My Dad flew all the way to England and back. My Dad nearly saw the Queen at her Coronation. My Dad went to Jakarta and Karachi and Iceland and New York.
I miss my Dad.
My Dad had a friend called George Teat. I'm ever so sad to hear that George died the week before Dad. George was a wonderful man, much larger than life and I miss him and Stella. My thoughts are also with Jimmy and Neville.
I miss my Dad.
My Dad and I played golf together all the time. I was with him when he scored his hole-in-one and I was proud that he was there when I scored mine - 5th hole at Remuera, I'll never forget that day, ever. And he was there when I nearly won a tournament at Te Puke only losing the final played out in the pitch black by car lights.
I miss my Dad.
I miss my Mum too. Together they were beautiful people. I've got a picture of them in my bedroom at home. It was taken when they were in their 20s, sitting on the grass with their dog - Dad smoking his pipe, Mum just being happy. And I've got pictures of them as they grew older together. Please take care of him Mum - he missed you badly.
I miss my Dad.
Here's a little poem that I really like. It comes from a collection called 'Father With Love' that my son Nicholas gave me. Whenever I read this poem it makes me think of my Dad. The poem is called 'Father Says'.
Father says
Never
let
me
see
you
doing
that
again.
Father says
tell you once
tell you a thousand times
come hell or high water
his finger drills my shoulder
never let me see you doing that again.
My brother knows all his phrases off by heart so we practice them in bed at night.
I miss my Dad.
My Dad was mad on gadgets. When few houses had more than one radio we had seventeen. We had the first pocket calculator, the first television and the first electric frypan in the street. There were gadgets for carrying drinks, for measuring heartbeats, for telling the time and for cooking things in so many ways we never had the time to learn the instructions. Indeed, only a couple of weeks ago, he had me trying to figure out if a thermometer was working. This was an indoor/outdoor thermometer with special sensors for telling what the external temperature was from inside the car. It worked - all that was wrong was that he had trouble reading the instructions.
I miss my Dad.
I also miss my brother and my sisters and all their families. Thank you to Gail and to Janne and to Kristina and Brian - and to Camille and Sandy for making his last few weeks as pleasant as possible. And special thanks to the North Shore Hospital and all those nurses in Ward 6. Wonderful people.
I miss my Dad.
He and I talked about dying. I told him that no matter what happens to you, the atoms that make up your bones and your flesh will live forever. Sometimes they will be part of trees. Other times they will be dirt or worms or just floating on the breeze. And it doesn't matter if there is a nuclear war or if the aliens capture our planet because those atoms can't ever be destroyed. And so he will live on forever. I don't know what happens to our inner selves. Maybe we come back in another life form to start again. Maybe we go to a better place in the sky. But wherever it is, my Dad deserves the best - first class treatment all the way.
Goodbye Dad - I love you lots.
And goodbye from Jac and Ian and Barry and Derek and Nicholas. Take our prayers and those from all those people from around the world who are said with me today.
I miss my Dad.