Some time ago (was it really August 11?) I reported on the imminent death of my good friend, Les Randles. Liver cancer took my buddy at age 59, a tragedy on so many levels.
Well, on Sunday at Mount Panorama, Bathurst, I had the privilege to particpate with the members of Les’s family in the final farwell to the mortal remains of their husband, father and grandfather.
Les had expressed the desire to have his ashes sprinkled on the mountain, a place that was as close to a holy place as he could have possibly imagined. A devoted Alan Moffat fan for more years than I can name and a fanatical supporter of Australian motor racing (and especially sedan car racing), Les wanted to have his remains sprinkled on the hallowed ground of Mount Panorama.
It was a difficult morning, worrying that I was going to get to Bathurst on time and then wondering just how Sue, Les’s widow, would stand up to the obvious emotion that this ocassion was going to bring with it. But she was a real trooper and accomplished the task with dignity and humour.
A few, I hope, well-chosen words to say a final farewell and we took turns sprinkling some of the ashes at Skyline, just below the top control tower. I am sure that Les was looking down approvingly on the brief ceremony and would have been gratified that his final wishes were faithfully carried out.
I hope that, when my time comes, my family and friends will be able to say farewell to me with the same dignity and grace that Les’s family exhibited on Sunday.
Goodbye, good mate. You will always be missed.