Perfect Omelettes

BY ALASTAIR GUNN, NEW ZEALAND
My sister Shirley called a couple of hours ago with the news about Tony’s death.

Linda is my cousin and we have always been very close. When she first introduced me to Tony I was a young teenager and I was struck dumb at his intellect, sophistication (this was early 1960's Sheffield, UK folks) and presence – but quickly put at ease by his charm and warmth. Later I spent time with him in their flat in Ealing, west London. I have happy memories of his perfect omelettes, the best I have ever eaten, and Linda and I secretly washing his sacred omelette pan which he insisted would stick forever if exposed to water. Another favourite memory is visiting them in Birmingham in 1967. Their son Simon was two and we went to a local park and played a game that Tony had invented where we all kicked an imaginary soccer ball to each other. That’s given me so many ideas as a parent and grandparent for creative things to do with kids. Thank you, Tony.

Like everyone else, I imagine, I am both so sorry that he has died and equally glad that he is no longer suffering and that his dear ones can now accept that the shell of Tony has followed the real Tony whom (in certain moments he would have insisted on "whom") we all so loved and admired. I remember what an unexpected joy it was to meet him again after so many years (I live in New Zealand) at Shirley's in 2002 ... and how disappointed I was that the video I took of him talking about his life and thoughts about theatre never came out. So it goes.

Farewell dear Tony