The news yesterday of Don Donovan’s passing was very
affecting for me and my wife Diane.
Don and I worked together at Carlton Carruthers du Chateau
in Wellington in the later 1960s and we kept in touch because of a mutual love
of books and writing.
Last year I asked Don for some reminiscences about life in
advertising agencies when he started in the business for an essay I was writing
for Peter Alsop’s Promoting Prosperity
and with his reply we renewed what had been a desultory correspondence over the
years.
Early this year I
emailed Don and Pat to see if they’d be at home when Diane and I were going to
be in Auckland in early May. “Will you be around?” I wrote, thinking he might
be on a painting expedition somewhere. The quick response said he might not be
around at all, having just been diagnosed with incurable cancer.
As it turned out, he was still around when we visited them
on their beautiful Albany property on 10 May. The Lockwood’s wooden walls
hidden behind books and Don’s evocative watercolours, we spent a cheerful half
an hour with him propped up in bed, his music
earphones at the ready. We talked
about advertising, the intervening years, and he wanted to know about our
writing and publishing projects. There was a firm handshake for me, a kiss for
Diane and before putting on the earphones again he said, with a half smile and
not an ounce of self-pity, “I hope I don’t wake up tomorrow”. His wish has been granted but, as I said to
him as we left, “a great many people will be very sad indeed when that
happens”.
We enjoyed a longer chat over coffee with Pat and daughter
Philippa during our visit and now send our heartfelt sympathy to them and all
their family.
Ian F Grant
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