Richard Marles (Corio, Australian Labor Party, Shadow Minister for Immigration and Border Protection) Share this | Link to this | Hansard source

I met Allison Murphy in 2006 after I had won ALP preselection in the electorate of Corio. We were at the opening of a park and she made a point of introducing herself to me. Within a second of meeting Ally you knew that here was a person who was bright and warm and engaging. It was an interaction that I did not expect to have at that event but, years later, is the interaction which made that event memorable.

Ally spent a number of years working in this building, albeit on the Senate side as a Liberal staffer for Senator Judith Troeth. She loved Judith, and I know that that was a feeling which was very reciprocal. If Judith were still in the Senate she would be making this speech.

Using her experience with Judith, in 2004 Ally established RedStick Strategic Communications, a public affairs consultancy that particularly catered to clients in Geelong. RedStick has been, in a professional sense, Ally's life work. And Geelong is so much the better for it. RedStick was a platform for Ally, behind the scenes, to play a huge role in the public life of Geelong.

To any situation, to any set of circumstances, to any cause, Ally brought her formidable array of skills. Ally was intelligent, Ally was sensitive, Ally was funny. She had judgement and she was full of class. Our world here is based on human relations. Ally wasn't just good at human relations—she defined excellence.

For me, I turned to Ally when it was important for Geelong that matters be handled right, and when matters in Geelong had me confused and I needed the right counsel. Through Ally's professionalism and personality, RedStick grew and grew. Before long she seemed to be at the centre of all that was important in Geelong. At many an event I can remember welcoming people to the City of Greater RedStick and introducing Ally as its Mayor. In short, she ran the joint, and it is hard to imagine how the joint will run without her.

The day I first had a coffee with Ally I returned home to my wife, Rachel, and told her I had just met her new best friend. New to Geelong, Rachel was missing her friends from Melbourne and pursuing the difficult task of building a new social circle. My prediction was right, and Rachel and Ally became very close, sharing the experiences of running a business with a young family and husbands who travelled. They also shared the joy of brightly coloured nail polish, the value of a good coffee with a girlfriend, and the pressure of a bake sale, in a way that a bloke like me will never really understand.

For Rachel and I, Ally was special, because uniquely she lived in both our worlds and as such probably understood our lives as much as anyone. But I stray into the personal, and this contribution is about a person who was not just a friend to me but dearly loved by the community I represent in this place.

On Monday, aged in her early forties, Ally suffered a catastrophic stroke. She died yesterday.

That Ally, just two days ago, awoke on Monday morning, at the beginning of this very week, just like all of us did here, and now is gone, seems preposterous. It makes no sense. It feels deeply unfair. It is quite literally unbelievable.

She leaves behind a large family, many of whom I met last night: her husband Peter, aka Stevo; her step-son, Tom; and her two beautiful twin children, Charlie and Lucy, who started at the same school as our kids just a few weeks ago. That Ally was able to witness Charlie and Lucy's first day at school carries with it a measure of comfort.

And it is to Charlie and Lucy that I want to finally speak: when you are wondering why you make friends easily, it is your mum by your side; when you are wondering why you laugh more than others, it is your mum animating your joy; and when you feel overcome with love, it is your mum who is in your heart.

Ally Murphy, you will be missed.