Glenn Sterle (WA, Australian Labor Party, Shadow Assistant Minister for Road Safety) Share this | Hansard source

STERLE () (): [by video link] President Brockman, thank you very much, and congratulations on your ascension to the highest office in the land, on our side, this chamber, and I congratulate you.

I want to thank all the previous speakers—my Senate colleagues—for your kind words. There were never truer words spoken. And, yes, Senator McKenzie, we were often referred to as the Statler and Waldorf of the Senate. We thought that was quite funny, because even we thought we looked like Statler and Waldorf!

But I want to take the opportunity to thank the over 80 individuals who contacted me on that terrible day in August, the 29th, when we lost Alex, and the subsequent day, after, when the news broke, who sent their best wishes to me. I thank you very much for that.

Alex and I, as you know, go back many, many years. We first met in the early nineties. Alex was a brash, older official of the South Australia and Northern Territory branch of the Transport Workers Union; I was the younger brash official of the Western Australia branch of the Transport Workers Union. We were summoned to, I think it was, an ACTU get-together, a love-in, in Wagga Wagga. I still don't remember, to this day, what it was actually about—it was that long ago. But, on the way over, the Western Australians had had a difference of opinion in the car, and we thought we might have disgraced our branch if the news broke of the disagreement. There was the odd black eye, and someone had a scratch on their cheek. Anyway, the rest is history. It was the nineties, and it was the Transport Workers Union. But all was forgiven when we got to Wagga Wagga on the Friday night, prior to the start of the conference, because we'd found out that some brash young South Australia and Northern Territory organiser had knocked out the secretary of the branch and taken over the reins. I always thanked Alex for that; he took the pressure off us. That was the sort of bloke that Alex was. He was a no-nonsense, no-mucking-around, straight-to-the-point guy. I don't condone that behaviour nowadays, but it was nearly 30 years ago. Thankfully, things have changed.

As you all know, and you have heard, Alex lived with Fiona and me in Canberra for the last 10 years. To this day I miss, and I'm going to miss, Alex's nightly lectures on what I should be doing because my health choices and my dietary choices were wrong, even though, after a few, he'd be exactly the same—after a few quiet wines or a few quiet beers. As Senator Wong said, Sunday night was family night, when we had some normality in our life. When Fiona and I would come across from Perth and we would go up the stairs to our unit, sure enough—as you know, Senator Wong, the South Australian flight gets in before the Perth flight—the light would be on, and I'd say to Fiona, 'Oh well, Mr Happy's here—beauty.' Bottom dollar, we'd open the door, in the middle of winter, and he'd have all the windows open—sure enough.

But we had so many good nights, so many good times. Alex and I shared many, many common interests, apart from our love of the Transport Workers Union and apart from our commitment to the Australian Labor Party and their values. But, like me, Alex also had the strongest love of family. To Alex, family was everything. Alex always spoke lovingly and endearingly of Paola, who he used to refer to as 'the boss', and we knew who he meant! But also, as much as Paola had the same amount of energy and love, it was always centred around Caroline and Ian, and, of course, their extended family of Frank and Terry, and never, ever did Alex miss an opportunity to talk about Lachie and Connor up in Darwin and Mia down in Adelaide.

Alex's other loves, which he and I both shared together—because we were inseparable—were our love of golf and our love of a quiet beer or a cider or a wine together and with anyone else who cared to join us, but also to have the odd 50c each way on the odd nag every Saturday at any opportunity. Alex and I would sometimes combine those passions. We'd stay over in Canberra—Alex always kept his car over here—and, after our sittings, Alex and I would pack up and bolt off to play golf. And many, many, many times—every time we played—Alex wanted a dollar on it, or $100 or it, or, if I was lucky enough, I'd get away with $10 each way. We'd bet on golf, and we'd bet on anything. One day I had an opportunity when Alex and I were having a weekend game of golf, and this sits proudly on the bar in my games room at my home in Perth: there's a golf scorecard, and there's a $10 note and there's a golf ball. Alex wanted $100 on the front nine, $100 on the back nine and $100 overall. And I said: 'Alex, knock it off. I'll go you 10 on the front, 10 on the back and 10 overall.' To cut a long story short, the only way I could win on the last hole, which was a par 3, was that Alex had to wipe the hole—we were playing Stableford—and I had to get a hole in one. I'm happy to say I got the hole in one and he wiped, and he never, ever forgave me. He wanted that $10 back. So, Alex, I thank you for that, mate!

But I also want to talk about Alex Gallacher my mate. As we heard earlier, have heard before and will continue to hear, Alex was an absolute champion of the underdog, champion of working men and women and champion of those who didn't have a voice. Alex never saw black and white or Left and Right. Alex was there if you needed a mate and if you needed someone solid. If he was on your side, you knew you couldn't wish for a better mate in your corner—and not at your back but at your shoulder. Many, many times Alex and I had locked in on conversations and positions, and we may have argued them and we may have had disagreements. But with Alex—and this goes for everyone—you had the opportunity to work your way through it, put your case to him and, if your case proved to be the one that he could accept, he would back you in all the way. Nothing changed with Alex.

It's a well-known fact that I like to shoot off to Bali and play golf with my mates in the Christmas break, and it came to the point where in late 2019 I was planning the usual January trip to Bali. Alex had come across the year before with Paola and the family, and he'd joined me for a couple of games of golf with my mates. I'd said to Alex in late '19, 'Come and join us in Bali.' At the time Alex and Paola were building their beautiful new home, and he said: 'I've got to stay home. I've got to get the house built.' I said: 'Alright, mate; no worries.' And, unbeknownst to me, Fiona and the kids had surprised me with a special 60th birthday present: they were coming to Bali—shock, horror! It was fantastic! They came over and stayed for five days, and we had a great time. Then they left, and my mates were coming so that we could spend 10 days playing golf.

Fiona and I and my son Daniel were sitting in a beachside bar on this beautiful sunny day in Bali, one day in the first week, and the phone rang. It was Alex, but I missed the call. This was probably in the first week of January. I said to Fiona: 'That's Alex. I'll give him a call back.' I missed him, but I left a quick message saying: 'Buzz me back.' I sort of thought: 'Oh, you beauty; Alex has changed his mind and he's going to come up and play some golf with us.' And then Alex rang me straight back—this all happened in about three or four minutes—and I said to him, 'Hey, Alex, Bali bagus! Get your backside up here, mate!' to which he said to me: 'Glenn, I've got cancer.' Well, my world dropped. My heart dropped. Fiona and I were just absolutely stunned. I said to him, 'Mate, how is it?' and Alex, being Alex, said, 'Oh, yeah, you know—it's up to the doctors now.' I said, 'Alex, how is it, mate?' and he said, 'Nah, she'll be right.'

I stewed overnight. I hardly slept. I said to Fiona the next day, 'I haven't got the answer; I've got to ring him back.' I rang him back. He said, 'I'm at Bunnings.' I said, 'That's great, but how is it?' He said, 'It's not good.' I think, now, that every opportunity you get to spend time with loved ones and friends—grab it with two hands, because you don't realise how quick it can go. I looked up to Alex, even when he was lecturing me and telling me that I needed to go tell Albo or Penny, 'This is not right,' and I needed to back him. You've got to love the man. By God I miss him. I absolutely do miss him. We've been through thick and thin together.

His passion for road safety in this nation, and for industry and superannuation, was unquestionable. Nobody could hold a candle to Alex when you were discussing road safety, superannuation or worker's rights. You could try—good luck! I suppose our friendship lasted so long mainly because we agreed on everything! I always think back to that brash young South Australian organiser and the brash young Western Australian one, and I think I probably didn't fancy a bop on the nose, either, if it got that bad! Not that he ever would—he was a great mate.

I want to share a couple of stories. I won't take all that long. I do apologise to my colleagues on the Labor side, because Alex and I were the ones, along with former Senator Gavin Marshall after Hoggy left the place, who had to do the barbecues. We used to put on the aprons, and our shorts and thongs, and off we'd go and barbie. The Libs can laugh as much as they like, because they were doing the same on the other side in their shorts and thongs. Fiona was always very clear to pass on the word from the whips: do not mix up the meat with the vegetarian or vegan stuff. I won't use the same language, but Senator Gallacher said to me, 'What is the difference?' And I said, 'Alex, I don't know, but you can't mix them up.' Alex said to me, 'If I don't eat meat twice a day, I think I'm turning vegetarian.' To my colleagues: I did my best, trust me, but even I got them mixed up after a while, because I don't know what Alex had got up to. No-one suffered any injury or loss, so he got away with that one.

I want to share another story quickly before I read some words from other people. As Senator Wong said, Alex and I had the privilege of travelling together with the Rural and Regional Affairs and Transport Committee—along with you, Senator Brockman, a long-time member of our great committee. We got to share a lot of fun times and meet a lot of good people. Alex and I had the opportunity to be in Geneva together on a couple of occasions. There, he said that he wanted to buy the kids something from Geneva. He worked out something for Lachie and for Connor, and I said, 'What are you going to get for Mia?' He said. 'I've got no idea.' I said, 'Look around, mate. What are we surrounded by?' He said, 'Mountains.' I said: 'Yeah, apart from mountains, what are we surrounded by? Clocks. What little girl wouldn't love a cuckoo clock?' He said, 'Right, we're going to get a cuckoo clock.' We jumped on the tram and I tagged along to make the pair look even brighter, and to cut a long story short he bought the cuckoo clock and set it up in Mia's room at Alex's place. I used to stay in the spare room every time we were in Adelaide doing hearings, and I have to tell you, I wish to heck I had never opened my big mouth, because every hour on the hour while sleeping in the spare room, I could have choked that wooden cuckoo as it kept going off!

There are many stories about Alex, and I'll carry them to my grave. I'm going to miss you, mate. I'm really going to miss you. With the Senate's indulgence, I want to take the opportunity to read some words that other people wrote about Alex and wanted me to pass on. The first one is from Matthew Marozzi. Those of us on the Labor side know who Matthew is. He said:

When I first started working for Alex, I thought my journey with him would only be a short one. It was a shock to my system. It took around six months for Alex to warm to me, and I'm thankful for that first road trip into the Eyre Peninsula where he got to know me personally and the reason why I'm in the Labor Party. It was an understanding of shared values and knowing he could trust me. We then formed a strong working relationship due to many long parliamentary sitting nights, travel for committees, travel in regional SA, and our passion for fighting for working Australians. The bond became more than just professional, and we became friends. I was probably one of his most trusted confidants, and he was mine too.

I lost my father at the age of 18 due to the same cancer that took Alex, and, in that time, Alex truly became a father figure to me. Alex and Paola were like an additional family to me, something I will cherish forever. In fact, our office became family too, we were all long-term staffers loyal to Alex, and he was loyal to us nowing that our office of Alex, Peter, Suzie, Brendon, Pauline, and myself will never be together again also deeply saddens me.

I will forever remember and cherish the warm moments with Alex because if you received those moments, you truly knew that you were in his inner circle. I'm forever grateful for the ten years we had, and I'll forever remember those days as the good old days, which I know will never be replicated. He always had my best interest at heart, and it wasn't just about work but life as well. I will be forever indebted for his constant life advice, which well and truly showed he had my best interest at heart.

I miss my boss dearly, but also my friend, ally, mentor, and father figure. The impact he had on me will live with me for the rest of my life, and I'm proud to have been his loyal staffer and friend. I will miss him!

Rest in peace Alex, and we'll meet again.

Just in closing, I have one more set of words I would like to read from a very, very dear friend of Alex, and a person I consider a friend too. His name is Peter Garske and he writes:

The passing of Alex Gallacher, South Australian ALP Senator, aged 67, has left both myself and my wife Anne with a deep sadness.

Our friendship over 27 years was built on our understanding of his many qualities. Family was always a priority from which all of lifes activities flowed.

Alex was a lifelong achiever but always open to new learnings. He had a great vision and could see things anew/differently to others. When he was elected to the Senate in 2010 nothing changed in Alex. This transition in his life was another opportunity to support and assist those in the community with the greatest need.

He had an exceptional mind for quickly grasping new concepts. Those who knew him well knew he was the smartest man in the room—

may I add also, Alex thought he was the smartest man in the room too, and so did we most of the time—

He had an exceptionally strong social justice ethic but always with a pragmatic outlook. He was unafraid to call out his own colleagues—

and believe me, colleagues, I've been on the receiving end more than you have!—

Alex never looked to impress anyone. He was his own man with a strong sense of loyalty. He was a great judge of character.

Highlights of his life included his contribution to Family, to the Road Freight/Trucking Industry, to Industrial Relations, to Industry Superannuation Funds, and to the Australian Senate. He had a passion for golf.

Condolences to his wife Paola, his four adult children, his wider Scottish and Italian Families and his many friends.

He will be missed.

Thank you very much, Peter.

To the Senate on this condolence motion, I say: rest in peace, mate.