Jane Hume (Victoria, Liberal Party, Shadow Minister for the Public Service) Share this | Hansard source

I rise to add my voice to the chamber's condolence for our colleague and friend Jim Molan and to extend my sympathies to his family, friends and to the many, many people who loved and admired him. Jim Molan was very much a man who lived his values in the service of his country. I'm pleased to say that Jim was in fact born a Victorian, but somehow he was led astray and went over the border, ending up as a senator for New South Wales. In between that, Jim of course travelled the world in the service of those who needed help and in the service of his country. On entering this place he commented that he had been a lifelong believer in democracy, in both concept and in practice. Many of us here might be of the view that we are the same as Jim in this regard—we are not.

While we might stand in this place and deliver high-principled speeches or provide opinions on how others should follow the values that we represent, Jim walked a different path. In uniform, Jim departed Australia in the service of his country to try to ensure that people he had never met could provide for themselves a self-determined life of freedom and democracy. Over the decades and across Papua New Guinea, Indonesia, East Timor, the Solomons and Iraq, Jim went to serve. Australia couldn't hope for a better emissary than Jim Molan, a big man with an even bigger heart. He saw his role in these deployments and postings as an opportunity for Australia to walk with others on their own path to democracy and all the opportunities and the prosperity that it had given him.

At the end of a long and storied career, which included an Order of Australia, a Distinguished Service Cross and a Legion of Merit from the United States, Jim didn't stop serving. He decided that he would take his career of experience and apply it to public life, first through policy and finally through politics. I'm not entirely sure whether anyone had mentioned to him that there is no such thing as the 'Continuous Service Cross'! If politics is a vocation, it's fair to say that Jim got the call late, but, having been called, he didn't waste a moment. He didn't forget the lessons of his time in uniform, and he would march across his state and put into practice all the democratic values that he previously hoped for others and other countries with an outstretched hand and open mind, everywhere from country shows to committee hearings. He found that no amount of committee work was too great and no issue too small.

In particular I know he will be remembered for his work on the Senate Select Committee into Stillbirth Research and Education, which Senator McCarthy referred to, of which he was the deputy chair. This obviously was a matter that was so personal to him, having experienced the loss of a granddaughter in 2007, and, while Senator McCarthy has already read to the chamber some of his comments that day, I might add to that the part that most moved me. Senator Molan said:

The recommendations of this report will spare many Australian parents from the unimaginable grief of your baby going to the hospital mortuary instead of to the nursery, of making autopsy arrangements, of postnatal mothers being supported to walk through a cemetery to choose a plot for their baby, of a funeral with the smallest of white coffins being carried by a shell-shocked family member and of returning home to a house full of baby paraphernalia. That's just the blur of the first week or 10 days. Having found the strength to do all this, Sarah, Gavin, all our witnesses at this inquiry and every other traumatised, bereaved parent then has to find the strength to get out of bed and function each day for the rest of their lives.

That was a contribution that left not a dry eye in the chamber, and it was a reminder to us all that in this crazy job, which requires such a thick skin, vulnerability and an admission of it is a demonstration of strength and not weakness.

You've heard loud and clear that he was a much-loved colleague, and although he was a latecomer, he was very much adopted—indeed, embraced—by the class of 2016. Although he came with a somewhat intimidating reputation, he was just so likeable. He fit in immediately and was always the first to join his colleagues in that group and in its gatherings. Personally, I loved the fact that he would refer to me as 'one of the young members of the 2016 cohort'—not too many people refer to me as young these days, so I was very happy. As a matter of courtesy, I never corrected him on that.

Stop laughing, Senator Paterson! As we recall what Jim meant to his colleagues, I also acknowledge what Jim meant to his staff—his wonderful team—who reflected the values and behaviours of their boss. Their hard work, professionalism, admiration and loyalty was and is unquestionable.

As a soldier, Jim was witness to some of the worst of humanity's failings. He could have been forgiven if he had become hardened, or bitter, or angry or cynical, but it speaks volumes of the man that instead he was quite the opposite. He was courteous, he was generous, he was open-minded and, as we were reminded at that beautiful funeral, he was grateful. His funeral was a fitting tribute to a brave soldier, a selfless contributor and a good man. The litany of achievements, the stories of heroism and the yarns of friendship that flowed constantly and freely were food for the soul, but what most moved me was those photos. Oh, those photos! Over and over, through passing years, each in turn showed service to his nation and love of his family.

My thoughts go out to his family, of whom he spoke to us often—to Annie, Erin, Felicity, Sarah and Michael, and those beautiful grandchildren who were clearly so desperately loved. How lucky we all are to have shared our time on this earth with a man who did what we all want to do: to live a life that makes a difference. So, vale to our dear friend, Senator Jim Molan: a man whose trumpet never sounds retreat.