The possibility that Clive might make a meaningful contribution to community life motivated his decisions and actions.
As a quiet and intensely private man, he liked his contributions to be anonymous, or at least downplayed.
Clive loved Kyabram.
As a very small child in the 1930s, Clive had asthma.
His parents, Grace and Fred, believed that Clive would thrive in the country air.
When taking up residence on a farm out Wyuna way, Grace and Fred could never have imagined how well nor how quickly Clive would warm to Kyabram and country life.
After his education at Echuca Technical School, Clive found success in business.
He trained as an electrician.
He drove trucks and taxis; he especially loved the backroads.
And in the 1960s, he started out in the funeral industry.
Clive’s demeanour — his solemnity, thoughtful reflection, and dignity — seemed especially well suited to the funeral business.
With his late wife Margaret’s help, Clive grew the business considerably, expanding across the Goulburn Valley.
Clive’s business philosophy was to be cheaper than his competitors.
He provided a dignified service at an affordable price.
He was respectful, prudent and ethical.
In the past 50 years, likely no-one in Kyabram has received a bill for a small child’s funeral.
Clive absorbed the costs of other funerals, too.
Such generosities were always discreet; it was his way of supporting his community.
Clive was extremely knowledgeable about the history of Kyabram and its people.
He had a ferocious memory for names and dates.
During periods of grief for local families, Clive was a calm and reassuring figure.
The bereaved family’s love for those who had died and each other, their knowledge and experience of the world became, in turn, part of Clive’s knowledge and experience.
In this way, Clive came to understand the roles and relationships of people in the community.
Clive’s phenomenal memory for people, families and the history of Kyabram was unequalled and a community treasure, which is lost with his death.
People stumble over names and dates.
Clive never did.
Clive’s clear thinking, astute decision-making, and financial successes enabled him to expand his business ventures into farming, which he also loved.
His successes also enabled him to reinvest in his beloved community. Clive evaluated his investment decisions based on the likely community benefit that may accrue.
His loyalty and support for local institutions — Morrison and Sawers, Parkland Golf Club, the Kyabram Cemetery Trust and others — was unwavering.
Clive was involved in a wide range of initiatives in Kyabram.
He was former president of the Kyabram Club.
He was a life member of Apex and Ambulance Victoria and an active member of Legacy and the Masonic Lodge.
Clive practised the art of “guerrilla goodness” before anyone invented a name to describe it.
“Guerrilla goodness” is intentional, but anonymous, acts of generosity or kindness performed in creative ways for strangers, friends and family.
Clive assisted people, anonymously wherever he could, in myriad ways.
Clive practised “guerrilla goodness” not for praise and accolades, but because he genuinely believed that it was the right way to live.
Clive did not make provision for or contemplate a public celebration of his life.
He was too shy and humble for such things.
In the event that he was thrust into the spotlight, Clive would make a joke.
Indeed, Clive was never caught short without a joke. Clive’s sense of humour was legendary.
He was also a quick-witted raconteur, telling more stories than even Enid Blyton wrote.
Fittingly, at his send-off, many jokes were told, including one of his all-time favourites: It’s not the cough that carries you off, it’s the coffin they carry you off in.
Vale Clive Coventry.
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