Adré - 28/07/1977 to 20/01/2015
As we have some of Adré's colleagues from the UK as well
as some other people who do not understand Afrikaans here, I am doing this in
English.
Our us hearts are aching today and we are very sad with
lots of tears, but we can celebrate a life filled with joy by a person who made
many people happy and conducted his life in such a way that I as a father can
be very proud of the legacy he has left behind.
People always had something good to say about Adré. He
was not flawless, but the good outweighed the flaws to such an extend, we
missed most of them.
I am very fortunate that we had a very good
relationship. As I am a Paul Roos old boy, the thought did occur to me to send
him to boarding school from Standard 6, but we decided not to. It was one of
the best decisions I ever took. I was able to build into my son's life with
some quality personal attention spending lots of time next to the hockey field
watching him play. He decided at a very early age that rugby was too rough. In
primary school his nickname was Wolkie (Cloud for the English) because he cried
so easily.
I started playing golf in the early eighties, but when
Adré bought himself a bicycle with the money he made from delivering papers, I
decided to join him (with a bit of encouragement from my CBMC colleagues Mike
Smit and Johan Schoeman). We were due to do our first Argus together in 1990,
but it clashed with a school camp, so Adré only did his first Argus in 1991. We
spent many hours together on the bicycles. I still have many fond memories of
this 14-year-old boy cycling to my work at the Pepkor Head Office on Parow
Industria after school so that we could cycle home together. The bicycles also
went with when we went on holiday and I also recall cycling the hills to the
west of Mount Pleasant in Port Elizabeth swearing at him because he could not
cycle up all the hills!
I always had the better of the young Adré on the cycle
until 1994 when my work sent to the UK for a year. When I came back, Adré
matured and kicked dust in my eyes. I think I managed to beat him in the Argus
once since then and that was when he did it with just about no training during
the year with the terrible South Easter. He would give done his 21st Argus this
year. He did miss a number of years due to various ailments like a broken
bottom bracket and some minor health issues. His best time was 2:49:17 on the
old 105 km route, which finished at Glen Beach.
In 2006 he did a 3:02:20 on the new longer course with
the Green Point finish. That is equal to a 2:55 on the old Glen Beach finish.
Last year was not that good and, although he did not mention it to me, I think
he decided to train a little harder for thus year's Argus so that he can try
and break that magical 3 hour barrier again. This probably led to his death
because on Tuesday night he was flying home with the South Easter on his back,
resulting in him deciding to make the fateful choice of the normal but faster
road between Boundary Road and Loxton Avenue rather than the little cumbersome cycle
path with the undulations caused where Weir and Kei Roads join Marine Drive,
which cannot be taken at high speed. Unfortunately fate had an appointment
with him. I did go to the scene of the accident on Tuesday night and was not supposed
to touch anything, but I did touch his leg and looked at the feet with the
cycling shoes, at which I looked so often in the past when I was cycling behind
him, lying in the road. I will miss them!
I also have some very fond memories of motor cycles
trips to Welkom to watch MotoGp and a memorable trip we had to Kirkwood in
2003, riding down there on Saturday and coming back on Sunday. 1,700 km in two
days! This was repeated some years later with Francois Meyer and Christo
Kleynhans as company.
His commitment as a family man did result in us having
very fewer motorcycle trips since the twins were born, but that underlined his
commitment as a family man.
We also had a fairly regular date for a light lunch at
Curry Quest, a quaint curry restaurant within walking distance of his work
Mowbray. This just did not happen often enough and I was about to schedule our
next one for early next month.
I loved my son. We had a great relationship. I am
missing him and nothing will be able to fill the void. I rejoice in the
knowledge that my son is in a better place and died doing something he
thoroughly enjoyed! I will never forget the sight of those familiar cycling
shoes in the road next to the Milnerton Lagoon!