For Kobe & Gianna Bryant: 'Babe, you take care of our Gigi', by Vanessa Bryant - 2020

24 February 2020, Staples Center, Los Angeles, USA

Vanessa Bryant spoke movingly about her husband, Kobe, and daughter, Gianna, Monday at the Staples Center in Los Angeles.

Thank you. Thank you all so much for being here. It means so much to us. First, I’d like to thank everyone for coming today.

The outpouring of love and support that my family has felt from around the world has been so uplifting. Thank you so much for all your prayers.

I’d like to talk about both Kobe and Gigi but I’ll start with my baby girl first.

My baby girl — Gianna Bryant is an amazingly sweet and gentle soul. She was always thoughtful. She always would kissed me goodnight, kissed me good morning. There were a few occasions where I was absolutely tired from being up with Bianca and Capri and I thought she had left school without saying goodbye. I'd text and say 'no kiss?' And Giana would reply with 'Mama, I kissed you but you were asleep, and I didn’t want to wake you.'

She knew how much her morning and evening kisses meant to me, and she was so thoughtful to remember to kiss me every day.

She was daddy’s girl, but I know she loved her mama. And she would always tell me and show me how much she loved me. She was one of my very best friends. She loved to bake. She loved putting a smile on everyone’s face.

Last August, she made a beautiful birthday cake for her daddy. It had fondant and looked like it had blue agate crystals. Kobe’s birthday cake looked like it was professionally decorated. She made the best chocolate chip cookies. She loved watching cooking shows and "Cupcake Wars" with me, and she loved watching "Survivor" and NBA games on TV with her daddy. She also loved watching Disney movies with her sisters.

GiGi was very competitive, like her daddy. But Gianna had a sweet grace about her. Her smile was like sunshine. Her smile took up her entire face, like mine. Kobe always said she was me.

She had my fire, my personality and sarcasm. She was tender and loving on the inside. She had the best laugh, it was infectious. It was pure and genuine.

Kobe and Gianna naturally gravitated towards each other. She had Kobe’s ability to listen to a song and have all the lyrics memorized after listening to the song a couple of times; it was their secret talent.

She was an incredible athlete. She was great at gymnastics, soccer, softball, dance and basketball. She was incredible dancer too. She loved to swim, dance, do cartwheels and jumps into our swimming pool and GiGi loved her TikTok dances.

GiGi was confident, but not in an arrogant way. She loved helping and teaching other people things at school she offered the boys' basketball coaches to help give the boys' basketball team some pointers, like the triangle offense.

She was very much like her daddy, in that they both liked helping people learn new things and master them. They were great teachers. Gigi was very sweet. She always made sure everyone was okay. She was our shepherd. She always kept our family together. She loved family traditions; family movie night and game night on vacations were important to her.

Gigi always looked out for everyone. She was very much in tune with our feelings and wanted the best for us. Gianna was smart. She knew how to read, speak and write Mandarin. She knew Spanish. She had great grades and kept them up, all while becoming an incredible basketball player.

She was president of school spirit, on student council. She was directors assistant for her school play, just like her big sister. She was looking forward to graduating eighth grade and moving on to high school with her big sister Natalia. I’m so happy she was given the opportunity to know that she was accepted to the same high school, she was really happy.

Gianna made us all proud, and she still does.

Gianna never tried to conform. She was always herself. She was a nice person, a leader, a teacher, wearing a white T, black leggings, a denim jacket, white high-top Converse, and a flannel tied around her waist with straight hair was her go-to style.

She has so much swag and rhythm ever since she was a baby. She gave the best hugs and the best kisses. She had gorgeous soft lips like her daddy. She would hug me and hold me so tight.

I could feel her love me. I loved the way she looked up at me while hugging me. It was as if she was soaking me all in. We love each other so much. I miss her so much.

She was so energetic. I couldn't keep up with her energy. She lapped Natalia and I on a track once. She was about 6 years old. We let her have a head start. She still bested us.

I miss her sweet kisses, I miss her cleverness, I miss her sarcasm, her wit, and that adorable sly side smile followed with a grin and a burst of laughter. We shared the same cat-that-ate-the-canary grin.

Gigi was sunshine. She brightened up my day every day. I miss looking at her beautiful face. She was always so good, a rule follower. I knew I could always count on her to do the right thing.

She was the most loving daughter, thoughtful little sister, and silly big sister. She happily helped carry the little's diaper bag or played with them. She liked helping me with Bianca and Capri. Bianca loved going to the playground, swimming and jumping on the trampoline with Gigi.

I used to tell Gigi, CoCo considered her favorite sister. Capri would smile from ear to hear when Gigi walked into the room, and Capri reminds me a lot of Gianna; they look alike and just smile with their whole face, pure joy.

We will not be able to see Gigi go to high school with Natalia and ask her how her day went. We didn't get the chance to teach her how to drive a car. I won't be able to tell her how gorgeous she looks on her wedding day. I'll never get to see my baby girl walk down the aisle, have a father-daughter dance with her daddy, dance on the dance floor with me or have babies of her own.

Gianna would have been an amazing mommy. She was very maternal ever since she was really little.

Gigi would have most likely become the best player in the WNBA. She would have made a huge difference. She would have made a huge difference for women's basketball. Gigi was motivated to change the way everyone viewed women in sports.

She wrote papers in school defending women and wrote about how the unequal pay difference for the NBA and WNBA leagues wasn't fair. And I truly feel she made positive changes for the WNBA players now, since they knew Gigi's goal was to eventually play in the WNBA.

I'm still so proud of Gianna. She made a difference and was kind to everyone she met in the 13 years she was here on Earth. Her classmates shared many fond memories about Gianna with us and those stories reminded me that Gianna loved and showed everyone that no act of kindness is ever too small to make a difference in someone's life.

She was always, always, always, considerate of others and their feelings. She was a beautiful, kind, happy, silly, thoughtful and loving daughter and sister. She was so full of life and had so much more to offer this world. I cannot imagine life without her.

Mommy, Natalia, Bianca, Capri and daddy love you so much, Gigi. I will miss your sweet handmade cards, your sweet kisses, and your gorgeous smile. I miss you, all of you, every day. I love you.

Kobe was known as a fierce competitor on the basketball court. The greatest of all time, a writer, an Oscar winner, and the Black Mamba. But to me, he was Kobe-Kobe, my boo-boo, my bae-boo, my Papi Chulo. I was his Vivi, his principessa, his reina, his queen MambaI couldn't see him as a celebrity, nor just an incredible basketball player.

He was my sweet husband, and the beautiful father of our children. He was mine. He was my everything. Kobe and I have been together since I was 17 and a half years old. I was his first girlfriend, his first love, his wife, his best friend, his confidant and his protector.

He was the most amazing husband. Kobe loved me more than I could ever express or put into words. He was an early bird and I was a night owl. I was fire and he was ice and vice versa at times. We balanced each other out.

He would do anything for me. I have no idea how I deserved a man that loved and wanted me more than Kobe. He was charismatic, a gentleman, he was loving, adoring and romantic. He was truly the romantic one in our relationship and looked forward to Valentine's days and our anniversaries every year. He planned special anniversary trips and a special traditional gift for every year of our marriage. He even handmade my most treasured gifts.

He just thought outside the box and was so thoughtful, even while working hard to be the best athlete. He gifted me the actual notebook and the blue dress Rachel McAdams wore in "The Notebook" movie. When I asked him why he chose the blue dress, he said it was because it's a scene when Ally comes back to Noah.

We had hoped to grow old together like the movie. We really had an amazing love story. We loved each other with our whole beings — two perfectly imperfect people, making a beautiful family, and raising our sweet and amazing girls.

A couple weeks before they passed, Kobe sent me a sweet text and mentioned how he wanted to spend time together; just the two of us without our kids, because I'm his best friend first. We never got the chance to do it. We were busy taking care of our girls and just doing our regular, everyday responsibilities. But I'm thankful I have that recent text. It means so much to me.

Kobe wanted us to renew our vows. He wanted Natalia to take over his company, and he wanted to travel the world together. We had always talked about how we'd be the fun grandparents to our daughters' children. He would have been the coolest grandpa. Kobe was the MVP of girl dads, or MVD.

He never left the toilet seat up. He always told the girls how beautiful and smart they are. He taught them how to be brave and how to keep pushing forward when things get tough. And when Kobe retired from the NBA, he took over dropping off and picking up our girls from school, since I was at home pregnant with Bianca and just recently home nursing Capri.

When Kobe was still playing, I used to show up an hour early to be the first in line to pick up Natalia and Gianna from school, and I told him he couldn't drop the ball once he took over. He was late one time, and we most definitely let him know that I was never late. So we showed up 1 hour and 20 minutes early after that.

He always knew there was room for improvement and wanted to do better. He happily did carpool and enjoyed spending time in the car with our girls. He was a doting father, a father that was hands-on and present. He helped me bathe Bianca and Capri almost every night. He would sing them silly songs in the shower and continue making them laugh and smile as he lathered them in lotion and got them ready for bed.

He had magic arms and could put Capri to sleep in only a few minutes. He said he had it down to a science: eight times up and down our hallway. He loved taking Bianca to Fashion Island and watch her play in the Koi pond area and loved taking her to the park.

Their most recent visit to the Koi pond was the evening before he and GiGi passed. He shared a love of movies and the breakdown of films with Natalia. He enjoyed renting out theatres and taking Natalia to watch the newest "Star Wars" movie or "Harry Potter" films.

And they would have movie marathons and he enjoyed every second of it. He loved your typical tearjerkers, too. He liked watching "Step Mom," "Steel Magnolias," and "Little Women."

He had a tender heart. Kobe somehow knew where I was at all times. Specifically, when I was late to his games. He would worry about me if I wasn't in my seat at the start of each game and would ask security where I was at the first time-out of the first quarter.

And my smartass would tell him that he wasn't going to drop 81 points within the first 10 minutes of the game. I think anyone with kids understands that sometimes we can't make it out the door on time. And eventually, he was used to my tardiness and balled out.

The fact that he could play on an intense professional level and still be concerned by making sure we made it to the game safely was just another example of how family came first to him.

He loved being Gianna's basketball coach. He told me he wished he would have convinced Natalia to play basketball so they could have spent even more time together.

But he also wanted her to pursue her own passion. He watched Natalia play in a volleyball tournament on her birthday, on January 19th, and he noticed how she's a very intelligent player. He was convinced she would have made a great point guard, with her vision of the court.

And he told me that he wanted Bianca and Capri to take up basketball when they get older, so he could spend just as much time with them as he did with GiGi. And Kobe always told Bianca and Capri that they were going to grow up and play basketball and 'mix they ass up.'

Now they won't have their daddy and sister here to teach them, and that is truly a loss I do not understand. But I'm so thankful Kobe heard CoCo say 'Dada.' He isn't going to be here to drop Bianca and Capri off at Pre-K or kindergarten. He isn't going to be here to tell me to 'get a grip, V,' when we have to leave the kindergarten classroom or show up to our daughter's doctor's visits for my own moral support.

He isn't going to be able to walk our girls down the aisle or spin me around on the dance floor while singing "PYT" to me. But I want my daughters to know and remember the amazing person, husband and father he was.

The kind of man that wanted to teach the future generations to be better and keep them from making his own mistakes. He always liked working and doing projects to improve kids' lives. He taught us all valuable lessons about life and sports through his NBA career, his books, his showed detail, and his Punies podcast series, and we're so thankful he left those lessons and stories behind for us.

He was thoughtful and wrote the best love letters and cards. And GiGi had his wonderful ability to express her feelings and take paper and make you feel her love through her words. She was thoughtful like him. They were so easy to love.

Everyone naturally gravitated towards them. They were funny, happy, silly, and they loved life. They were so full of joy and adventure. God knew they couldn't be on this Earth without each other. He had to bring them home to have them together.

Babe, you take care of our Gigi. And I got Nani, Bibi and Coco. We're still the best team. We love and miss you, Boo-Boo and GiGi. May you both rest in peace and have fun in Heaven until we meet again one day. We love you both, and miss you, forever and always. Mommy.

for Pat Summitt: 'Who is this woman', by Michelle Marciniak - 2016

30 June 2016, Thompson-Boling Arena, Tennessee, USA

There are 161 of us, Pat's former players … and any one of us could be standing up here today. I feel a great deal of humility and responsibility to give you a real sense of who Pat was to us.

We are all hurting. The sadness we are feeling is unexplainable because it seems so unfair. I ask myself why? Why Pat, Lord? Why did you pick her to fight this awful disease? And why did you take one of the finest women to ever set foot on this earth in a short five years?

We looked up to her. She was our coach and our role model, our mentor and our friend. She was a superhero. I can't help but ask these questions.

Honestly, I'm angry. That's how I feel. This disease is awful. Pat would still be coaching on the sidelines today if it weren't for Alzheimer's. I want to find a cure because it killed my coach. It killed her. That's reality.

But I guess that's just it. We are not in control of our final destiny. And we know from Pat's passing that we are never promised tomorrow.

This is where faith comes in and Pat had a ton of it. I have to admit that my road with Pat was not a smooth one but because she had faith, and so did I, I knew that her heart was always in the right place. And for that reason alone, I respected and trusted her.

All of us former players are the lucky ones. We've been given a blessing to have been coached by Pat, to learn from her, to watch her, to go into battle with her, to experience her presence in person through the good times and bad.

We ask ourselves, what are we to learn from this?

You know, we watched film endlessly with Pat. She wanted us to analyze, listen and learn. She would monitor and then wanted us to self-monitor. She would teach us and coach us in those film sessions and wanted us to own our mistakes so that we wouldn't make the same mistakes again.

Because of that we owned our successes and failures. She knew something we didn't and she guided us toward what she knew but always made us finish the last lap.

I believe with my whole heart that Pat would want us to be strong for her during these difficult days that led into and will depart from her death. I know for me personally, she hated when I started to cry. She used to always say, "Quit your cryin' Marciniak." And she said many times after being diagnosed, don't throw a pity party for me. She meant it. There was no room for excuses, not even good ones.

When I first arrived on campus, seeing how visible the Lady Vol program was and how public Pat expected us to be, I felt the need to share with Pat that I grew up with a speech impediment. I stuttered. Therefore I had a great fear of speaking and told her that I would not be comfortable speaking in public and introducing myself. Pat looked at me with her steely stare responded simple, concise and direct and told me to get over it.

I was stunned and offended at her lack of empathy but I learned later that she saw it as an opportunity for me to grow. And she tested me time and time again because from that point on when we would be in any setting and Pat was always the grand marshal of every event or dinner. Pat would say, "Do any of our players have anything to say. Michelle?"

She put me on the spot. She made me speak. She made me face my fears. My biggest accomplishment playing for Pat was not winning a national championship, it was speaking.

Speaking at the Sears trophy presentation and on ESPN immediately following our championship game. Speaking at the White House. Speaking as an entrepreneur and then speaking for Pat whenever I could when she was diagnosed with Alzheimer's.

The confidence she instilled within me to stand up and speak out was life changing. Pat helped me discover a voice I didn't know I had. If she did this for me, imagine what she did for the 160 other players.

This was Pat at her core. From the compassion she had for Chamique (Holdsclaw) to walk her through her illness to the endless support Pat gave me in being an entrepreneur. Pat was all about her players and finding out ways to help us become better people, better professionals post-career.

Pat had a way at finding just the perfect time to enter and re-enter our lives and offer love and support.

I think Kara (Lawson) said it best when she said that Pat lives in each of us every day.

As I thought about what I wanted to say today, I thought about you, Hazel, a mother who just lost her daughter. I thought about you Tommy and Charles and Kenneth and Linda, siblings who just lost their sister. I thought about you, Tyler, a son who just lost his mother.

As most people know, Tyler was nearly born in my living room during Pat's recruiting visit so we have always shared a special bond.

Tyler, as you might remember, we were at the Sports Illustrated Sportsman of the Year awards in 2011 just after Pat's diagnosis. You and Pat were sitting in the front row that night. I had written a tribute for her that I delivered at the ceremony. As I thought about what to say today, I went back to that tribute because to me, it captured the essence of who Pat was at her core. So here we go:

"Who is this woman"

A bond of everlasting proportion in 1990

A truly unique moment that you and I shared together

His name is Tyler

The amazing blessing you brought into this world

Your son kicking inside of you as you sat in my living room

Toughing it out, as you do with every aspect of your life

I thought, "Who is this woman?"

In my home, 9 months pregnant

Fighting nature to sacrifice for ... for what?

The answer came clear to me as I learned about who you are at your core.

Your sacrifice to sign a recruit in your condition went beyond the norm; it was about 'them', not 'you' Them being the people you were sacrificing for at the University of Tennessee who believed in you, who gave you the opportunity of your lifetime

Fighting for those who entrusted in you to do anything and everything you could to not only win championships but most importantly to influence lives — young and old — family, players, fans, friends, administration, colleagues, former coaches and teammates.

The legacy you built from the ground up was coming into play in my own living room as you chose to grind through the pains of labor and make a trip against the doctor's better judgment.

I was beginning to embark upon a journey in which I would come under the incredible influence of a classy, strong-willed woman in my life.

I soon learned this when I stepped foot on campus, in your office, on your court, into your world.

"Who is this woman?" continually crossed my mind after spending more time with you.

This woman is a fighter.

She's a competitor.

She doesn't accept mediocrity.

She's never satisfied.

I've never met anyone like her.

In her eyes, there was always more.

More perfection.

I didn't think I could ever get it right.

You made every day the greatest challenge of my life.

You made me start over each day.

Perfecting yesterday.

Never looking for tomorrow.

Taking care of today.

Repeating patterns of near perfection.

Just when I thought I was close to receiving your compliment.

You said do it again.

This time do it better.

"Who is this woman?" I thought over and over again.

So surprising to me was what came next.

In so many frustrating tears and sanity checks.

As I was experiencing growing pains like never before.

Searching for my own connection to perfection.

Trying to please you and feeling as if I was failing miserably at every turn.

What I received time and time again when I was at my absolute breaking point.

Was not a compliment from you.

Rather, you hugged my neck.

You cared.

You spent endless hours with me, teaching me.

You showed me you loved me through the time you spent with me.

You said to me, "You'll understand why I am doing this one day."

There's a bigger picture.

Hang in there.

I am pushing you because you can take it.

Because I believe in you.

Because I know you have what it takes.

You said, "Trust me."

I will not allow you to fail under my watch.

You said, I need for you to be tougher.

In my weaker moments, I asked you to ease up on me.

You said, stop your crying.

I cried harder.

I said, I don't think I can do this anymore.

You said, Yes you can, we're getting there.

You said, "Trust me." There's a reason for this.

In my own kicking and fighting in trying to understand what you were attempting to get out of me.

I was always listening. You had my attention.

You kept saying it will be worth it. I need for you to get through this with me.

"Who is this woman?" How did she command such a presence in my soul from the very moment we met, a presence that only intensified over the following months and years?

All the while, teaching me the greatest lessons of my life:

It wasn't about me.

It was about my teammates.

It was about the Tennessee program.

It was about others.

It was about showing up and bringing your best every single day.

Learning more.

Here comes the full circle.

You come into the Tennessee program as a superstar

And you leave as a champion, not just on the basketball court but in life

What a powerful revelation and feeling to understand the tremendous difference between the two.

You didn't just make us better; you made us the best at who we were trying to become.

You were not only being tough; you were teaching toughness.

You never did anything for your own glory; you worked your magic through selfless acts of kindness.

You didn't raise your voice just for the sake of it; you increased your tone to demand excellence.

You didn't rush any process, you taught patience and urgency through a painstaking refining regimen.

Not only were you a perfectionist; you were a master at sculpting your masterpiece.

For a woman who has accomplished what you have in basketball, you had every right to display arrogance; instead you displayed the most precious humility.

Together, we won. And won it all. Accomplishments we've all celebrated through all the days of our lives.

What I learned, though, is the one thing I carry with me as I remember you telling me that "I will understand one day."

Here it is:

Life is not about accomplishments, wins or losses; it's about investing in people and relationships.

The greatest reward in life is a result of sacrificing yourself for another human being in order to help them become their best.

I now see the bigger picture

Pat, you've sacrificed for us all and now it's our turn to pay it forward.

You fought the battle that allowed the game of basketball to be what it is today.

You fought the battle to create opportunities for us and you taught us how to win.

And you courageously fought the battle of Alzheimer's and publicly put a face to this dreadful disease so that the world will join us in the fight to find a cure.

Pat, we are so much better because of you. We do see who you were and from this day forward we will band together and tuck you in and carry you with us in our souls, forever.

For Gough Whitlam: 'He was an enhancer, an enlarger', by Malcolm Turnbull - 2014

21 October 2014, Canberra, Australia

I am very pleased and very honoured to associate myself with all of these fine speeches today remembering my good friend and constituent Gough Whitlam. Gough Whitlam was always at pains to remind me that he was my constituent, addressing me generally loudly and at a distance as 'My Member, My Member', just to make it quite clear that I had certain obligations to him.

We are here also to extend our condolences to Tony, Nick, Stephen and Catherine and their families. It is a time of great sadness for the Whitlam family and for Gough's friends but it should also be a time of joy. Gough lived to a great age and he had a great life. He was a big man with a big vision for a big country. He was an optimist. He was funny. He was witty. He always said, 'Don't say I'm funny; say I'm witty.' Well, he was witty and funny. In all of that we should celebrate his life.

We know Gough Whitlam's government was not unmarked by error. It was a controversial time and I will say a little bit about the influence of that on the Labor Party in a moment. We have to remember that the economic arguments of those days have largely receded into history. The truth is that nobody on our side or on the Labor side would agree with Gough's economic agenda. We would not agree with Billy McMahon's economic agenda. Life has moved on, but what is remembered is the myth of Gough or, as Gough would say, 'the mythos of Gough'. What is that thread, that narrative that emerges from history out of the humdrum daily grind of political argument? What is it? It is an enormous optimism and all of us admire that, whether we voted for him in the seventies or our parents voted for him, or whether we approved of what John Kerr did or not, all of that recedes. What people remember of Gough Whitlam is a bigness, generosity, an enormous optimism and ambition for Australia. That is something we can all subscribe to.

As many speakers have said, Gough was a great parliamentarian. He loved this place—not this chamber so much as the one he served in. He loved this parliament but he was also an active citizen. He did not just make his political contribution while he was a member of parliament; he continued to make a contribution to Australian politics and to public affairs and to cultural debate throughout his entire life. He left the office of Prime Minister nearly 40 years ago, yet he has been an active voice in the Australian public debate ever since. He was, as the member for Watson and the member for Sydney recalled, very active in the Republican Movement, in the campaign for Australia to have one of its own as its head of state. I remember recruiting Malcolm Fraser and Gough Whitlam to come onto the same platform and speak in favour of the yes vote in the referendum. I thought I would share with honourable members my recollection from my account of that time. I rang Gough on 8 July 1999 and I noted:

I spoke to Gough Whitlam today, or rather he spoke to me, for about 40 minutes. He is happy to speak for a yes vote and with Malcolm Fraser. Gough said, 'Malcolm, I'm tired of these professors, no, associate professors of Constitutional law theorising about constitutional crises. I know about constitutional crises.'

Interestingly one of the features of the republican model in that referendum campaign, as some members may recall, was that, while the President would be appointed by a joint sitting of both houses of parliament in a bipartisan vote, the President could be removed by the Prime Minister, but the President could not be replaced by the Prime Minister. The senior state Governor would fill that place and then there would have to be a bipartisan appointment of a new President. Both Whitlam and Fraser were of the view that, if that arrangement had been in place in 1975, Kerr would not have sacked Whitlam because both of them were of the view—Malcolm Fraser especially and perhaps with more insight—that the reason Kerr had sacked Whitlam was to pre-empt Whitlam sacking him—an interesting footnote to that history.

Gough was remarkably generous to everyone he dealt with. As the Prime Minister said, he was a very hard man to disagree with and an almost impossible man to dislike. He was full of arcane knowledge; the Prime Minister referred to his knowledge of ecclesiastical matters, and he had an extraordinary interest in genealogy—almost anybody's genealogy. If he learned one thing about your family—a third cousin or an aunt or a great-aunt—he would remember it and then remind you of it. He was very, very well informed about this. I saw this in action in 1986, when I called him as a witness in the Spycatcher trial to give evidence on behalf of my client, Peter Wright. I was hoping that Gough would be indignant about the evidence we had produced that the British security service, MI5, had been—without any legal authority at all—bugging all sorts of people in Britain, including Patricia Hewitt, who had been the secretary of the National Council for Civil Liberties and was at that time Neil Kinnock's private secretary. She went on, of course, to become a cabinet minister and so forth. I tendered some evidence about this, and Gough immediately lit on Patricia Hewitt's name. He said, 'I know this one—Mr Kinnock's private secretary. I've known her all her life. I went to school with her mother. I've known her mother since I went to school with her in 1930. I've known her father since they were married in 1941. I've known her and her sisters and her brother her whole life.' He went on, and so I said, 'Do you regard her as a person likely to be plotting the violent overthrow of the British government?' Gough said, 'No. I've never felt myself at risk in her company.'

There has been a lot of discussion about Gough's regard for the great beyond. Gough is resolving his relationship with God as we speak, no doubt, but he was always very entertaining about those issues of the divine. I remember 25 years ago, when I was in business with his son Nicholas. Nicholas and Judy brought Gough and Margaret up to visit us at the farm in the Hunter Valley that I had inherited from my father some years before. Unfortunately, a fog had descended on this particular part of the country and you could not see anything. It was just white everywhere you looked; it was like being in a white cloud. I said to Gough, 'I'm really sorry. It's a nice view here but you can't see any of it.' He said, 'Oh, don't be concerned. I'm at completely at home. It's just like Olympus.'

We recognise that all prime ministers capture the attention of the Australian people. Not all prime ministers capture their imagination, and even fewer capture their imagination and retain it for so long. Gough Whitlam was able to do that because of his presence and his eloquence but, above all, because of that generosity of vision I spoke about earlier. He was an enhancer, an enlarger. He was not a mean or negative politician in the way, for example, that another great Labor leader, who also lived to a similar age, Jack Lang, was. Jack Lang was a great hater. Gough Whitlam is a great example to us. He obviously never forgave John Kerr, but look at the way he was able to be reconciled with Malcolm Fraser. That is a great example to all of us. We can learn from Gough Whitlam about the importance of optimism and the importance of having a big vision for our country. I might add that it is important to execute that vision with competence; but, nonetheless, think about the way he did not allow hatred to eat away at him. The reality is that hatred, as we know, destroys and corrodes the hater much more than it hurts the hated, and so many people in our business, in politics, find themselves consumed by hatred and retire into a bitter anecdotage, gnawing away at all of the injustices and betrayals they have suffered through their life. Whitlam was able to rise above that, as we saw in his cooperation and work with Malcolm Fraser on many causes—not just the republic. I recall at one point I was on the opposite side when they were busily campaigning to stop a group I was part of to acquire Fairfax. They had many unity tickets on different matters. Nonetheless, it is a great example for all of us not to be consumed by hatred.

Gough will never be forgotten. He will be given credit, I imagine, for many things that were equally or perhaps even entirely the achievements of others. I heard earlier that Gough Whitlam had ended the White Australia policy. I could just hear Harold Holt turning in his watery grave to hear that! Nonetheless, he was there at a tipping point, a fulcrum point, in our history, and he was able to embody and personify a time of change. By capturing our imagination with such optimism, he will always be a symbol of the greatness, the importance, the value of public life—an example to all of us. We can leave the political agenda to one side, we can leave the debate about his measures to one side and just remember that big, generous, witty, warm man—that giant—and, above all, we must remember that nearly 70 years of marriage, that extraordinary love affair. If Gough is in Olympus, I have no doubt that he is there with Margaret. I think that, in some respects, one of the things we can be happiest about today is the fact that that old couple are no longer apart.

For Rocky Johnson: 'I'll see you down the road, soul man.', by Dwayne 'The Rock' Johnson - 2020

21 January 2020, Los Angeles, California

I... God... man, I wish had... I wish I had one more shot. Yeah, I wish I had one more shot. Just to... say goodbye. Say I love you. Say thank you, respect you. But I have a feeling he's watching. He's listening. I know my dad would be saying, "Kay Fabe the tears."

Thank you guys. Thank you. Thank everyone for coming, and being so generous with your time, and being so caring, and kind with your condolences to me and my family. We thank you. Thank you to everyone who came up here and really gave beautiful tributes to my dad, to our dad.

You try and you think about, "Well, what am I going to write?" And this is, you don't know what to write for a eulogy, it's your dad. You don't expect it. As you guys know, he went very quick. I was on my way to work the other day on January 15th, and I was just pulling into work, and we were shooting that day, and it was the very first day of production. And then I get a call from my wife, Lauren, who said, "Hey, I just spoke to Cora, seems like something's going on with your dad." And Lauren was with our... she was with our babies, she was with my mom. And she said, "I really can't talk." She goes, "I think you should call Cora though." So of course I called Cora. Cora, she broke the news to me, and right when she broke the news, I just literally, just pulling in, I'm looking at, the whole crew, hundreds of guys and women milling around, and carrying equipment and waving at me in the truck, and waving back. And it all got really foggy. And it seemed like it was just a big dream.

You know how you have those moments and you try and shake yourself out of it. You're like, "No, it's not a dream. My dad's gone." And in that moment I just thought, "Well, what do I need to do? What's the next thing that I need to do?" And I heard a voice say, "Well, hey, the show must go on." And that was my dad. That was my old man who told me that.

Rocky Johnson, the tremendous athlete. Man, just in fantastic condition.

You know, the wrestling community is a very tight community. It's a global business, but it's a very, very tight community. And they believe in, "The show must go one." This idea about, "The show must go on", it just reminded me of what my dad was, and what he represented to our business, and to our wrestling business, and something that we're all very proud of, because many of us are in this wrestling business, and it is in your blood, and once it's in your blood, it never goes away.

The phrase of trailblazer is connected to my dad's name. It means when you do things that have never been done. Our uncles, who were so proud of Afa and Sika, you guys are trailblazers. Never been done. From the isle of Samoa, the Wild Samoans. Your grandfather Peter Maivia, trailblazer. Never been done. Hulk Hogan, trailblazer. Never been done.

My dad, Rocky Johnson, trailblazer, never been done. When you do things that have never been done, but impactful things, and things that actually move the needle in an industry, and he did that, this man did that. The other side to it that I wanted to point out, that I thought it was important to say is that when somebody's a trailblazer, that means that they've actually... they have the ability to change behaviour, an audience's behaviour, people's behaviour. And for my dad, when he broke into the business in the mid-60s, and throughout the late 60s, and into the 70s, in the United States where racial tension and divide was very strong, and in the 60s in the 70s, you have a black man coming in. It's an all white audience.

Now all these small little towns that eventually I would go on to wrestle in, but at that time, he changed the audience behaviour, and actually had them cheer for this black man.

And not when he was wrestling against other black men, because he was usually the only black guy in the territory. He was wrestling against other white wrestlers, and I thought that was really unique, and I thought that was really powerful, and I thought that it deserved to be said, and that's what this man did. We celebrated, and we gave honour to Dr. Martin Luther King yesterday, and I woke up this morning, and my heart of course is heavy, but there was a lightness to it that I thought, "Wow, it's very appropriate, because my dad fought for racial equality at a time where it was needed."

Dr. Martin Luther King would be very proud of my dad. When you think of my dad's name, you think hard work, you think barrier breaking. You think being the hardest worker in the room, always working out, taught me how to workout at a very young age. Hard work, discipline. Those are things, and tenants that are synonymous with my dad's name.

What's amazing to me now, after a day like today, after we come here and we give our respects and our love, he's galvanised. He's responsible for galvanising families now, and families coming together just a bit closer. Because through processes like this, and we all go through this, we all go through this. We've all lost loved ones, but guaranteed, when we walk out of these doors, we're going to hold each other a bit tighter. We're going to hug each other a bit harder, we're going to kiss each other. We're going to say, "I love you", and we're going to be a little bit more present. And I think that's the beautiful irony about my dad, and all the things that his name is synonymous with, all over the years.

Now, his name is synonymous with the power of love, and bringing people together. It's very appropriate for the soul man, I wish your soul at rest and at ease. There's no more pain. No more regret. I'm sorry, just give me a second. Thank you for bearing with me. Just give me a second. I'm so happy he had friends, a place like this that he could come to, and all of you who have been in his life, and all of you who have said really wonderful things. All the messages that you've sent me. He would be very happy at this. It would make his heart full. This isn't goodbye, this is just, I'll see you down the road. We'll see down the road. I thank you guys so much for your time, and your love. I love you all. I thank you. We love you all, my family. Thank you guys very much. And I'll see you down the road, soul man.