A service to celebrate the life of Colin Guy Treadaway -Hoare
20th October 1923 - 9th February 2019

Friday 1st March 2019 at 3pm

The Round Chapel, Markeaton Crematorium

 

Stephanie's Eulogy

 

‘Damn the Torpedoes, was my Dad’s favourite saying, and it is really how he lived his life.

And what a life it was!

 

Orphan, Airforce Flight Lieutenant, Business Man, Entomologist, Adventurer, Husband and Father – and if you will allow me, I would like to elaborate on these a little:

 

He was an orphan before he was 7 years old and subsequently educated at the Royal Masonic Public School. Aged 16, during the exodus of English children from London at the time of the blitz, he was sent abroad to his guardian in Canada in April 1940. His time with his uncle on a farm was not a happy one, as he was treated as an unpaid farm hand and he finally became so desperate that in September the same year with but 2x Dollars in his pocket he ran away.

I remember clearly him talking about this time and saying that he found himself at a cross road and had to consider his options: find work, any work and work hard – or become a criminal. But my father always rooted for ‘the goodies’ and consciously decided against the latter and joined a road construction gang which paid him $20.00 a week.

 

In 1942 he joined the Royal Canadian Airforce and graduated at the top of his class as Pilot Officer, Navigator. Even though he was offered to be trained as a pilot in the recruitment process, he chose to become a navigator, as he considered it more suitable for his degree ambition after the war. He was assigned to the 427 Squadron as navigator for the squadron leader. He flew bombing and mining trips in the war and was promoted up to Flight Lieutenant. He only really started talking more about his time in the airf orce in the last 3x years when he lived with us in Derby. But then I guess living in Germany did not lend itself to discussing allied air force war stories. My father liked his time in the air force, despite the horrors of war. It provided a feeling of belonging, family, pride, and camaraderie – which were all not plentiful in his life up to then. I am so grateful, that he was able to relive and share that period more fully recently, when he was invited and joined the Aircrew Association meetings in Nottingham – thank you, I know he immensely enjoyed being part of those.

 

After he was discharged from the RCAF in 1946 he entered McGill University to study Chemical Engineering, earned a scholarship and graduated with honours in 1951. It proved an important year for him as he also married Irene, the mother of my brother and sister and it was also the year he started working for Proctor &Gamble, a company he stayed with until his retirement in 1987 and was immensely loyal to and proud of.

 

My father worked for P&G in various different countries, running as well as establishing manufacturing plants. Countries to which in the 50s nobody wanted to live in, or even to travel to; the Philippines, Venezuela, Indonesia, Peru and Morocco. I always loved his stories of travel in the 50’s, where friends were invited for cocktails on the plane and everyone dressed up for the occasion. After drinks the invited guests would disembark, the travellers were seated and off the plane went. What a different world!

 

In 1960 he came to Germany, where he was responsible for creating the manufacturing arm of this new subsidiary. The German subsidiary grew to one of the largest and in 1978 my Dad was appointed Director of the company and was made a member of the board. He worked for P&G Germany until he retired and also remained in Germany until he came to live with us end of 2015., when my mother died.

That he was a successful business man is no question, but he also was a popular one. Amongst the guests for my father’s 80th birthday party where quite a number of people who used to work for him in the various German factories and I found a certificate he was given by one of the factories, which declared him to be an honorary factory pensioner due to his support to the factory, as well as the loyal participation to the annual company parties.

He could be very charming, was always ready to listen and had a kind word for everyone, if cleaner or factory worker.

 

Both my brother and sister were born in the Philippines during the 50s and it was also in the Philippines that my father became actively involved in entomology, focusing specifically on the Philippine butterflies. Even as a little boy, insects had held a special fascination for my father and his collecting spirit became apparent very early on. Whilst living in the Philippines however, where butterflies flutter all around, are full of colour and vary tremendously in size, they became the fascination and passion of his life. And with the same focus, determination and stubbornness, which all family members admired him for and at times despaired at, he decided to study butterflies in his spare time– and never doing anything by halves he did not just acquire knowledge, he added to it. Years later he was known to be the world expert for Philippine butterflies. He was appointed an honorary member of the Senckenberg Research Institute in 1981, was admitted to the Fellowship of the Royal Entomological Society in 1988, and in 2003 honorary staff member of the Malaysian University, Sarawak, North Borneo. As of today, he has discovered and named over 400 butterflies and moths, published over 100 journal articles as well as around 7x books, and his collection (which was vied over by 3x museums; 1x being the British Museum!), is now part of the Senckenberg Museum in Frankfurt. And to his great surprise, delight, honour and pride he was made an honorary doctor of the University of Derby last year, for his significant contribution to butterfly research.

 

However, it was not only the butterflies themselves which fascinated him, it was also the thrill and adventure of acquiring them. As long as I can remember my father went on yearly jungle trips to the Philippines, climbing mountains, camping in the jungle, eating bats, travelling to ‘in the middle of nowhere’ islands inhabited by remote local tribes or guerrilla groups. His stories are legendary amongst his family and friends. My personal favourite was always the one where he fell into a pit dug by a local tribe whilst chasing after a butterfly with his net. He fell into the pit, but had a soft landing, as before him a wild boar had fallen in, and after the boar a boa constrictor snake, who had eaten the boar and was in the midst of its digestion sleep. Dad always said he had no idea how he got out of the pit, the horror of realising that he had landed on a 6 foot snake which was awakening must have given him wings. The commotion brought the tribe, as well as my father’s guides running, and after making sure my father was ok, hefty discussions started between the two groups – it was resolved in the snake being cut open and the boar extracted. The tribe walked away with the snake, and the guides with the boar – both sides happy!

 

My father met my mother Waltraud at P&G and both fell madly in love with each other and married in 1971. They both defied convention at the time and took a risk getting married, as there was a 22 year age gap between them. My father loved my mother dearly and when she passed away through cancer only 69 years old, a little bit of him died with her.

But he thankfully accepted our invitation to live with us back in the UK, some 75 years after he left for Canada. It was a huge change, but again that stubbornness and determination came to the fore. It would have been easy to give up, but in the last three years he made a life for himself here in Derby, and he made friends! With a daily diet of leisurely breakfasts, catching up on world events, and walking Snorker our dog every day in Darley Park, it did not take long for him to know more people in the neighbourhood than us, and he charmed all.

 

My cousins, niece and nephews always saw him as some kind of Indiana Jones. His best friend described him as a mix between Fred Astaire and David Niven. He had a life long appreciation for ice cream, mangoes and westerns.

He was charming, without airs and graces, focussed, determined, grateful, generous, stubborn and a gentleman of old, and although of an era where emotions were not talked about, he was never a cold person.
 

He led his own life and made it what he wanted it to be – he strived, worked for it, made it happen. He managed to combine a successful working career whilst obtaining tremendous knowledge in a scientific field, as well as travelling and having lots of adventures. It has to be said, that at times it was to the detriment of family life, but we are and will always be hugely proud of who he was and what he achieved in his life. Always following the motto DAMN THE TORPEDOES, full speed ahead

 

 

Andrew's Eulogy:

I would like to say a few words on behalf of family members who could not be here today. From my older sister Alexandra who lives in Washington DC, “My father, a dear and brilliant man I have always loved, may you rest in heaven filled with butterflies”.


From Guy his eldest grandson who was named after him and lives in North Carolina. “Grandpops was the foundation of everything. The guide, I love him so very much. He always has been, is and forever shall be the person I most want to be like.”


As for myself my memories of him run deep. In my eyes he was always serious about making the most out of life which I am sure stems from his early difficult life. He was strongly competitive from running in school races competing with fathers half his age! To being able to drive a golf ball the furthest on a putting range in his 80’s…. I still can’t forgive him for showing me up on that one. He was also compassionate and a good listener and his counsel was sought by many.


I always remember some of his sayings to me such as… “A good workman never blames his tools, Andrew” there was never a chance to do a half-hearted job with Dad around. Another was… “If you expect to rate never expectorate” It was his way of making sure I put my best foot forward and tried my best.


When as a teenager about to leave home, I was out jogging and came home to find him running on the spot in his underwear in the bathroom… I thought at first, he had stubbed his toe! But no, he was getting fit in his own time precious way for one of his butterfly expeditions in the Far East.


He was a gentleman of the old school, I never heard him swear when growing up. He would get up if lady came into the room. Offer his seat to older and more infirmed people when on journeys. He was always sincere when shaking anyone's hands. He had a presence about him and always stood out in my eyes.


 I feel that there must be silver linings in every cloud in life, and for my father in this time he will be able to join the woman he loved most, my stepmother Waltraud.


Farewell dad - you will be missed by many.