Some friendships begin in childhood and never quite leave us, even when life carries us far away. Tim was one of those friends.
As a classmate at both Frodingham Infants and Brumby Junior Schools, Tim was one of those people whose kindness stayed with you. His childhood home on the Queensway was only a few hundred metres from mine, and I was always welcomed there. His family were tall — wonderfully tall — and in the 1960s they often travelled everywhere on tandem bicycles.
One afternoon, as I waited at the bus stop on Oswald Road just around the corner from High Street, Tim’s dad pulled up beside me on one of the tandems and said, “Hop on, William.” I could barely reach the pedals, but that didn’t matter. That was the sort of family they were: generous, open, and full of good humour.
Decades later, in Brigg in May 2007, Tim and I recognised each other instantly. Sadly, it was the last time I saw him. He was running a market stall, passionately promoting fostering with the same sincerity he’d shown as a boy. That meeting stayed with me. Three years later, my wife and I fostered two young sisters and later adopted them. Tim’s influence travelled half a world away to Sydney, Australia and into the lives of our daughters. I will always be grateful for it.
I still live in Sydney, as I did when we met in 2007, and I have often thought about Tim. I will forever remember him with gratitude. He was a good friend in childhood and a quiet inspiration in adulthood. His kindness travelled far further than he ever knew. Thank you, Tim.
William Maxwell
05/07/2026
