AFRICAN INDABA

7     Obituary: Dr Lucas Potgieter

Peter Flack

Like many hundreds of hunters and firearms enthusiasts, I met Dr. Lucas Potgieter, or Doc or Lucas as many of us called him, across a glass counter at the Powder Keg in Melville, Johannesburg. Even back then, some 30 years ago, I knew of and was in awe, even intimidated, by this “Boer en sy roer” man and the huge reputation he had in hunting and firearm circles. He was the first to write a regular monthly column on hunting and firearms in the country, something he started in 1972 and was still busy writing on the day he died.

The reputation was well deserved but there was no need to be intimidated. Clad in his ubiquitous khaki pants and jersey, this soft spoken, thoughtful, courteous and considerate man answered my mundane questions – questions he must have answered a thousand times before – in what I came to realise was his usual thorough, friendly and patient manner.

You could not help but confide in Lucas and turn to him for advice on things other than narrow hunting and firearm issues. Lucas was an encourager, slow to judge and quick to praise. It was to him I took my early photograph albums with captions and commentaries and which he helped turn into my first articles. It was to him I took my first amateur attempts at hunting films and which, with subtle hints and helpful advice, he encouraged me to push beyond what I had first envisaged. And I was but one of many. Quite simply, he was a fountain of knowledge where many came to drink.

Earlier this year I received a call from his wife, Wendie, to say that Lucas was becoming forgetful and, on one of my trips to Johannesburg, I detoured to the Powder Keg for a cup of tea. He seemed exactly the same as usual. How was he? Fine. Wonderful. He picked up our conversation as if I had seen him the day before. As usual, he wanted to know all about me and, as we swapped questions and answers, he suddenly stopped speaking. He could not find the next word he wanted to say.

For an erudite, articulate wordsmith like Lucas, the former head of a major advertising agency (and the first ever to hold a Ph.D.), writer of hundreds of eagerly read articles and numerous entertaining and thought provoking books, to battle to find the correct word, let alone the next one, must have been the height of frustration and, even then, he did not allow any sign of this to flow over into our conversation. In fact, he tried hard to and took pride in hiding his ailment from others.

Lucas was a friend. Not a friend that you had to visit or talk to every day, week, month or year for that matter. And he allowed you to pick up or put down that friendship, from time to time, without query or complaint. He was a confident, well rounded man secure in the knowledge of who and what he was. His “more en aand praaitjies” were always the same. He was a rock of consistency, something which I and many, many others found comforting and re-assuring. He was a permanent fixture in our lives, always there, ever present. And now, in the blink of an eye, he is gone. If Lucas was your friend, he was your friend through thick and thin and I speak from first hand experience. When, in my innocence, I was caught in the political crossfire of nasty, ambitious men in a hunting association, it was Lucas who stood by me with sound advice and support. Having been the former president of the biggest amateur hunting body in the country, Lucas understood how these things worked.

And while Lucas was not only a gentle man but a gentleman, it did not mean that he was weak or a toady. Quite the contrary. I remember him standing up at the AGM of the selfsame hunting association and speaking his mind in a clear, forthright and polite manner about what he perceived to be the rights and wrongs of a particular matter. Lucas was “’n man wat sy man kon staan”. And right and wrongs were as important to him in his every day life as they were when it came to hunting. He had the clearest views of what constituted ethical and unethical hunting and practised and taught what he preached, including to his family and, as recently as three years ago, he accompanied Wendie on her first, walk and stalk buffalo hunt in Zimbabwe.

Lucas was a man of many, many talents. He was a husband, father, friend, successful businessman and writer. Most importantly, to the thousands of us hunters and firearms enthusiasts who he befriended, he was the most knowledgeable, tried and trusted source of impeccable advice in those spheres that this country has ever produced. I know that I speak for thousands of us when I say that our sincere sympathies are with Wendie and his children. My mother would often say that, “You never miss the water ’til the well runs dry”. We are all going to discover in the times ahead how much he has meant to each one of us and how much we are going to miss him. Rest in peace, Lucas, you leave behind a rich legacy in each one of us that no-one alive today will ever be able to replace or duplicate.

As a postscript, Wendie has asked me to mention that Doc’s beloved Powder Keg will continue, as it has done for the last five years, with her at the helm.