In his own words Greg Brownless is just "an ordinary guy". But this former Tauranga city councillor, teacher, actor, funeral director and philanthropist can teach us all something about the power of one and the true meaning of giving.
Greg Brownless does not want to come across as a "big noter" or "trumpet blower"in this profile.
Well, the second part is easy. Quite frankly, Brownless is anything but a skite.
But I do wonder how many ordinary men out there would do what Brownless has done.
So whether he likes it or not, I believe he's a big noter. Let me take you back to 2007.
In front of an invited audience of 400, Brownless announces he has handed over the ownership of his funeral business to a new company called Legacy Funerals - the commercial arm of Legacy Funeral Trust.
The business has two funeral homes - Woodhill in Otumoetai and Tauranga Park in upper Pyes Pa.
The $1.2 million valuation does not include the land and the buildings, and Brownless will draw rental income until his death when the properties will be gifted to the Acorn Foundation, a charity set up in 2003 to administer endowment funds, which people leave in their wills.
The business injects annually about about $200,000 into Tauranga community projects and charitable organisations. That figure is expected to rise over the next year or so as the trust is able to pull back on publicity costs.
I say to Brownless, a lot of people give to charity and lot of people give large amounts but few, I would think, would gift their business. So that's a little bit exceptional?
"Yeah, probably," he agrees somewhat reluctantly. "But, if I want to be thought about, it's as an ordinary guy who has a bit of a character and didn't have a family and decided his way of giving back is to give his business. That's the way I look at it. I'm not poor, I'm not rich, I'm middle of the road."
Brownless adds it wasn't a spur-of-the-moment decision either.
The 54-year-old spent a good two years mulling over whether to hand over Woodhill and Tauranga Park - he's not very decisive, he says - but there was one thing that kick-started the thought. An epiphany that came while staring death straight in the eye in Thailand.
Brownless, a funeral director since 33, went to Thailand twice in the aftermath of the 2004 Boxing Day tsunami.
In that time, he embalmed and sent home "hundreds" of bodies. "It's all very well to say appreciate life and live it every day, right?
"When we're here we tend not to think about it, it's just something we say quite glibly in a way," he says. "When you're involved in quite a big disaster and see the effects of it, physical effects, you realise that is quite true and there's a lot more to life than just having possessions and being the biggest this or biggest that."
Brownless decided he wanted to contribute to his community. "I think that was my defining moment - seeing the devastation," he reports. "What was particularly difficult and heart-wrenching is there was children ... they didn't get much of a chance in life."
Brownless has a girlfriend of two years, Li-Jong, but doesn't have children of his own. No pets either. Although, he once had a budgie.
Giving over his livelihood is not something he's ever regretted.
"Being a funeral director day-to-day, every day of the week, all hours of the day and night ..."
Takes it's toll on you? I offer. "Yes, I think it does. This allows me a relative freedom. If people ask me to do a talk (which he does a lot) I'm more able to do that now. If there's an opportunity to go somewhere then I generally am able to do it."
Brownless, who used to be an English and geography teacher at Tauranga Boys' College, has lived a varied and busy life.
While he no longer works day-to-day as an embalmer and funeral director, he does on occasion get called on by Kenyon International, an international emergency management company.
His latest stint was at Christmas Island, when on December 15 last year a wooden boat packed with asylum seekers smashed against jagged rocks in a storm, flinging terrified occupants into churning waters and killing at least 30 people. Christmas Island residents on a cliff above watched in horror as the boat - carrying about 70 people - broke apart with a crack, dumping men, women and children into monstrous waves that pounded them against the rocks.
Brownless was appointed mortuary operations manager and was responsible for the paperwork and sourcing whatever the foreign helpers might need.
"As you can imagine on an island like that, there's no Mitre 10. Finding stuff you needed was quite an effort," Brownless laments.
This is especially the case when there's a crab migration going on.
At peak times drivers need to take a broom and gently sweep the critters out of the way.
I tell Brownless that I suspect working in the business of death has made him more empathetic and sensitive?
"Yes," he says. "But also a person that thinks 'okay, something terrible has happened, but eventually you must get to that stage of moving on and living the rest of your life'.
"It takes a long time to sort of heal but eventually life does get better."
Brownless is perhaps best known to many in Tauranga as a chameleon.
He took to community theatre when he moved here as a way of getting to know people and for a while found himself in two plays every year.
No matter how many times he steps on the stage, the nerves creep in.
"Every time I do a show, I'm always worried I'm going to forget the words."
Even now?
"Yip, all the time ... despite appearing confident I'm often quite nervous."
And the two people that make his legs really shake are his mum and dad, Margaret, 86, and Gordon, 90.
Brownless has performed in 30 Tauranga plays, including musicals, although he informs me he's a "very average" singer.
"In the early days I went in some crazy plays. One I've done twice, Noises Off, I played the young guy and then they re-did it a few years ago and they said 'sorry Greg, you're not the same age anymore' and I had to play the 75-year-old burglar.
"Previously I'd played the 30-year-old man about town. It was heart-breaking."
"One of the most crazy ones," he says, now on a roll, "was a musical version of Jack the Ripper.
"I was one of the bother boys, the heavies, and one of the guys in my gang was huge and in those days I was a tiny, skinny weed of a guy and I was supposed to be his gang boss."
"I really like community theatre. It isn't always perfect but it's about people having a go," he says.
Having a go is what he's done. Brownless has tried his hand at everything.
From a Contiki tour guide in Europe, to Tauranga City councillor and a candidate for the National Party. He lost the selection to present MP Simon Bridges.
"I think anything like that is disappointing at the time," Brownless reflects. "I thought it was an opportunity and something I would have been interested in, but in the end the way it's panned out has been very good for me.
"I've got this freedom to do what I want and I think probably in wisdom of hindsight they probably made the right choice."
With freedom away from work, he can put more time into public speaking.
Last year, Brownless was invited by the Canadian Funeral Directors Association as their keynote speaker in Montreal.
"I felt really chuffed to do that. I don't charge [for talks]. My income comes from somewhere else. I [say] 'I can't come and help you build something, I'm hopeless. I'm not a good demolition man, but what I can do is come and talk to your group and entertain them, and that's my contribution'."
He'll also play the accordion, if you ask nicely.
He's good at it - a former national champion, but he won't tell you that.
Just when I think Brownless couldn't possibly be any nicer, he tells me about the Thai orphanage he convinced his pals at Tauranga Sunrise Rotary to support. Together they give about $3000 a year.
There's also the mention that the Legacy Trust helps out local secondary schools by giving scholarships or money towards school productions.
Brownless is almost too good to be true. I ask him to surprise me with some quirky things about himself but he tells me he's a "bit of an open book."
He's done a lot of travel and wants to do more, he's a big fan of opera "not Oprah Winfrey either".
He likes to go tramping, attend charity quizzes, read non-fiction.
"I'm trying to think of something a bit quirky. People think of me as a bit quirky sometimes. Perhaps I've got a bit more boring as life's gone on?"
Surely he must have at least one skeleton in the closest?
"That's a funny question to ask a funeral director," he says. "I don't. I really don't."
Long-time friend and lawyer Bill Holland says in lots of ways Brownless is "absolutely an ordinary guy and that's what probably makes it better.
"He's the last to claim he's extraordinary and he's not extraordinary but he is extremely generous. You don't have to be someone special to do something special".
Close friend and Bay of Plenty Times journalist Graham Skellern says Greg can be exasperating.
"He's so enigmatic. He's private, honourable and strong-willed but publicly he's so out there - as an actor and in helping others.
"He's always selling tickets to plays and shows at the Rotary Club and he's not averse to playing the odd game of bowls."
Skellern says Brownless will be known as one of the city's leading philanthropists.
"Two years before, he told me he was planning to give his funeral directing business to the city. I didn't believe him until he did it ... I just thought it was another of Greg's ideas.
"He gave up local politics because he was embarrassed by the in-fighting of the council and he knew it was time to step down and concentrate on other interests, including travel."
Philanthropist, though, is not something Brownless sees himself as.
"No, not really. Philanthropist, I always associate with someone that's super rich," he says.
"If you give money to a door-to-door collections, you could be seen as a philanthropist."
Does he like to think he has made an impact?
"Yeah, that would be nice. There's a lot of worthwhile groups in any town. In Tauranga you've got the Bay Trust and TECT, but there's always more work to be done to make life better for everyone."
As we end our interview at a local cafe, Brownless announces that if I don't have an expense account, he'll pay for the hot chocolate and flat white.
I decline the offer.
Really, I think this "ordinary" man has been kind enough.
On the Record: Greg Brownless
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