The news just came through on the TV.
Steve Irwin, one of Australia's most loved (and most controversial) icons has just died. He was 44.
His death came while filming a documentary near Port Douglas, Queensland, when he was struck in the chest by the venomous barbs of a stingray. It is presumed he was killed instantly.
Like him or loathe him and his outlandish behaviour, and I must admit that I fall into the latter category, he was a great Australian. He never forgot who he was, or where he came from, in spite of his rise to international stardom. His original slant on animal documentaries, as well as his plight for animal conservation through The Steve Irwin Conservation Foundation, as well as the International Crocodile Rescue showed that his heart was always in the right place.
From humble beginnings at his father's zoo on the Sunshine Coast, Irwin expanded the empire, partly due to his larger-than-life, excitable persona, and partly because of his immense knowledge, skill and experience with native and introduced flora and fauna. He is easily one of Australia's most well-known celebrities internationally; in fact, he is just as recognizable in the US as he is locally.
Australian Prime Minister John Howard considered him as a friend, and even invited him to a barbecue in honour of US President George W. Bush in 2003, such is his impact on Australians.
In summary, his antics may have been unconventional, but his heart was always in the right place, especially when it came to animals, Queensland, and most importantly, Australia. For that, we should all envy him.
May he rest in peace.
- Fridge.
