Scotch College

Vale Garth Tapp (staff 1948–1977)

WORDS: Mr GEOFFREY TOLSON (’39)

Nineteen thirty-nine was the last year at Scotch for two boys; one was 18 and the other 15. The older boy automatically played cricket for MacFarland House firsts, and for reasons never explained, the 15-year-old was picked to play against Littlejohn, which had yet to be defeated.

The youngster went in to bat on the Main, somewhere in the middle order and was stumped second ball for a duck. As he turned to the pavilion he thought ‘this is going to be a very long and lonely walk’, but to his surprise he saw the captain coming out to meet him halfway. The first two words the captain said were ‘stiff cheddar’ and then went on to console this sad and embarrassed junior.

The captain was Garth Tapp and the kid was me, and I would learn over succeeding years that such thoughtfulness, caring and compassion were inherent in the character of this man we honour today. It was for me the beginning of a wonderful friendship.

Garth, who began at Scotch with only one term in the Junior School in 1933, was to become its Headmaster and was, so to speak, the controller of my two sons and also my wife with the Mothers’ Association – I wish he’d told me the secret. But it was 29 years ago when he had retired as Headmaster and become Executive Officer or Secretary of Old Scotch that our friendship truly blossomed. His faithful and trusty Secretary Pat McRae and his solid, hilarious and capable editor of Great Scot, Frank Crawford, formed a formidable partnership.

There is no doubt that Garth’s knowledge, ability and experience were rarely surpassed assets of the School. Things were achieved with a minimum of fuss, even though I would remind him from time to time that he had spent but one term in the Junior School!

I was extremely fortunate to be told some of his ‘one liners’, and if he agreed with you on a topic, one word was enough – ‘indeed’.

I learned he hit Sam Loxton at Wesley for six over Punt Road into the SEC substation, and when he was being interviewed by Mr Selby Smith for the position of Headmaster, that Dr Colin Macdonald was also in the office. The good doctor was an old boy, President of OSCA, father of ‘Gandhi’ and Ken, member of School Council and doyen of the Scotch family.

Garth related: ‘Selby Smith turned to Dr Macdonald and said: “Are there any questions or comments you’d like to make of Mr Tapp?”, to which the doctor replied, “Yes, sir: he has a very good cover drive.” ’ And as Garth said, ‘I got the job!’

In recent months when I called to see him I was always greeted, even though it was with great effort, by ‘Well, I’ll be blessed!’ and invariably we would have a chuckle with a recollection of Frank Crawford tearing shreds off me for another English language gaffe – Garth’s laughter in those days was as good as a tonic.

Apart from his years in the RAAF in WWII Garth spent his entire working life at Scotch, he was the Spirit of the School.

The last time I saw him, we were looking at a photo of the Junior School staff in 1953. All the men were sitting down and the ladies were standing. One of these staff members has related to me recently how brilliant Garth was in his position as Headmaster.

It so happened we went through every person in that photo, an unforgettable experience, and as half an hour had passed, I thought it was time he had a rest. As I closed the book I said ‘I think I’ll be off now. I’ll see you tomorrow’. I turned to the door, but not before he said two words – ‘my staff’. Those were his last words to me. Garth died the next morning.

He was to the end that proud man, not of his outstanding achievements, but those of the people he led. He was still that caring and compassionate man whose friendship I will sadly miss. ‘Indeed’, I have lost the greatest of mates. GS