Well-known Sydney shoeshine man Brian Rudd died last week – for the second time.
The first occasion was in 2013 when he disappeared from his regular pitches inside the Devonshire Street pedestrian tunnel at Central Station, at Martin Place and on the Pitt Street Mall.
Back then, rumours of his death led to huge outpourings of grief on social media for a homeless man everyone knew … until he reappeared, saying he'd merely had a spell in hospital for various illnesses.
He was mightily amused by the kerfuffle and enormously touched that so many people cared.
When he finally died – for real – early on Thursday (January 5) at a residence in Darlinghurst from a number of ailments, including emphysema, no one could quite believe it.
For Brian Rudd, 58, was a well-known figure, at first around the streets of Melbourne, and latterly on the streets of Sydney.
He refused to beg, that was beneath him, he said, but instead liked to shine shoes, talk to his customers, make them laugh and, sometimes, bring them to tears with the story of his life.
It was a particularly tragic one, too. Taken away from his parents three months after his birth and put into care, he was devastated when, at the age of seven, he and his four brothers were split up by the authorities and moved to different children's homes.
"I think they thought if they split us up, we'd be easier to control," he told me, years later. "It's harder to push you around if you're a tight-knit little group. But I never saw my brothers again."
He was moved around many times and, at 12, he tried to take his own life but survived – just – and was transferred to yet another home. Three of those institutions were later to become notorious as places where cruelty to children was routinely practised.
At 17, his plight, and those of some of his fellow ex-wards convinced Melbourne's Father Bob Maguire to set up his charity foundation and devote his life to looking after the homeless and dispossessed.
"He was the first one to turn up on my doorstep," said Father Bob. "But he told me there were plenty worse off, and I should help them. Then he moved to Sydney 18 years ago and, as a very talented public performer, shining shoes to survive, he found his stage.
"He loved it when people showed him respect. He knew he didn't look much, or sound much, but he knew he was much. He was the first graduate from the worst school of hard knocks."
The man who became known as Shoeshine Brian was incredibly street smart, too.
The first time I met him, I paid him for an interview. He asked me for a little more, to pay a bond for a rental house. Ten minutes later he phoned me to ask for some extra, as the bond had just gone up.
Another time, I agreed to give him $50 for an interview and a photo to be taken by my partner. Later, we discovered he'd taken payment from both of us, separately.
But neither of us begrudged him at all.
And even in death, Brian has been making people smile. He'd recently told Father Bob that, when he died, he wanted his ashes sprinkled on the Ganges.
Now the good Father is considering how on earth he might be able to make that happen.
Brian Rudd 1958-2017