“At first Keith felt sorry for me, but he was like that: kind, considerate, caring, compassionate, ever an eye out those he could help. OKB at the arse end of Gardiner Street opposite the dole office, me living in Ireland for less than a week, unsure about everything, not just lonely but fearful and desolate, Keith the only person to notice and invite me to join him for a pint after work. We laughed a lot and probably drank more than was good for us but, as on so many occasions during the past four decades, our mutual appreciation of food became our common currency, the medium in which our friendship thrived and flourished. The last time Barbara and I had the pleasure of Keith's company was Bologna in 2019 where we arranged to coincide and, as you'd expect in a city like Bologna, conviviality was king. Near the baroque b&b we rented was Tamburini, a veritable palace of pickled and pressed pork, a sacred mausoleum of mortadella, a salumeria so divinely diverse that years later lesser delis still pale into insignificance; we went there every day, as one might attend mass, to worship even when we weren't hungry. We drove up into Bologna's gentle hills to relax on a self-sufficient farm, went to Parma for lunch and tried our best to eat with as much gusto and style as Italians. Already we miss Keith. Hereafter, whenever we gather to the table, family and friends, to sit and celebrate, we shall endeavour to reserve a seat and to set a place – metaphorical or otherwise – for Keith to join us whenever he wishes.”

“I can’t remember when I first met Keith just that it was many years ago. Somewhere around the 30 year mark. He was the first Kiwi guy I met whom appeared to be more Irish than I. When John Clarke and Keith met up for a glass of wine I counted myself fortunate to be in their company just for the ‘Craic’ as we would call it. I thought of us as the Three Musketeers. John would converse about sport and cooking. And I about the state of the world and other such matters. Keith would quietly listen to all the subjects and berate both of us about our ignorance and come up with a completely original and clever antidote on the subject at hand. Alas I am the last of the Three Musketeers! To me Keith will always be the boy who was clever and curious. He could have written a best-selling novel or produced a great play. He still had so much to give to the world. He loved his family and he was so proud of his boys. Rest in Peace my Honourary Irish Friend. You will always be a part of my life experience.” Bob Ferguson (Gisborne, NZ)

I first met Keith in 1963. I was a Northern Irish Catholic immigrant. Keith was the kiwi son of a Baptist minister. Although I had previously shouted at a few non Catholics in the streets of Northern Ireland I had never before been properly introduced to a non Catholic or had a civilised conversation with one. I was slightly hesitant when we first met up. I needn’t have worried. It was term 2 in the third form at Thames High School when I was introduced to my new class and told to sit next to Keith. We went through the introductory formalities – he was extremely patient because with my broad accent, I’m sure he couldn’t understand the half of what I was saying. However, we seemed to hit it off. By lunchtime we were eating together out on the playing field and by the end of the day we were best mates. That friendship lasted all the way through high school and beyond. He was not only best man at my wedding, he was the best of men.

Keith was my oldest Kiwi friend and always made himself available to catch up on my infrequent visits back to Auckland. He was truly a noble, sensitive and generous human being with the greatest sense of humour - as you well know. We are blessed having known this man. His magic storytelling, advice on literature, empathy and true friendship will live with me always. Love, John and Jan McKenna

In the twenty or so years since we first met, we got to know Keith very well. Well enough to know that we’ve lost more than just a good friend. Keith was always full of brilliantly steal-able tales about life in New Zealand and Ireland, and was ever a source of pithy truths on everything from sport, to politics, and to how to build the best fire (it’s upside down). And with Margaret by his side, we knew that whenever we came to stay, we’d be treated generously to the very best food and wine, rambling late-night conversations, and a fair number of grubby hangovers. We never did finish our debates about which is better - Spain or Italy? But in future, whenever we travel, it’s good to know that Keith will be there in spirit, guiding us to the best restaurants and most authentic drinking holes. Meanwhile, over two decades, it has been a joy to watch Connor and Tiernan growing up to become successful young men, due in good part to having such gentle, wise and encouraging parents. It’s comforting to know that Keith’s spirit lives on in them. Keith took his time leaving us, but because he faced his illness with grace and good humour and shielded us from the worse of things, we were unprepared for his rapid decline. And with COVID keeping us from being at his memorial, these words are written with an aching regret that we’ve missed too many chances to express our love for him and to be of more help to Margaret and the boys. But we also know that Keith would have been embarrassed by such concerns. He lived a good life which has finished surrounded by people who loved him dearly, in Aisling, the grand and glorious home of his and Margaret’s dreams. But we miss him already. David and Jeneal, Devonport, 12th Jan 2023

I only wish I'd got to know him better while I had the chance..

Keith and I worked closely together at INL/Fairfax/Stuff for more than 20 years and over that time he also became a friend to myself, and my parents, particularly after he and Margaret moved to Pt Wells. As newspapers writers, Keith was the best kind of workmate I could ask for. He treated every story, no matter the topic, as important and he gave each one the full benefit of his years of experience. He was an absolute gentleman who could converse with anyone on any topic. Personally, he was more of a mentor to me than he probably ever realised and his kind words of encouragement to me in an email earlier this year are something I'll always treasure. Rest easy Keith and know you'll be remember by many people you worked with.

Láthair uaigneach anseo gan thú Keith. I líonta Dé go gcastar sinn. Paul, Mary-Rose and girls.

Keith, dearly beloved husband and father of my precious sister Margaret and nephews Conor and Tiernan, was a much loved and cherished member of our family, with whom we enjoyed many memorable and treasured times over the years on their visits home to Ireland. We will always remember Keith with much love and heartfelt fondness and his loss from our lives will be keenly felt forever more. Mary-Rose, Paul, Aisling, Kate, Orla and Caoimhe Fenton, Ashford, Co.Wicklow, Ireland. xxx