Memories of Lang

The Hancock family is in the news again, mostly Gina, but it has reminded me of the two times in which Gina’s father Lang Hancock and I crossed paths … although he didn’t realise it on either occasion.

The first occurred one day many years ago when I was stopped at the lights at Christchurch on Stirling Highway. It was a throbbing mid-summer’s day, the temperature in the mid-40s. I used to drive a 1969 model VW Beetle in those days, and it had no air-conditioning. As I waited for the lights to turn green, I glanced casually around and saw that the car next to me was a huge silver Rolls Royce, a uniformed chauffeur at the wheel. Sitting in the back was the instantly-recognisable figure of mining magnate and billionaire Lang Hancock. He was wrapped in a heavy blanket to keep the chill of the Rolls’ air-conditioning at bay, and was smoking a large cigar. I remember thinking that this vision  epitomised wealth.

But I did see another example. My brother was a member of the Kings…