“People would come into the shop and you’d ask them what they wanted and they would say, ‘Ron knows what size my son wears’ or ‘what size my husband wears’ and we’d go and ask him and he knew straight away.

He knew his customers. You don’t get that anywhere else… It wasn’t just older people though, even kids would come in after school just to see him.

Ron was the man.

Sometimes he would have four customers waiting and they would wait just to see him.”

Leanne also fondly recalled his sense of humour, which often saw him gallivanting around the store in a blonde wig.

He had a passion for fashion and humanity.

There were few things he loved more than a good old fashioned chin wag and it wasn’t unusual for him to go MIA in the middle of the day, sometimes taking two or three hours to go to the bank because he would stop and talk to too many people.

While Ronny was integral part of the community and a friend to many, he was, foremost, a family man and his wife and children were the most important people in his life.

Ronny and Helen married 24 years ago and always had a loving relationship. Helen says her husband was one of the funniest men she had ever met and fondly remembers his charm and wicked sense of humour.

He often bought her “thoughtful gifts” that would bring a smile to her face - some of the best included an iron and a doormat.

“We shared many jokes and there are too many funny stories,” she said.

“He came home one day wearing his blonde wig and he told me he looked like Bon Jovi and I told him, ‘In your dreams baby, in your dreams’.”

Helen said Ronny was never much of a handyman and that at home it was much the same as his relationship with his employees at the shop – she was the manager and he was the PR man.

His Mercedes and Harley Davidson were his two most prized possessions and spent countless hours keeping them in pristine condition.

“He loved his cars. We never had a screwdriver in the house but we had a garage full of car products,” Helen laughed. Ronny was an extremely supportive father.

His daughter Georgina was a daddy’s girl and followed very much in his footsteps. She worked at the store and could make even the toughest of sales, often selling the master salesman himself.

Helen joked she would bring home more clothes than she sold and that the word “Daddy...” was usually followed by Ronny saying “Oh, alright then”.

Ronny also had a close relationship with his son Nicholas, who always saw him as a mentor.

“He was just the best dad. I couldn’t have asked for a better dad,” Nicholas said.

“He was very kind and caring and always looked after me and Georgina. He would never question to help us and we never wanted for anything. If I was ever struggling with anything he was always the first one I would go to for advice. He was a family man and he always had time for us.”

They were both also diehard St George supporters, as was Ronny’s mother, and the footy was a common talking point. Ronny was a Goulburn boy through and through.

He was a keen sportsman and hockey had always been somewhat of a passion.

He first picked up a Hockey stick at age six and never looked back.

He represented NSW in the Under 16s and later the Goulburn veterans at the state championships and the ACT at the Australian Veterans Championship. Ken Briggs coached Ronny as a junior when he played for North Goulburn Hockey Club and said he was always a good player.

“He came from a strong hockey family, his father and uncles had all been good players in their day,” Ken said. “He was a keen and enthusiastic player who achieved a high standard.

He was well respected and made many friends. He will be greatly missed by the entire hockey community.”

Ronny was a big supporter of the sport in both Goulburn and the ACT and took a keen interest in emerging young talents.

About five years ago, Ronny became involved with the Highland Riders Motorcycle Club and after two years of associating with them he was invited to become a member.

Ronny was drawn to the diversity of the group, which consisted of people of just about every walk of life, and the fact that there were no airs and graces with them. Fellow Highland Rider and close friend Jason Perry said Ronny was loved by everybody in the club because of his kindness, honesty and the fact that he was such a genuine bloke.

What you saw was what you got, which often led to amusing situations.

One that sprang to mind happened on a trip to the snowy mountains at the end of last year.

After riding in the pouring rain for hours the group sought refuge at the Adaminaby Pub, wet, cold, dishevelled and looking rough.

“So we walk into the pub, wearing all of our bikie clothes and all of the locals were just silent and looking at us, they were all taken back by us, and we got to the bar and I ordered a beer and the next bloke ordered a beer and the next one ordered a beer. And then, in comes Ronny and he looks up at the board and he says ‘I’ll have skinny latte and a sticky date pudding’,” Jason laughed.

“He was always clean, he was always immaculate, he was always well dressed and well spoken and you wouldn’t think that would fit in too well with us blokes, being a bunch of bikies, but I think we all took something from him. He brought culture to our club. He didn’t change himself to come into our club, he changed us by coming into our club. We used to have bike meetings and he could only ever see the good in everyone.”

Jason said he would be greatly missed by all of the blokes at the club.

Ronny’s funeral will be held at St Saviour’s Cathedral on Friday at 1pm.

Fol low @TomSebo1