Malcolm Mifsud writes:

Is-Sur Karm is no more. That is how Karmenu was always addressed by those who wanted to pull his leg and get him to engage in a funny conversation. The man was more than just laughs and jokes though.

The news of his passing away did not take me by surprise. I used to visit him every now and again when he was admitted to hospital to receive treatment for the terminal illness that was to ultimately end his days.

His demise is not only a loss to his wife, children, their spouses and his grandchildren but to all who were lucky enough to have come across him or, better still, get to know him like I did for more than 30 years, during which I seldom saw a frown on his face. What always surprised me about him was his genuine friendship, wisdom, counsel and honesty, not to mention that he was always so smartly dressed.

He was a very trusted colleague who always stuck to his principles, no matter what.

Ever since I met him for the first time on a cold January day in 1984, my first day at the Advertising Department of Allied Newspapers Limited, Karmenu was there to guide me through my first, unknown steps and we bonded immediately.

We simply took to each other, me to him because he was witty, cheerful and noisy, he to me, as he once told me, because of my short fuse, which he used to describe as riding a horse that bolts all of a sudden and which rather amused him.

With the late Alfred Busuttil, they formed a formidable duo. I would even dare say they were Allied’s Laurel and Hardy, something rarely seen nowadays. Karmenu was the natural instigator, the spark that led to Il-Bużu, as Alfred was more commonly known, to start firing one joke after the other like a machine gun.

If anyone approached the office and there was a commotion it was sure to be the two of them going at it in full swing, egged on by us, the other members of the staff, who would never let such an entertaining occasion slip through our fingers that easily. It was not unusual to see management members joining in the fun too. Different times indeed.

Karmenu was what we Maltese would describe as a raġel fuq l-irġiel (gentleman of the first order).

I know he used to give me the same kind of advice and correct me in the same manner he would have given to or done with his own children. You could read the man’s thoughts easily; what he said or did was always so natural and coming straight from a heart that harboured no hate towards anybody. He always strove to practise his Christian beliefs.

Now that he is gone I will do my best to remember the balding, white-haired, ever-smiling man the way he always was. I will miss the regular visits he paid me whenever he was in Valletta after his retirement. Karmenu was never one to stay indoors, the job he had was testament to this.

To his wife, Alice, and his children I just say be thankful for the time you spent in his company. The void he has left is immense but the happy memories we have of him are many.

Grazzi ta’ kollox, Karm. May the Lord grant you eternal rest.