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Here is a great article that came out in an Adelaide newspaper on Friday.


RADIO star Richard Marsland's final phone call to his mum in Adelaide ended the way it always did: with an "I'm fine mum", and "I love ya, I love ya, I love ya".

But the wide-smiled "comedic genius" – dubbed the "nicest guy in radio" – was hiding a pain far deeper than his devoted mum could imagine.

IT was nine days ago and Richard had finished his last breakfast show of the year alongside hosts Pete Helliarc and Myf Warhurst on Melbourne's Triple M.

The talented broadcaster, known for his infectious laugh and witty one-liners, was meant to have dinner with former colleague Tony Martin and friends at a pub, but he never showed.

About 8.30pm he phoned his mum Alisson and they had a regular mother-son conversation, with Richard intent on finding out the family's plans the following day.

She secretly hoped the questions related to his penchant for surprise visits home to Adelaide. Instead, it was a final phone call home hours before Richard made a lonely drive to Shiprock Falls in Victoria's Dandenong Ranges where he was found dead on Saturday morning.

His grieving family spoke to the Sunday Mail this week, telling of his tragic battle with depression.

They hope it will help others recognise the warning signs and get help before it is too late. But most of all they wanted to celebrate the life of a comedian, writer, and radio host, whose achievements included writing for TV shows Rove Live, The Glass House and Newstopia.

And they want people to remember him for his kindness and love of making people laugh. Mrs Marsland and her husband Peter, of Gawler River, said their son had suffered depression and attempted suicide about 10 years ago but few people knew.

Even his closest colleagues were unaware what his sunny facade masked, with one describing him as like a "Berocca" on the breakfast shift. He recovered after extensive counselling and had been "happy and in control" ever since.

But professional and personal difficulties this year, including a relationship break-up, wore down his coping mechanisms.

He relapsed and reached his lowest ebb in October, telling his parents he felt "lonely and alone". His anguished mother said she had felt "very scared for him". She said he was concerned about what his future held in 2009 and talked about going on holidays for a while.

They flew to his home in Melbourne to support him, but, never wanting to worry his family, Richard gave no indication of just how low he'd sunk. At the Gawler River home where he lived for 14 years, his mum and dad both tearfully said if they had realised the true extent of his pain she would have "taken him away" and kept a constant eye on him.

"He never would have wanted to hurt anyone," Mr Marsland said this week.

"This was not an act of selfishness on his behalf, rather a loss to his recurring battle with depression. This was a way for Richard to get release from his pain and nothing else."

Mrs Marsland said the torment they were now going through was indescribable.

She urged anyone suffering depression to seek help.

"It's a mother's worst nightmare," Mrs Marsland wept.

"If someone is contemplating doing this, they should have spent the last three days with me, or the next three days. Everyone has somebody who loves them, if they are suffering depression or any sort of suicidal tendancies they need to know just how precious they are.

"There is always help if they just pick up that phone."

Even in the depths of their grief, Richard still had his family laughing.

Like the time he was asked to write about his life in Year 2, and duped his shocked teacher by his fanciful tale of being adopted in New York.

Or how, in his early days on community radio, he accidentally sent a series of expletives across the airwaves in Adelaide's northern suburbs.

While listeners would remember him for his SAFM characters Tripper and Thorpy, two druggie teenagers from Redwood Park, these are the quintessential "Richard" moments his family treasures.

Mr Marsland remembers a man who was not embarrassed to kiss and hug his dad, and went to ante-natal classes with his mum as a teen.

"He was beautiful, loving, caring, talented, very sensitive, a gentleman and a gentle man," he said. "He was unbelievably apologetic, he was nicknamed "Mr Sorry".

He never wanted to offend anyone. Like he would apologise to the cleaning lady at SAFM for being in the way."

But he rued the fact his son was never given enough credit for his immense talent, and described him as like a "ventriloquist" – always making other people look good.

Despite effectively being a third host in some of his radio ventures, he was never officially recognised.

Triple M said after his death his role was to be expanded on the Pete & Myf show next year, but friends said had been told it would be cut back.

Good friend Ben McEachean, who studied journalism with Richard at UniSA, believed he never truly knew how good he was.

The film journalist recalls his friend sneaking off to Melbourne in uni days to perform stand-up comedy, but never telling anyone.

"I know he never recognised what other people saw in him, despite the successes he had, which were many and great," McEachean said.

"He was the funniest person I knew. . . but he had a low opinion of himself."

Facebook groups set up to honour and pay tribute to the music-loving radio personality have been flooded with messages of sadness, disbelief and thanks.

In an interview earlier this year, Helliar praised Richard as far better than "your typical anchor".

"Eventually, I'd like the show to be called Pete, Myf & Rich," Helliar said.

"He writes these amazing sketches that are cerebral yet accessible.

"But even after he delivers an absolute zinger, he'll take off his headphones and go, `Was that OK?'."

Marsland admitted to taping audience laughter from the first gag he wrote for Rove McManus, and comparing it to the laughter from the show's other jokes. He oozed talent from a young age, whether it was his creative writing, scrawling impressive cartoons aged 10, or making kooky movies as a teen. Sister Tammy laughs that he also wanted to be a clown – "and in a way, he was".

Richard lived at home until he was 28, and the special bond with his family was the subject of many Mail Men columns penned for the Sunday Mail.

He also wrote of his affection and admiration for his sisters Bonnie, 19, and Tammy, 35, describing himself as like "a mad magazine between two ornate bookends".

The former Christian Brothers College student with an encylopedic knowledge of pop culture got his start at community station PBA FM aged 16, then later cut his teeth on commercial radio at SAFM. It was there he dreamed up promotions like The Fugitive and joined breakfast crews on air, including Amanda Blair and James Brayshaw. He was later also a co-host on Channel 7's morning program AM Adelaide. His comedic talent would eventually become sought after by some of radio and TV's finest in Melbourne.

The highlight of his career was working with his hero Tony Martin and Ed Kavalee on the national Get This radio comedy show on Triple M.

Originally recruited as an anchor – announcing the time, cutting to the news – he became an unofficial co-host after his talents were realised.

Blair broke down this week as she spoke of how much she will miss one of her closest friends.

"From my experience, there is a darkness with any comedian, it's part of what makes them so good," she said.

"We all just want to remember him for the great person he was; warm, loving, generous, kind, funny, insightful and sensitive."

His funeral will be held later this week.