Farewell to an automotive legend

One of the South African automotive industry’s most respected men – Toyota’s Dr Johan van Zyl – has passed away.

Three or so years ago, I was travelling to Linz in Austria. I was going there to witness something truly remarkable at the time: MAN was handing over nine electric eTGM trucks to Austrian customers. It was a seriously big deal back then. Of course, now electric trucks are a dime a dozen.

I flew via Frankfurt and, while on the bus travelling towards our plane that would take us to Linz, I noticed something equally remarkable (to me, anyway). Standing just two metres away from me was Johan!

I was really chuffed to see him; the president and CEO of Toyota South Africa had been appointed president and CEO of Toyota Motor Europe (TME) in 2015. So, whereas I used to see him regularly, I had not seen him for some time. He seemed happy to see me too; we had a nice natter on the bus.

We both duly took our assigned seats on the plane. But he waved to me. “Come sit with me. Let’s continue our chat,” he urged. I was more than happy to oblige. I loved interacting with Johan; he was one of the smartest people I knew. But he wasn’t just smart; he was so jolly nice too. And I adored his dry sense of humour.

The flight from Frankfurt to Linz is one hour and five minutes. But it felt like five minutes; we had such a wonderful chat from lift-off until the time that we departed the plane. He asked me why I was going to Linz – and then proceeded to quiz me on the electric trucks I would be seeing. I promised to email him a comprehensive information pack (which I subsequently did). I asked him why he was going to Linz. After all, while it has a population of about 200 000 people, it’s hardly the centre of the universe. He told me that he was going to deliver a lecture on hydrogen propulsion at Johannes Kepler University Linz. “It’s still rather hush-hush at this stage, but we will be doing big things when it comes to hydrogen propulsion. I’ll be sure to invite you to the launch,” he promised.

As we parted ways at the Linz Airport, I urged him to start taking things a bit easier. “You work too hard,” I berated him. “You need to start spending more time with your wife, Santie, your two daughters, sons-in-law and grandchildren!”

“Santie spends a huge amount of time with them,” he responded. “Family is very important to her. I will try to spend more time relaxing. But you know, Charleen, with my job, it’s hard…”

And so I was utterly delighted when he announced his retirement earlier this year. Yippee! He will have lots of time with his much-loved wife and family, I thought to myself.

I was so wrong. On Friday July 30, Covid took him. He was only 63. The man fondly known as “The Doc” was gone.

Johan’s funeral – attended by 7 000 people – was touching, moving and apt. Numerous captains of industry, politicians and friends paid tribute to him. I won’t repeat what they said, their comments have been widely publicised. Instead, I will look at the selfie that I took of the two of us on that plane together and remember him with great fondness. Don’t ask me why I took the selfie. I’m not a selfie person. I just felt the need to record a treasured memory.

Now that he’s gone, I am so glad that I did.