Lynda Dean 1 October 1949 – 16 August 2026.
My beloved Lynda Dean was the rock and the heart that held in place not only me and our family, but an extraordinary network of friends and communities throughout the Byron Shire and far beyond.
Lynda was one of those rare people whom you instinctively trusted. Direct and fearless in speaking the truth, she combined wisdom, openness, love of humanity, and wonderfully grounded common sense. People sought her counsel because she listened deeply, cared enormously, and somehow knew what needed to be said.
Born in Paddington, Sydney, to Grace and Mylias, Lynda grew up knowing scarcity but surrounded by a colourful and loving extended family. Exceptionally bright, she attended Sydney Girls High, where she formed friendships that lasted her entire life. Six of those school friends continued meeting every year for four days together – a small example of Lynda’s remarkable gift for holding people and communities together.
I met Lynda more than 50 years ago when we were both District Officers in the old Department of Youth and Community Services, working with troubled young people in Fairfield and Cabramatta. We shared a conviction that the child welfare system could do better. Together we helped establish the Field Officers Group, which grew to some 300 officers campaigning for reform.
Our belief was always that building self-worth and creativity could transform lives. One memorable experiment brought 19 young probationers together and gave them access to sophisticated new video equipment. They became the Vidi Kids, making films about their own difficult lives. Instead of the vandalism and failure others expected, they flourished. We also joined friends supporting Sydney’s first refuge for very young homeless people in Kings Cross.
Working side by side on these humanitarian projects created a bond between us that only deepened over the next half-century.
Heading to the North Coast
When my stepfather’s dream of creating an Australian tea tree oil industry was failing, Lynda agreed to leave Sydney with me and try to rescue it. We moved into an isolated log cabin in a vast northern NSW swamp, without power, telephone, neighbours, or even running water. We lived a pioneer life, rebuilding our home with whatever we could salvage, sustained by the belief that tea tree oil could become something valuable for the world.
That dream became Thursday Plantation. As it grew into an international company, Lynda became my closest fellow director, and headed human resources. While I was inclined to fly off with another wild idea, Lynda kept us grounded. Her instinct for people was extraordinary – knowing when someone needed guidance, when they needed firmness, and when they simply needed the freedom to flourish.
Eventually we came to Byron Bay and found the place that truly became home. We bought an old house in the heart of town and filled it with light, love, art, music, food, and parties. Lynda presided over the long table, and everyone was welcome.
Her contribution to this community was immense. As President of the Byron Bay Community Centre, she helped guide the transformation of a ramshackle old building into the wonderful community resource it is today. She worked early morning shifts with Liberation Larder, helping provide meals for people in need.
With Chris Hanley, Lynda helped establish the Writers Centre that ultimately gave birth to the Byron Writers Festival. She remained a guiding presence from its earliest days, helping it grow into one of Australia’s great regional cultural institutions.
She also gave years of service to the Northern Rivers Community Foundation, helping strengthen an organisation that has supported hundreds of community groups throughout our region.
Lynda worked tirelessly with projects supporting women experiencing domestic violence, the Shift Network, and many others. When difficulties arose, the phone would ring: ‘What should we do?’ Lynda had an extraordinary ability to cut through confusion and help people find a clear way forward.
After we sold Thursday Plantation, another great adventure began. We became directors of Organic India, a small values-driven enterprise with an ambition to become a ‘Vehicle of Consciousness for the Planet.’ Over ten years we travelled to India more than 24 times, helping the company grow internationally while remaining true to its ethical and spiritual foundations. It was work that suited Lynda perfectly.
But above everything else was family.
Lynda adored her children, Christopher, Nicholas, and Kalianna, and found immense joy in her grandchildren Elliott, Luca, and Leo. She was the glue of our family and the centre around which so much of our life revolved.
Eighteen months ago Lynda was diagnosed with an extremely rare and aggressive cancer. After receiving the diagnosis we went to a nearby cafe, looked at each other and, almost simultaneously, said: ‘I have no fear of death’.
That became the spirit in which we lived the time that remained. Of course we fought the cancer, but more importantly we made every day precious. Treatment gave us enough time for one glorious family journey through Paris, Courchevel, and Budapest, where Lynda even skied again with her beloved grandchildren.
Later, as her strength faded, we simply said, ‘Let’s go to Bali’. We spent two blissful weeks together in a place we had loved for many years, surrounded by beauty and the gracious care of the Balinese people.
There is so much more that could be written.
Lynda had an enormous circle of friends, including a remarkable group of local women who met monthly for 15 years. She even took to the stage in The Vagina Monologues, characteristically unafraid to share intimate truths. She held nothing back from life.
For me, Lynda was the angel who allowed me to fly free, knowing there would always be a safe and loving place to land.
She filled our lives with love, friendship, wisdom, wonderful food, laughter, courage, a listening ear, and an enormous heart.
She was deeply loved. She made an extraordinary difference. And she will be profoundly missed.
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