In a cautionary tale of how important it is to prepare for the future, Pax Kowaliw shares how after losing both his parents in quick succession, the family company, Koala Forklifts, was left in a leadership vacuum - with no directors, and no one legally authorised to act for it. 

Left up the creek with no proverbial paddle, what followed for Pax was a long and relentless fight to win Koala Forklifts back.

In a story that has to be read to be believed, Pax shares what happened in his own words.

Succession planning

Koala Forklifts started in 1981, originally known as Koala Trucks (Forklift Wholesalers).
Forklifts then were often called "forklift trucks,” but over time the terminology changed – and so did the company.

In the late ‘90s, after one too many calls asking about actual trucks, the name was changed to reflect what we really did: forklifts.

As a kid, I spent school holidays sweeping floors, cleaning forklifts, delivering parts – and without knowing it, absorbing the business from the ground up.

After high school, I took a different path. IT. I worked overseas, travelled, built a life away from the family business. But in late 2009, I returned – just temporarily, I thought – to help my father “for a little while”.

Seventeen years later, I’m still here.

A family business with two generations, two visions

Working under Tony, my father and the original founder, was never easy.

A post-WWII immigrant, he was forged in the school of hard knocks. Determined. Charismatic. Old-school. A control freak with a natural gift for selling and "moving metal." His world was handshake deals, fax machines, and paper records.

I, on the other hand, came in with a tech background, a strategic vision, and a hunger to evolve the business. I saw what it could become. He saw what could go wrong.

We clashed. Often.

I wanted to build a national rental and service network. He wanted to protect what he’d built.

Still, we grew – slowly. The business shifted from a used-sales focus to a more modern rental, service, and new-equipment model. But it always felt like one foot on the gas the other on the brake.

And always, there was an elephant in the room: succession.

The conversation that was never finished

We talked about it. We even planned a buyout.
But like so many family businesses, the dynamics were messy. The price dad wanted was emotionally loaded – sweat equity didn’t count. And he wasn’t ready to let go.

Our estate planning conversations kept stalling. He was the kind of guy who’d change his will if someone annoyed him that week. We tried involving professionals, but, as the saying goes, you can lead a horse to water…

Wills were discussed. Then discarded. One week you were in. The next, you were out. It became a running joke – until it wasn’t.

Despite our efforts, my parents never finalised a proper succession or estate plan. They were from a generation that didn’t talk about death, didn’t trust lawyers, and thought it would all “sort itself out”.

They thought they had time. They didn’t.

They never finished the wills. They never formalised the succession plan. And then, within five months of each other – they both died.

Grief, chaos, and a leadership vacuum

In late 2021, right before Christmas, we took Mum to hospital. It was meant to be a short stay.
She never came home.

She was never meant to go first. Everything had been built around the assumption that Tony would pass first. He was older, less healthy, and carried the weight of the business like body armour.

But losing Rita broke him.

Within weeks, we discovered he’d been hiding a serious condition – cancer. But that wasn’t what killed him; grief did.

And just like that, both directors of the company were gone.
No handover. No signed will. No successor.

We were parentless. And the business – Koala Forklifts – was suddenly leaderless.

There’s a saying: where there’s a will, there’s a relative.
Our problem? There were dozens of old wills... and none of them valid.

The company had two directors. Both now deceased. No company secretary. No share transfers. No power of attorney. No one, legally, who could sign a tax return, approve a payment, or make a single binding decision.

We sought legal advice. The verdict? Terrifying.

No lawyer we spoke to had ever seen a case quite like it – even the judges hadn’t.

• Both directors dead
• No valid wills
• No power of attorney
• No plan
• No authority

The business was technically operational… but legally paralysed. And in Australia, without a surviving director, there’s only one option (so we found out): liquidation.

Not because the business was broke. But because there was no one left with the legal power to act.

Liquidation - not because we failed, but because we had no choice

We placed the company, a 40-plus old business, into liquidation. That allowed administrators to be appointed as temporary directors with legal authority to act. But the moment the liquidation was announced, all hell broke loose.

The phones rang off the hook. Customers panicked. Suppliers demanded answers. Competitors circled.

Even though the business was viable, the word liquidation sent shockwaves through the market.

No one understood what had happened – not even people close to us. How could a business that never missed a beat suddenly fold?

We tried to explain. We called key partners. We met face-to-face. We wrote letters.

And here’s the kicker: once the administrators took over, we were locked out.

We had no say. No control. No protection. No voice.

And because I was a direct relation of the deceased directors, under Australian corporate law (Section 556 of the Corporations Act 2001), I wasn’t even entitled to my own accrued leave.

Let me spell that out:

• 13 years of long service leave? Gone.
• Annual leave balance? Gone.
• My future at the company? Uncertain.

Administrators aren’t evil - but they play by different rules. Their job is to get the best outcome for creditors. Not for families. Not for staff. Not for legacy.

Technically? The business was sound. Operationally? Stuck. Legally? Frozen.
Reputationally? On fire.

The final blow: they put the business to market

The administrators eventually reviewed the books and confirmed the business was viable.
They transitioned us from liquidation to voluntary administration – a better outcome, but still brutal.

Then came the bombshell: “We have to put the business to market.”

Wait, what? We hadn’t planned for that. We weren’t ready. This wasn’t covered in any MBA.

How do you raise that kind of capital in a few weeks? Should we try to buy it back? Could we compete with outsiders?

I didn’t know these answers, but I knew this: If we didn’t fight for it – it would be gone.

At least three or four other buyers were at the table. People with capital but who didn’t understand the legacy, the people, or the vision.

So we had a choice.

We could let the business go, walk away, start again.

Or fight. Fight for the staff, our suppliers, my parent’s legacy and the future.

We pulled together everything we had, savings, loans, payment terms, negotiated bids. We prepped. We pitched. We prayed.

No inheritance, no handover, no safety net.

One shot at rebuilding

We didn’t just want to buy the business, we wanted to honour it, revive it, rebuild it, reimagine it.

And somehow – by sheer grit, by miracle – we ‘won’.

But this isn’t a hero story; it’s a warning.

A raw, gut-wrenching cautionary tale of what happens when your affairs aren’t in order.

My parents didn’t mean for this to happen. But it did.

And it almost wiped out everything they’d built over 40 years – and everything we loved.

So, if you're running a business – whether you're 35 or 75 – let this be your wake-up call. Get your sh**t sorted. Get your Wills finalised. Appoint your successors. Secure your shares.

Don’t assume, don’t delay, don’t wait for “one day”.

Have the uncomfortable conversations now – while you still can.

Because one day – and it may come sooner than you think – someone you love will be forced to step in. And they’ll need more than your legacy.

They’ll need clear instructions about what happens next – for your business, and for them.

Today, Koala Forklifts continues as part of Spot On Warehouse Solutions – the national warehouse equipment and service group we built to modernise and scale everything we’d once done under the Koala name.