Howard's words from the church service 3rd April

Derek was the youngest of us three brothers, born in Wallasey, Wirral. We had a normal childhood if you consider growing up during World War II with German bombers passing overhead every night as quite normal.

He went to Wallasey Grammar School and then to Manchester University, the first in the family to do so, where he studied Geography and English Lit. He started in store management in Liverpool moving to Coventry, Swindon and finally London. This obviously didn't satisfy his desire to express himself and he soon turned to teaching gaining his diploma and starting a new career.

Derek could be quite controversial and there was never a dull moment when he was around. He eventually found someone who could challenge his views and harness that energy. Kip was also a teacher and would eventually marry him and they had a loving relationship with three lovely children living here in Hampton Hill.

We all kept in touch and had many great family get-togethers. Our families spent every Christmas together. Who could forget Derek's decision to celebrate Boxing Day - dragging us away from the cosy warm fire at home with leftover turkey sandwiches and watching old films - by having a barbeque half way across Surrey in the middle of nowhere, with balloons fixed in the bushes, party hats, music playing Christmas carols, drinking mulled wine and Kip's mum wrapped up in a sleeping bag to keep out the cold. Passers-by must have thought we were mad - but Derek was right because we always talk about those days and thanks to Derek we have lovely memories of great Christmases.

Unfortunately Kip became ill later and died when the children were all under 10yrs. Derek was broken but showed his great strength and character to bring them up with the help of the neighbours in Hampton Hill. As you can all see he did a terrific job of which I know he was so proud.

It was some time before he found the renewed love and support he needed in Jenny and soon married her. With the children having flown the nest, Derek and Jenny found pastures new in Ducklington, Oxfordshire. They carried out major renovations to a house and transformed this into a magnificent place to live. I almost expected this to feature in the next episode of TV's 'Grand Designs'.

However their ambitions were not yet complete and they wanted, I believe, another challenge. It took us all by surprise when they decided to move to France. They took their time and found a superb property complete with 15 acres in the Dordogne. Once more they completed extensive refurbishment and had their dream home.

Gladly Derek was able to enjoy achieving that ambition, sitting on the patio beside the pool sipping his glass of wine as the sun went down. I am so pleased that I was able to spend a few days with Derek in February this year and was able to share such a moment, just the two of us.

There was another ambition which he achieved and that was to have a novel published. It was hard work and he couldn't find an agent/publisher who would accept his work. He had to resort to the internet and eventually was able to find a publisher to print his novel. I believe two more followed and they make good reading. He also produced a number of short stories based on our father's life and persons in our community in Wallasey. They all show how adept he was to identify a person's character and his keen wit shines through.

Derek always had a point of view - never boring and full of love and consideration for us and our families. He was an inspiration to me in so many ways and I will miss him so much.

The last email he sent me a few weeks ago, when he knew he was being given palliative care ended with the question, "Will the sun ever shine again?" Well, he is now at peace and I believe in everlasting sunshine.

Sophie's words from the church service 3rd April

As you may know, Derek had recently produced an amazing summary of the family history, with some beautiful stories of his childhood memories. He asked for some memories of our childhood at home on St. James’s Avenue. I had begun to write these, and I’d like to share a few with you. I hope they give a flavour of the wonderful, kind and hard working dad that he was.

Derek organised fantastic birthday parties; balloons on the door, games, the balloon net and a birthday tea. I remember seeing him dressed in an enormous red kangaroo outfit for my animal themed party. At the end of these parties, however, instead of the usual party bags with sweets and toys inside, each child stood on the stairs and had a Polaroid photo taken, which they took home with a piece of birthday cake wrapped in kitchen paper. There was some confusion at not receiving a party bag, but Derek knew the value of recording these precious moments. 

The first car I remember was a silver Ford Cortina, a big car, perfect for cramming full of camping equipment and three small children and driving to France. We went camping all over France, the whole family squashed happily into one tent, Derek with a G & T each evening as the sun was setting.

Later, we had a very smart red Ford Sierra. This car was the victim of the (in)famous ‘Coca Cola’ incident when Tim, not realising the parcel shelf raised up at the same time as the boot door, placed a cup of Coke on the shelf during a service station stop. The boot was inevitably opened, the coke spilt and there were tears on all sides. And still ringing in my ears is Derek as he desperately wiped the seat down with a wet wipe saying "that's £4,000 off the car!!". The rest of the journey was probably in silence. He later traded up to a BMW though so I guess the value wasn't too diminished.

Arguing was inevitable in the back, where Tim and I each took to our sides of the car. Any rowing that went on too long would result in Derek’s hand coming round from the front of the car, and pinching the closest leg it could find whilst we protested "it wasn't me!!"

Many trips were made up to North Wales to see Nain. Whenever Claire allowed a break from her Madonna tapes, we would sing “she’ll be coming round the mountain when she comes”. We used to play guess the arrival time. If you guessed too late, Derek said “you have to wait outside the front door until your time came around”. If you guessed too early you would have to wait until that time the next day! Derek was nurturing our young minds even then.

When Derek ever got angry at the other cars on the road, he would use his favoured child-friendly expletive "blood and sand". He had a creative way of turning anger into humour. My personal favourite was when someone on the road crossed him, and he furiously yelled "indicate you prawn" to our delight! I still use the phrase when I drive today.

Such an intelligent, warm and creative man x

Celebrating Derek’s life: order of service Weds 3rd April

Welcome Rev.Peter Vannozzi

Dear Lord and Father of Mankind Hymn

Opening Prayer Rev. Peter Vannozzi

Memories of Derek Howard West

A portrait of Derek Margaret Kirkham

The Lord is my Shepherd Rev. Peter Vannozzi

Death is nothing at all Claire West

Memories of Derek Sophie West

Somewhere over the rainbow Jo Kirkland

Memories of Derek Bob Bryans

Red River Valley American folk Song

The Prophet Katie Jones

Fear No More from Shakespeare's Cymbeline
Nansi Eggleton and Jenny Hywel-Davies

Shakespeare’s Sonnet 18 Bryan Ferry

Concluding Prayers Rev. Peter Vannozzi

Jerusalem Hymn

Blessing Rev. Peter Vannozzi

Katie's words from the church service 3rd April

Kahil Gibran – The Prophet

Than Almitra spoke, saying, "We would ask now of Death."

And he said: You would know the secret of death. But how shall you find it unless you seek it in the heart of life?

The owl whose night-bound eyes are blind unto the day cannot unveil the mystery of light. If you would indeed behold the spirit of death, open your heart wide unto the body of life.

For life and death are one, even as the river and the sea are one. In the depth of your hopes and desires lies your silent knowledge of the beyond; And like seeds dreaming beneath the snow your heart dreams of spring.

For what is it to die but to stand naked in the wind and to melt into the sun? And what is to cease breathing, but to free the breath from its restless tides, that it may rise and expand and seek God unencumbered?

Only when you drink form the river of silence shall you indeed sing. And when you have reached the mountain top, then you shall begin to climb. And when the earth shall claim your limbs, then shall you truly dance.

Margaret Kirkham's words from the church service 3rd April

Derek

Here is a bit of Original Derek.

These are the opening lines of a little unpublished short story he wrote a year ago.

It is called The Gate In the Fence

“I don’t know who first put the gate there, the gate in the fence that is, but it son felt as though it had always been there. There was no razzmatazz, no one made a big thing of it – there was no jokey little ceremony, for example – but instead it seemed the most obvious thing in the world to have a little opening through which we could, if we wished, go next door without making a fuss.”

This little tale was a delightful present given to Mike and me for our wedding anniversary last year. We had been semi-detached neighbours with Derek here in Hampton Hill for 22 years. The story is about the little gate we had installed in the fence between our back gardens. Well I say it was about the gate, but Derek was master of the metaphor and it is really about neighbourliness, problems shared and resolved.

You can imagine how touched we were to receive it. It was beautifully expressed, imaginative, thoughtful and very loving. In fact it was Derek to the core. 

I remember clearly the first time we met Derek. It was February 1980 Mike and I were about to move to St James’s Avenue with our two young children, Katie, and Stephen, The owner of the house we were buying kindly invited us round to meet our new neighbours. Derek was with there with his wife Kip. He was leaning against the mantelpiece – tall, very good looking, urbane and 40 – seriously grown up. I was most impressed. I don’t think it is possible to talk about Derek without mentioning his lovely physical presence.

But more importantly, Mike and I were delighted to learn that that Kip and Derek had 3 young children Claire, Tim and Baby Sophie in a similar age group to ours. 

There were always fun creative things going on next-door –dressing up, painting, camping, excursions, and there were legendary Guy Fawkes parties with a bonfire on the grass. Our combined children were soon great pals and coming and going between the houses constantly. Eventually it was decided that it would make things a lot easier if we had that little gate put in the fence near the bottom of the garden It proved to be a great investment  - that gate was much used throughout the years –by the children and the adults too. Happy times.

But towards the end of 1983 Kip became ill and died within a few months. It was a shocking time and Derek was devastated. He faced the daunting prospect of bringing up his 3 young children single handed There was a lot of support on offer of course- Derek and Kip had lots of friends and there was a good community spirit in the avenue but it was a dreadfully hard time for Derek. The responsibility and worry were relentless. The little gate was quite important then.  In the end Derek did a marvellous job in raising his three kids but equally Claire, Tim and Sophie did a wonderful job in looking after their father.

After about 5 years Jenny arrived on the scene. I remember the day of their first meeting. Derek came bounding through the little gate to tell me all about it.

“She’s absolutely gorgeous “ he enthused. “Like a model and she’s intelligent and she’s got a lovely personality too”.

And from then on Derek’s spirit seemed to lighten. And when in October 1993 they tied the knot here in this church he was positively beaming.  The marriage heralded some intense activity. With Jenny came Katie and Morgan so now there were two families and 5 vibrant teenagers at 39 St James’s Avenue. The house needed to be enlarged to accommodate the expanded family. I remember this as the era of home extension, and interior design. But it was more than this. I think marriage to Jenny helped Derek find the direction and focus he had needed and also the confidence to try out new things and take risks. 

What was it I loved most about Derek? Well I would say his way with words. Derek loved to chat but for him a conversation was more than mere communication. It was an art form. Many of my happiest memories of Derek involve chatting over a glass of wine and, almost always, with a bowl of salted peanuts to hand, as he described some person, some event, in his perceptive, original, amusing way. I can picture Derek now  - eyes sparkling, smiling as he selected just the right word or perfect metaphor or as he shaped a telling phrase. He was a true wordsmith and it was a delight to talk to him.

And it wasn’t just the spoken word he was a writer too, after marrying Jenny he produced three novels, and wrote numerous articles and theatre reviews. He always said it was writing that gave him the most pleasure.

In addition to his writing ability Derek had practical skills and determination. He and Jenny made a marvellous team. This was evident when we visited the there House in Witney.  We were overawed by what they had achieved in the huge garden sweeping down to the river. There was the dry stone walling, massive new borders, patios and terraces.  We didn’t realise that this was just a gentle introduction to the big one les Rivieres, their next lovely home in the Dordogne. Derek told me he tried to keep to a routine. Writing in the morning and in the afternoon he was out and about chopping down trees, logging, clearing lakes, cutting acres of grass.  I think the combination of land and nature to be tamed and peace to write was heaven for Derek. 

And then since Derek’s cancer was diagnosed life became increasingly difficult and restricted. But Derek whom I always thought of a worrier became calmer, sweeter and more accepting. Whenever we met, or spoke on the phone, I was very impressed by how positive and uncomplaining he seemed. If he talked about his troubles it was usually to gently joke about it.  I don’t know how he managed it but I assume Jenny’s support and care must have a lot to do with it.

 

Derek was just naturally endearing. He had an open almost child like quality about him. He always seemed just so slightly bemused by life this was really apparent when he talked about his children which he did quite often. He would enthusiastically describe how wonderful they were, not, I hasten to add in a boastful way but as if to share his amazement and utter delight -as if he couldn’t believe things had turned out so well.  

He was a lovely man, a true gentleman. Quite simply the best neighbour one could wish for.

Bob Bryans' words spoken by Tony Simpson at the church service on 3rd April

Derek West OW

Derek and I met through our connections with Wallasey Grammar School. He was three years ahead of me, so we were only vaguely aware of each other during our school days. However we were both moulded in the same fashion; by the influences exerted on all its pupils by those who taught there and the ethos contained in the very place which went back far in time. So when we met again some 45 years after leaving the School, we instantly recognised each-other; not so much because of what we looked like but because of our attitudes and ways of viewing the world around us.

 Derek was active in the School Boat Club and spent a number of his school years toiling in the printing press, one of the many extra curricular activities fostered by the School. Another important School activity was the annual newsreel. This was a film made by the boys every year from 1938 to 1969 which showed the important aspects of the School’s life. When he was a committee member of the Old Wallaseyans World Wide, Derek took it upon himself to track down these old newsreel films. He led the team which produced a DVD of the school’s life and times over a thirty year span from these original films. His drive and energy propelled the project forward and despite arduous hours of watching boys running round the school track, playing cricket, appearing in school plays and so on, a credible story was produced on DVD enhanced by a commentary that he wrote. Probably more than he ever knew, this action has rejuvenated interest in the School he and I attended (sadly now long gone) and the OWWW are still selling copies , some ten years after his project commenced.

The drive and enthusiasm as exemplified by his approach to recording a piece of visual history were characteristic of the Derek I knew. I will always remember him quizzing me about the exact conditions required for growing excellent potatoes. Potato cultivation was something I did rather casually but he succeeded very quickly in producing a tip top crop on his plot in Ducklington - I am still only achieving third place in my village show. I was really sad when he and Jenny decided to “emigrate” to France but our friendship continued and I was astounded to see the effort and enthusiasm he poured into his new estate. His hospitality was boundless and although quite ill by the time of my second visit, we still had earnest and humorous discussions on the best way to prevent “les sangliers” from taking dips in his pool.

So in this short piece, I have tried to encapsulate the qualities of a remarkable man-somebody who was rightly proud of his Wallaseyan origins. I for one will miss him badly but am consoled by my warm memories of him. As his family gather round to say farewell to him, they should know that the Old Wallaseyans will hold him in their thoughts and mourn with them too.

Bob Bryans, Chairman of the Old Wallaseyans World Wide 28/3/13

Claire West's words from the service in Hampton Hill

I want to use today to reflect on what a big, warm, intelligent and funny man Derek was. Bringing us three up wasn’t easy but he kept his humour, his creativity and he was passionate about giving us the best childhood he could. He worked hard to ensure our links to our mother’s family were maintained and he loved telling stories about his own upbringing in Wallasey. I wonder if part of the reason he often talked about how wonderful his own mother was, is because he had some new insight into her life.

In the most obvious way he gave us life, but he also gave us a way to live. He instilled in us a passion for reading, for writing, for laughing, for camping, for eating lumps of cheese with handfuls of peanuts and for crosswords. He proved we could do anything by following his example. So we could decorate a huge house and raise a family single handedly, while working full time while playing squash while going to evening classes while writing novels and researching ancestors.

People who say men can’t multi task were not on the platform when we headed to Bristol one memorable Christmas. With three children, numerous suitcases of gifts including those Santa had asked him to carry, one broken collar bone and a cold, he bundled us onto the train and into a nice big space. As we took our coats off, a glance out of the window made his heart sink. We were on the wrong train and the right one was about to set off. We didn’t leave anything behind in the frantic dash across the platform, but we did end up sharing just two seats all the way.

This reading struck a chord for me because I still have the feeling that Derek is just having a snooze in the other room or driving his lawnmower out in the garden. It’s called death is nothing at all.

Death is nothing at all.
I have only slipped away to the next room.
I am I and you are you.
Whatever we were to each other,
That, we still are.

Call me by my old familiar name.
Speak to me in the easy way
which you always used.
Put no difference into your tone.
Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow.

Laugh as we always laughed
at the little jokes we enjoyed together.
Play, smile, think of me. Pray for me.
Let my name be ever the household word
that it always was.
Let it be spoken without effect.
Without the trace of a shadow on it.

Life means all that it ever meant.
It is the same that it ever was.
There is absolute unbroken continuity.
Why should I be out of mind
because I am out of sight?

I am but waiting for you.
For an interval.
Somewhere. Very near.
Just around the corner.

All is well.

Geoff Balaam's words from the cremation in Perigeaux 29th March

For Derek

From somewhere in the bowels of what was once the ACIP room in Le Bugue would come a resonant cough (or was it a clearing of the throat?). The key was E flat. An heroic key. A key which befitted an heroic man. This grand bronchial explosion signified the prelude to another exchange in the ongoing battle with our amiable and long suffering French professeur.

 

The rest of the class, still struggling to master the present tense, was alerted and awaited the inevitable opening salvo. Now, this invariably took the form of a grilling on the use of the indirect object or a eulogy on the beauties of the Pluperfect tense as exemplified by the English language. The professeur parried with gracious ablomb.   And so the exchange progressed across the demilitarised zone which was, of course, the rest of the class, until a ceasefire was announced and the two antagonists retired in a most gentlemanly manner.nNow, why this you ask yourselves? Well, this cameo tells us three things about Derek. Heroism. Love of the English Language and its Literature and he was, indeed a true English gentleman.

 

Firstly I mentioned heroism. Derek displayed a remarkable degree of courage during his long drawn out and personal battle with his health. As Isaac Asimov once said

 

                             Life is pleasant.

                             Death is peaceful.

                             It’s the transition that is difficult.

 

Derek did his best to make light of his transition, and aided by the outstanding care and attention provided by Jenny, was unwilling to accept that he could be defeated. He continued to look forward and to plan for the future and to remain remarkably cheerful in adversity.

Last year I gave him 2 books. One about the construction by Brunelleschi of the dome on the Duome in Florence,  the other about Michaelangelo’s achievement in painting the Sistine Chapel ceiling. He read them both and announced to me that he would have to find time, maybe this year, to visit both places.

Just consider, those of us who are local residents. We have known Derek for 4 or 5 years and during most of that time his body was under seige.  Yet, amongst the most significant characteristics that we shall remember will be his cheerfulness and his good humour.  That is indeed testament to his resolve and courage.

Derek was an educated and cultured man. A man of wide rangng interests. A man who you would want in your team at anything from a Quiz night to University Challenge. In particular he had a love of good literature (Shakespeare was always a close companion) and was never happier than when he had his nose in a good book . BUT, not just this. He himself was also a writer. On one occasion he leant me a copy of his novel “Unnatural Acts” saying, with typical modesty and self deprication that it really wasn’t up to  much and I really shouldn’t trouble myself to read it all. Of course, I was slightly disconcerted by the title, but I need not have worried. He had produced an elegant and thoroughly researched novel, embracing matters such as genetic manipulation of plants, complex computer programming and politics. Not bad for an English graduate !!

Following a Damascine moment, he recently expressed a desire to delve deeper into the realm of classical music.  I lent him a few CDs and to keep him occupied 3 volumes on the life of Beethoven. He embarked upon his task with enthusiasm, eventually e-mailing me to say (and I quote)

“ Just a line to say how well the music is going down. I’ve started the Biography and go forward into volume 2 with a deaf composer on my hands. I listen again to the string quartets and, of course, Beethoven, as always, is checking on me and not the other way round.”  I just loved Derek’s perspicacity and ability to coin the perfect phrase.

It is much to my regret but probably to Derek’s benefit that he has managed to evade the next project……The Life and Works of Richard Wagner.  I guess he knew that they were coming !!!

I could speak on and on about this remarkable, big hearted man. Magnificent at a Halloween party dressed as Count Dracul…..as if he had just stepped out of an opulent Holbein portrait. Patrolling his domain abord his tractor. Waging war against the local insurgents in the shape of sanglier and small rodents. Though being Derek I’m sure he didn’t mean them any ill will. He was utterly devoted to his family. He was ecstatic to become twice a Grandad… and in fairly rapid succession and enjoyed relating tales of their progress to any willing listener . He exuded warmth and congeniality. Sadly, he came late into most of our lives and I know that I speak for all in saying that we wish we hade known him longer.

May I conclude with a quote from his beloved Shakespeare. I’m sure Derek would approve.  From Julius Caesar

          Therefore our everlasting farewell take forever,

          And for ever, farewell.

           If we do meet again, why, we shall smile.  

           If not, why then, this parting was well made.

My friend and dearest lover has gone. Thunder claps and French military jets acknowledged his passing. Being at home and with his family was his dearest wish tho' never expressed despite being a man of wonderful words and perspectives.

Au revoir mon cheri

Jenny x