Derek: A Tribute

I first met Derek in 1965, 51 years ago. I was then a callow youth courting Jenny’s sister, Rosalind. She bore our 3 children - Adam, Anna and Alexander. They are here today to honour a favourite uncle, Adam and his wife, Adrien, in fact joining us by video link at home in the USA - good morning Adam and Adrien.

At my first meeting with Derek I formed an opinion of him that never changed. Which is hardly surprising because one thing you could always be certain of with Derek is that each time you met him you met the same person that you first met – no matter how long ago that was.

And the impression I formed all those years ago? Kind, generous, funny, thoughtful, selfless, modest, a simply lovely man – someone you knew you could lean on at any time you needed help. He was a giver not a taker: in view of the fact that he spent part of his business life dealing with central heating it is appropriate to say he was a radiator not a drain! It was simply impossible to dislike Derek or simply “D” as I called him – after all what other “D” could there be? In fact the only flaw that I could see in him was his inability ever to be late for anything – and to someone such as me who is never early for anything such punctuality is simply aggravating in the extreme!

Derek was an only child, born and raised in Ware in Hertfordshire – the town’s name never failing to amuse younger members of the family. He sang in the Church choir along with his father, whom everyone knew as “Pop”. I don’t know if Pop’s singing was the cause of Derek’s perforated eardrum but when he joined up towards the end of World War Two his hearing deficit caused him to be stuck to a desk job. Nevertheless, he rose to the rank of sergeant and It may well have been in the Army that Derek developed his love of military band music.

After the War, Pop moved with his wife to Sittingbourne in Kent and Derek, out of the Army now, went with them. He joined Hoover on the sales side and was soon promoted to area manager. He was persuaded to join Power Petroleum which was later acquired by Shell and he spent the rest of his career with them. It was working for Shell that brought him and Jenny to Hampshire. His roles varied from central heating oils to relationships with garages – and to each task no doubt he brought his integrity and honesty that customers must have valued highly and from which Shell must have greatly benefited. With this background he was well qualified to advise whenever we had trouble with the central heating at home – one expression always tickled me. He would ask: “is the boiler calling for heat?” so much more satisfying a way to say “is it switched on?”

Derek had a special place in our family and it is to family that I would like now to turn. He had two children by his first marriage, Christopher and Kay. Kay is unable to be here today but I am delighted to say that Chris and his wife Niki are here, together with Derek’s grandsons, Robin, Lee and Martin, who is accompanied by his wife, Karen. Chris and Derek had a special bond borne out of similarities in nature and their mutual love of bowls. Rivalry in the Liberty Trophy between Kent, for whom Chris played, and Hampshire, Derek’s county, must have been especially good fun for them both. Perhaps the greatest highlight though was when they played together and won the Gosport outdoors Open some years ago. I am aware that Chris has received many messages of condolence from Kentish bowling colleagues all of whom remark on the high esteem in which Derek was held as a sportsman and a gentleman.

Derek was a great favourite with his nephews and nieces. Because we lived close by, my children spent a lot of time in his company and the always-available sausage rolls (“You will have another won’t you?”), and, when they were a little older, a glass of wine or beer will remain fond memories. He had such a passion to please – the children and anyone and everyone - that it was really hard to refuse. Even after you started to look like a sausage roll!

But it was the magic tricks that Derek played on my children that will most be remembered because they live on with my grandchildren. The Tommy Cooper-like “catch and make disappear an imaginary object in a paper bag” is already a favourite with my older grandchildren in the USA as is the mysterious appearance and disappearance of a 5 pence piece from behind a child’s ear. In even such small ways the spirit of a favourite uncle lives on.

The love of Derek’s life, though, as everyone knows, was Jenny. They were married for 52 years and I cannot think that any man could have been more devoted than he was. Nothing was too much trouble. He sheltered her, he cared for her, he protected her, he was her greatest advocate, he simply loved her and the ground on which she walked was clearly more hallowed than any other. He loved the home that they created together and his greatest wish was to spend his last days there. That unfortunately was not to be as he became weaker and more dependent on nursing care, which he received so well in the Rowans Hospice. Dependent though he might have been, however, and eventually almost incapable of speech, his first and every thought was for Jenny and her welfare, not his own. Indeed, pleased as he always was to see visitors, when he thought that they must have had enough of him he would almost shoo them away. To the end, then, it was others who were his main consideration – not himself. He remained, as I said at the start of this tribute, selfless to the end.

I want to close on a high note. Derek was a bowler and the tributes from his bowling friends have been numerous and glowing. Yes, he was a fine player. Yes, he loved to win but if he didn’t his natural grace meant that he would pay full credit to his opponent. Perhaps an extract from one of the many letters Jenny received sums him up well as both a bowler and a man:

“On the bowling green Derek was always scrupulously fair and complimentary to team mates and opposition alike. He rarely criticised, but any criticism offered was always warranted and yet delivered in a kindly, positive manner that no one could take offence with.”

The letter goes on in a broader context: “He treated everybody, male or female, professional or artisan, the same. He was a true gentleman”.

These sentiments are echoed in another letter Jenny received from the Victory Bowls Association. It is a glowing tribute indeed. It praises Derek as a player with few peers, an automatic pick indoors and out for Hampshire and noting that it is surprising he was never picked for England. He was locally known as “The Machine” for his expertise, and more recently his chums in the “Blossom Hill Mob” (named after the wine of that label that they would share after a game) referred to him as the “Senior Professional”.

The letter includes this paragraph which sums Derek up well: “Derek’s contribution to the bowls fraternity has been legion but far more importantly his personal integrity, honesty, compassion, interest in others and his sheer niceness defined him as the absolute epitome of a gentleman and he will be greatly missed by all those who knew him or who are now benefiting from his considerable legacy to bowls in Hampshire”.

These sentiments are universal - and everyone’s description of him includes that word: “gentleman”.

Derek’s influence, then, will live on in so many lives. His name is on many of the rink-side honours boards at Banister Park where Jenny will be pleased to receive you after this service. And, whilst you are there, where Derek was in his element, rejoice that you were privileged to know him. We shall all miss him, but he would want us to smile and carry on – because he won’t even now be thinking of himself, but of you.

So, when we leave here today, to the uplifting strains of “Crown Imperial”, played by the Royal Marines band whose sound he loved, keep your head up and honour the man upon whose head an imperial crown could so justly have rested, for he was a gentlemen prince who rose above mere men.

Derek, dear friend of us all, rest in peace,



Nicol Holladay
February 1st, 2016