Remembering Dave Morris

Dave was born and brought up in Aberdare in the South Wales valleys. He was the younger child of Betty and Islwyn – his big sister, Jan, just a couple of years older than he. He went to Hirwaun Boys School as an infant, later passed the 11-plus and attended the Boys’ Grammar School in Aberdare. He was a bright, pleasant, friendly, placid, steady boy – and he never changed. ‘Steady’ sounds so dull, but Dave could never have been accused of being dull. He was, as Jan testifies, a rock, a steady presence in everyone’s life, always there when needed, protective when protection was required – and yet he was also quirky, interesting, humorous, teasing, and sometimes a bit unpredictable.

His temperament was laid back and he did not go seeking out trouble. There was an occasion when, after a night out he and some friends removed the lights off the Aberdare Christmas Tree in the town centre and brought them home! – but such stories stand out because they were a bit unusual.

His interests at school were in the engineering direction. And he got into bikes early. He went along to the Scooter Club at the Plough in Aberdare with friends, and passed his motorcycle test a week after he acquired his licence on his birthday – he was to repeat this trick a year later with his driving licence. He left school in search of work with machines, which always fascinated him, and it was around the age of 17 when he had a fearful accident on his bike.

After some disappointments with work Dave set off across the Severn Bridge to work at Rolls Royce in or around 1972. But they tried to turn him into a draughtsman, and Dave wanted to work more directly with the kit. He saw a new device they had at Rolls Royce called a computer, and rather fancied that might be an interesting way ahead if opportunity presented.

In 1975 he met Cilla when he offered to produce the tickets for a physiotherapy students’ disco. Within six months of meeting Dave and Cilla were engaged, and in December 1976 they were married. Dave and Cilla seemed were clearly meant for one another. In their relationship many found a safe place, generous hospitality, and fine friendship.

Just after meeting Cilla Dave had changed jobs, to Olivetti. He worked for them for eight years before switching to a company that Olivetti then bought – so desperate were they, he joked, to get him back. He started on typewriters, and then moved on to computers. He spent many years as a mobile engineer – and he enjoyed the time he spent driving because it gave him time to think, to listen to the radio and to music. He was a gregarious and sociable creature, but he was not afraid to spend time on his own. He liked the quieter moments alone as well as the bustle of friends. He used to enjoy fixing the machines, but he also liked sorting out the customers. The people who used the machines were as much of the satisfaction. This was so even when he used to gently joke about that most familiar of computer engineers’ problems, known to the profession as ‘pebkac’ – ‘problem exists between keyboard and chair.’

With Cilla Dave started coming to Tyndale. He enjoyed the fellowship, and he enjoyed thinking about the ideas of preachers, and trying to connect them to his own experience. He would often have some little observation on what had been said. Remarkably perhaps, he didn’t really care for many of the things which the church took most seriously – particularly its vocal traditions, and he thought that the services were often too busy, too wordy. Perhaps that’s why he joined the dancers – and not just as the sound man!

In time he became a deacon, serving for two terms of office. At times I sensed he could be frustrated when there seemed to be too much talking, but his contributions to discussion were fresh and interesting, insightful and sensitive. With Cilla, he also led MOB for several years. Dave got on so well with children and young people – he didn’t patronise them or talk down to them, but gave them respect and space. His big presence could have been overpowering, but even if you were receiving one of his welcoming hugs, it never was. He laboured patiently to produce various publications. He put his gifts, creative and mechanical, at the service of the church.

One of the things many of us will remember about Dave is his quirky sense of humour. He had nourished it on Morecambe & Wise on the TV at home, but most things zany were ripe for him - Round the Horn and I’m Sorry I Haven’t a Clue; The Goons. He enjoyed sharing initials with Danger Mouse. What many of his favourites had in common was a playfulness with words. He enjoyed Stanley Unwin’s tongue-twisters, and also some of the wacky translations in user manuals he came across at work.

He gardened, he woodworked, he caravanned, he walked dogs, he liked music – from the organ at church to what people of my age call ‘classic rock’. He did lots of ordinary things, because he was an ordinary sort of guy. An extraordinary, ordinary sort of guy. He did these things with a large circle of friends, and to them he was uniformly solid and reliable and great fun. He had had good friends at school, and when he came to Bristol he shared a house in Redland with a group, many of whom remained close through the years. Then there were the radio hams, the badminton players, the dancers, the Eighth Day prayer group…

This big man with a big personality had a big heart, and he spent much of his time at Tyndale making sure that other people could heard. He would sit at the back there, monitoring sound levels and adjusting sliders. He was making sure that people heard the words, which told of humanity’s finest aspirations fulfilled in the life of Jesus Christ, who embodied God’s best promise to all of us. That in the valley of the shadow of death and beyond, we are not alone. Dave had a hug for many he knew well amongst the church family: we now commit him to the embrace of the God he worshipped, pondered, celebrated and in whom he trusted. We will do our best to do the same. And for all Dave was to us, for the difference knowing him has made, we are grateful to God always.

Abridged from Robert’s address

13 July 2005