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St George’s News - Waterlooville’s Parish Magazine

The Website for St George’s Church, Waterlooville and its Parish Magazine St George’s News

Autumn 2024 issue

David Pask, 1958-2024

David’s funeral took place at St George’s on 24th September.

Let’s go back to the Valleys fifty so years ago. We’re in Cwmfelinfach, and two boys are playing amongst old pit workings and disappearing into the local woods. So free in those days. Mam wanting us outside the house not in it, under her feet. The boys go everywhere. But can they get onto the evening news? One day mam says the police had called and wanted to talk to them. Pleading innocent to everything, because they were, they waited anxiously for the policemen to return. They did, and asked David and Alun if they’d seen anyone loading large digging equipment on to the back of low loaders. Alas, they hadn’t. The theft on the national news that night – but they weren’t mentioned! Fame missed by a whisker.

A July child, the youngest in his year, he finds it difficult to keep up at school, his mother learning him to read, as brother Alun lies in bed listening. An early example of David’s determination, that strong will, a feature of our family. Life was tough in those days, and money short; you had to be ingenious and work hard to get on. My early memory of David is visiting us in Davies Street – we were living with nan and grandad – to do some window cleaning for the neighbours. David always with a purpose, always on the move.

And with age David found more profitable means of bettering himself. In the 6th form there’s a school skiing trip to Bulgaria. None of the family had ever been abroad, and his pocket money couldn’t stretch to it; but David again shows his perseverance, getting a delivery job at a grocers. Then, having saved enough, off he goes, to thoroughly enjoy himself; and to come back with nearly enough cash to cover the trip! Not quite magic. In the mid-70s no-one in Bulgaria could get hold of denim jeans so would buy them off tourists like David at very inflated prices – he was always canny with money.

The perseverance pays off. David passes the 11 plus and goes to Pontllanfraith Grammar, which very much pleased everyone, as you can guess. Successful in A levels he gets a place at Sheffield Polytechnic to study an HND in Computer Science. A very insightful choice in the mid 1970s as computers were like science fiction; especially to his dad, who Alun remembers not understanding it at all and asking why he was wasting his time…who was right there then?

It wasn’t all work! With money tight, there wasn’t a lot to look forward to; but the boys could enjoy the annual Sunday School and Working Mens club outings to the seaside. But that explorer again causes anxieties! by getting lost on one of these trips. Luckily he was found by his Aunty Rose playing away at the opposite end of the beach oblivious to all the commotion. Days out in Barry Island and Porthcawl an adventure for everyone.

That scamp from up the Valleys – me – would visit Melin Street to play toy soldiers with the brothers: my forces soon to be blasted in that infamous front room. No wonder! David a keen ATC cadet, enjoying many weekends at different airfields and camps where he flew in gliders and small aircraft. With a library of aircraft books he had an encyclopaedic knowledge of nearly all planes flying in the 60s and 70s. I was amateur amongst professionals.

Already before leaving home for the vast world beyond the Severn Bridge, we see the signs of David’s character, that restlessness, the drive, the dedication, that need to move on, to explore and experiment. As all who knew David know, he loved travelling, and telling us all about his travels. Wales was always going to be too small for him.

One life closes. Another begins. Once he left Polytechnic he had a few jobs back home in Wales but decided to move to London where computing jobs were more common. He moved into shared digs in Brentford, near the football stadium, and set off to explore the big city. It is now he ditches brother Alun! Alun tells the story. ‘I stopped with him once for a long weekend and amongst other things we visited HMS Belfast. We were having a good look around but got separated and he totally disappeared. I asked the guides to put a tannoy announcement out on the ship but he didn’t show up. I therefore found my own way back to Brentford only to find that he had a date that night with a girlfriend which I knew nothing about and that girlfriend was Sara. This proves that brotherly love was second best once he’d found his true love.’

I remember the excitement at nan and grancha’s, when David first brought Sara to Wales. A blonde bombshell – and from London! – walking through the door. David was the star of the family, the first to explore that strange open world outside those close Welsh Valleys. It almost didn’t happen, you know. They meet, but don’t swap telephone numbers or arrange to see each other again. Sara takes up the tale… ‘David and I first met in a cocktail bar in Richmond upon Thames in the spring of 1982. I was with my friend, Andrea, and although the bar was not crowded David asked if he could sit at our table. We got talking and later on we said goodbye and went our separate ways. Andrea and I went back to the same cocktail bar a week or so later (it was my hope that we might meet again) and as we arrived David was just leaving so he turned right round and the rest is history.’

Whew! Lucky David always kept his thinking cap on. And that strange alchemy of love, that gives us second sight. The relationship grows, Sara’s mum invites David to move in; and soon they are engaged, and marry amongst cherry blossoms at St Martin’s Church, West Acton, on 9th April 1983. With career thriving – computers are on the up – a happy marriage is crowned by the birth of a beautiful daughter, Sonja. Me and my mam – Auntie Ivy – lucky enough to visit the contented couple when living in that lovely flat in Ealing.

I’d just like to say a word about Auntie Ivy. We not only used to visit David, Sara, and Sonja in Ealing and Northolt, but my mother used to go on holidays with the family when Sonja was young. David to take a little bit of Wales around him, wherever he goes. Like most Welshmen abroad – England is, you know, a foreign place – David had plenty of hiraeth (longing) for the old country.

Keen on politics - I remember long, intense discussions on a wealth of topics – David also had a social conscience, doing volunteer work in a hospital cafe in London. And then there was the travel… Many parts of the UK and most of overseas; Canada, India, Italy, Greece and Scandinavia are just a few I have time to mention. Italy his favourite; many a glorious holiday had there.

Success with job, wife and daughter… Sonja graduates from Portsmouth University… the family moves to Portchester; for another chapter in a productive and well-lived life. Downsizing his career gives David time and headspace to enjoy himself more; with that keen interest in public affairs and the minutiae of travel – I remember him tracking mam and me on the train down to Portsmouth. Always an eye for detail. With a passion for all that interested him. Lately both David and Sara had taken up bowls. A happy and engaging life cruelly cut short.

A marvellous wife. A beautiful and intelligent daughter. It can only get better when Sonja gains another degree and marries the wonderful Iain. Many if not all of us will remember that magnificent wedding last year. David a very happy dad indeed. It’s as a dad we see David’s sense of fun; Sonja giving us many wonderful examples. Like that visit to Heathrow to look at the planes and pretending to drive the bus from the top deck. Or Dad calling Ruby the cat Sonja, when cat not daughter was misbehaving. Or Dad saying he would ‘tidy up’ Sonja’s ice cream cone by taking a big mouthful ‘just to taste a bit’. Then those walks along the Grand Union canal bird-spotting; dad always referring to moor hens as less hens. And when we return to Wales. Playing pooh sticks by Cwmfelin’s Sirhowy river. Calling out mint sauce to the sheep on the mountain side. Or saying that lambs were playing poker because they were gamboling around.

A full and rich life, one that could only be imagined when that young boy played amongst the pit workings and poured over those aircraft books. A brilliant achievement. One to be treasured; our David a man to be admired as well as remembered. And remembered he will be. Sara says it best of all: ‘I will miss David very much but am grateful for the forty one years that we had together and all life’s ups and downs that we shared. May he rest in peace now until we meet again.’