I'm sitting in front of the keyboard in something of a state of shock, certainly a state of profound sadness, having this morning received the news of the passing of long time friend and 'gamer Gerard Davey.
Gerard joined our group of 'gamers and friends early on, sometime around the mid 70's, even before the Christchurch Wargaming Society was formally registered. He was an enthusiastic 'gamer, and a highly skilled modeller and scratch builder, and his work on his 20mm WW2 Italian army was legendary. He was a prolific painter in his day, building an especially large collection of 25mm Napoleonics, and a slightly smaller collection of 25mm ancients armies.
He was one of the group of us who made the first ever sortie down to Dunedin in 1975, his Morris Oxford, and my Austin A30 Countryman, hosted by veteran 'gamer Al Duncan, visiting a core group of 'gamers down there from whom we caught the 'ancients' bug.
He spent a large part of his early career as a commercial traveller, and I well remember the modelling box that he carried with him, spending those long hours in motel rooms scratch building miniature tanks and vehicles to 20mm scale. Some years ago he gifted me a selection of those vehicles. They are treasures.
We know that this end comes to us all as we return to the stardust of which we are made, and we knew that Gerard was terminally ill, with little time left on this earth, but despite that certainty I faced this prospect with that sense of denial one has that this would not happen.
I recall with a slightly discomforting sense of freshness the many barbecues we shared as a group, with Gerard ever the source of great jokes and come backs, and we recall with equal clarity the day Lorraine and I completely by accident bumped into him and Marion at the cafe that used to be on the pier at Akaroa, where they shared with us the exciting news that they were getting engaged.
He was a good friend, a kind and generous human being, someone with a wicked sense of humour and a healthy level of cynicism about life. It will for me remain both his sense of humour and his profound kindness that will be his lasting legacy.
Marion, Charlotte, and Alex, have every right to feel the sentiment expressed by WH Auden in his poem 'Stop all the clocks':
'Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone'
Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.
Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead,
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.
He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong.
The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood;
For nothing now can ever come to any good.
W H Auden
And this morning's news brought these words for me:
This is perhaps how I would best like to remember Gerard, at a BBQ on the terace at the then newly purchased flat and first home of Sue and Dave Merry. Gerard is the one in blue seated centre front.
As they say, when they made Gerard, they threw away the mould. Our deepest sympathies to Marion, Charlotte, and Alex, and your extended family. Kia tau te mauri, e hoa mā!!
