On Sunday, I went to the funeral of Dave Hallsworth, aged 78. He died a few weeks ago, on 30th August, but the donation of his body to medical research - his express wish - lifted the usual constraints of time and place, so we were able to celebrate his life and mourn his passing on a Sunday in the majestic surroundings of the Palace Hotel in Manchester.
Dave, like his wife Elsie who survives him, was a life-long fighter. He was entirely true to himself, ruthlessly honest with everyone he engaged with, and battled to change the world in line with his beliefs.
Dave and Elsie had two sons and some (at least two - not sure how many exactly) grandchildren. Part of Dave will undoubtedly live on, then, in future generations.
But Dave's legacy transcends the biological. Mick Hume, one of the speakers at the funeral (who also gives Dave an honourable mention in Monday's Times), described Dave as the most vehement and uncompromising atheist that he had ever known (never having met my Dad, presumably). And yet Mick expressed his hope that Dave's spirit was at work in some way in that room on Sunday.
When someone like Dave Hallsworth, one of the great men of the British 20th century imo, dies, the sadness that we feel should gradually give way to something more enduring and edifying. Whether we remember the things someone once said, using them as a tool to fashion our own thoughts and ideas, or somehow try to incorporate something of the essence of that person in the way we live, we should apply more than a narrow biological definition to Legacy. We all have a legacy to build and offer to future generations, whether we are parents or childless.
Today, as I remembered the man who was famously court-martialled for attempting to set up a trade union in the Royal Navy (!), I thought of Dave's energetic fearlessness, his tireless drive for a more just world, and I felt that the day became more intense, more purposeful, as I endeavoured to be what I am, 100%, and all of the time.
