David de Burgh Thomas

David was a man of awesome intelligence. His 0 level results were so good that he was expected to take 3 A levels. Instead, on reaching 16 he asked if he could leave his boarding school for an apprenticeship in mechanical engineering at Banbury Tech. Here, according to his friend Mervyn Coup, he unfailingly and effortlessly came joint top of the class. He went on to work as an engineer until, at the age of 27, he joined Thames Valley Police at Banbury.

David could have gone to university and travelled the world but his choice was always to be with the people he loved – Yvonne, his wife of 14 years, the villagers he had grown up with, people from neighbouring villages and most especially, the villagers of Helmdon who gave him the nickname he treasured; Dave de Cop. David often said he and his wife were lucky to have found wonderful people in Helmdon. He made is home there into a haven of hospitality for his friends and was never happier than when people dropped in to visit. Just days before he died he had given a party to celebrate completing work on his kitchen.

David had a mischievous sense of humour, he loved practical jokes and was equally happy when the joke was on him. He was a shy modest man with a gift of understanding and relating to children. He also loved animals and birds, nursing them back to health, driving miles to bring injured hedgehogs or cats he found in the road to the vet. He chose Winston and Jess, his two dogs, from a rescue home.

David’s passions were intense and wide ranging, and as a result, he had a deep knowledge of many things including photography, fishing, animals, plants, computers, music and films. Most recently he had begun teaching himself the guitar.

Yvonne, his wife, patiently kept him company throughout all his passions, once assisting David in retrieving a float on a fishing trip by allowing him to hold her upside down by her ankles and lower her into the harbour. David inspired that kind of unquestioning faith.

David could do anything he turned his hand to; building, plumbing, plastering and mechanical work. With the help of the Swiss army knife he carried with him, he once mended somebody’s television while on a house call as policeman. It was a typical impulsive act of fellowship towards a man he had only just met. His every day bravery was tempered with a humanity that empowered him to handle human problems of all types, in 1998, for example, he receive a Chief Constables commendation after dealing with an incident in which a man threatened to set himself alight.

David died in Milton Keynes while on duty as a police motorcyclist through circumstances beyond his control. Just the week before, he had celebrated his fortieth birthday by taking his wife and parents out for a meal.

David was a caring, thoughtful and loving husband, son, brother and friend. To know him was to love him. No words can describe his loss; his like will not come this way again. This world was not big enough to hold a man as great or as special as David. He is irreplaceable. We are lucky to have known him.

From: Talkabout Winter 2001