Hefin David and the Aeroplane Arms

Imagine aeroplane arms, where one hand reaches towards the sky and the other angles itself towards the floor.  That was the gesture I’d use to describe Dr Hefin David MS – to his face naturally (I am, after all, me).  It was a gesture that I felt best encapsulated a man full of character traits which I considered to be comprised of extreme stratospheric ‘highs’, but also, at times, bafflingly low ‘lows’ (he dumped me ok?!)

“Fundamentally flawed” was another term that I enjoyed levelling at him ‘mid bants’. Ever a fan of alliteration, it amused me to chastise him in this way and I’d get a small and delicious pang of joy when I could see how calling him such would, ever so slightly, hurt.

The realisation that I enjoyed causing him that pain honestly only occurs to me now, as I recall the memories of all of the amazing times we had together and as I attempt to describe and articulate our friendship.

I’m now left to desperately wonder why on earth I would ever do that to him, now that he is dead and the aeroplane arms or fundamentally flaweds can never be thrown at him again.

The truth was that he was fundamentally flawed, but as am I, and as are we all – Hefin always transcended those flaws because he was one of those truly original people who just sparkled and who everyone just completely loved to be around.

In the 25 years I had known him I have fallen out with him, seriously, twice, the way you often can with people who really inhabit and exhibit their existence. Our mutual friend Sally, who consistently and unfailingly adored him, gently and kindly brought me back to him each time. She could see what I often couldn’t (because the injustice and rage had descended) that the fun, vivacity and intelligence that he oozed was just too enthralling to ever truly turn your back on.

I met Hefin (Welsh for ‘summer ambience’ he would proudly declare with a glint in his eye) in January 2000 in our first serious job that we both secured following University.  He was an alumni of Cardiff Business School and I had just graduated from Birmingham. We were both recruited as researchers as part of the ‘Innovation, Creativity and Enterprise’ (ICE!) Centre in the then University of Wales College, Newport. My love of all things European began at this time where basically, I was paid to develop the kind of lifelong friendships that shape you completely and show you how laughter and fun are really what make life worth living. (We also completed very important projects such as how do you become a successful female entrepreneur? TL:DR set yourself goals (plus it helps if you have parents who are also entrepreneurs). Hey, here’s an amazing business support guide that helps you navigate the range of support available to you (it was pretty amazing actually) and also, do you want to get your nails painted by a small business at the Newport Festival of Enterprise? Here’s a balloon with the European logo on and a bacon bap for your troubles).

Whilst we were there he started to volunteer to teach – this wasn’t part of our researcher deal, and I remember thinking, “erm, what is he up to now?” Seeing Hefin teach soon explained why – he was completely brilliant at it, sharing his energy and personality freely and making learning fun, the way all of the best teachers are able to do.

It wasn’t all work of course. Many holidays as a gang (The Attention Seekers Tour) took place, particularly in the earlier years, which were characterised largely by:

1. Being universally despised in all restaurants due to the volume of decibels registered when we all tried to talk over each other
2. Hefin having a variety of newspapers that he’d carry around with him in a carrier bag whilst having a Welsh Flag beach towel draped over his shoulder.

We were young, full of verve and enthusiasm, and yet it would surprise me when he’d go and sit somewhere on his own, for hours, just reading the papers he’d been carrying around in his plastic bag.  It always seemed so solitary and ‘Dadlike’, an anathema to the energy, wit and humour which we’d all hang off when he was in the zone.

On Hefin’s ‘Hag’ do in Tenby, Sally had the genius idea (which I operationalised) of all dressing up as Hefins, with his black rimmed glasses, carrier bag and towel (a Welsh flag of course) slung over our shoulders.  Behold, his amazing reaction as he reached the top of our upside-down house rental stairs to see us all in our Hefin glory.

And here, on the final day of the wonderful weekend, this perfect ‘life imitating art’ shot.

Whilst working, Hefin had secured his PhD, specialising in the decision-making processes that micro businesses enter into when deciding to take on their first employee. TL:DR ‘yikes it’s a risk – let me see who I know in my network who can do the work I need doing first’ (yes, me flippantly summarising his years of research into a sentence – another thing I liked to tease him about. It’s a wonder I have any friends left to be honest – well, the numbers do seem to be decreasing).

And then he moved into politics. I say ‘moved into’, politics was always a part of him and again, when in your early 20s I found it completely baffling to experience a man who could talk avidly and explicitly about nights spent in the Gilfach ‘Workies’ (a working man’s club in the valleys) followed by dancing in ‘Blisters’ (I don’t think the nightclub was actually called that, but that’s what he reliably told us everyone seemed to call it) who would also regularly rewatch HOURS of VHS tapes of the 1997 general election result night. I think it was that one. Hefin would know.

It was wonderful to see his political career develop. I always knew politics was something that he cared deeply about, and whilst he had serious political ambitions, of course he did, he was something really quite rare – he genuinely put the needs of the community he served, and his personal values and beliefs, before that which would benefit him professionally.  This added a new depth to him in my eyes – the decisions that he took to champion others before himself demonstrated the strength of his character.

He was astonishingly honest about what he actually thought. Like breathtakingly so. He was, for the most part, a real ‘sharer’. Which as I got older, increasingly terrified me, particularly when under threat of redundancy 😬. I mean, one of my most career limiting attributes is also my ability to say what I actually think but even I would never call someone an ‘utter kn*b’ in Welsh on Twitter.

I was so cross with him at the time, but even after reading all of the hundreds of messages of people expressing how sad they are that he’s no longer here because he helped them so much, whether it was taking on the system to get their child the autism diagnosis they needed or standing up for a community whose property maintenance charges inexplicably and massively increased, I’m now thinking of those spontaneous, dare I say, brave, public expressions of what he was actually thinking as some of the things that, for me at least, I’m the most quietly in awe of.

I know he wouldn’t have felt that way.

In a recent WhatsApp exchange where I’d commented on how good he was on ITV’s ‘Sharp End’ (I had ‘series linked’ it such was the regularity of his appearances) I told him:

“With the rise of AI, for politics to survive, it’s going to have to be more you. I can see it marking essays that we have given the green AI light. You become hungry for a glimmer of humanity. I think humanity and emotion are going to be so much more important in every walk of life. Keep doing what you are doing Hef. Just don’t call people penises on Twitter”.

As his PhD proved and as I too attest, networks are everything, and Hefin’s was truly vast.  The only comfort I have had these last few days since I received the horrendous news from Neil, has been pouring over the outpouring of grief, reading all of the many wonderful things that people from across so many different areas of his life and work, have had to say about him. So I, of course, wanted my chance to say something too.

He was truly unique, completely irreplaceable, devastatingly funny and fiercely intelligent and I, along with so many others, loved the aeroplane arms of him.

Our group ached to hang out whenever we were able and when finally graced with his presence (it was seriously so hard to pin him down because he was always juggling looking after and being with his girls, that he loved deeply, whilst being a visible and active part of his much loved Caerphilly community) the warm glow you’d feel following our fleeting fun times would top up your ‘energy for life’ tank for ages.

And now he’s not here anymore and I absolutely cannot comprehend or fathom it. This has happened expressly without my permission and it is completely too much to bear.

I’m sorry for the relentless teasing Hef, I didn’t mean it, honest. You were the best.  Life, and Wales, is much the less without you.