Richard Denny (on the right in the photo) and my father (left) were workmates and good friends. (Ohh and that's my mum in the middle).
Their friendship was cemented in a strange and painful way.
Their friendship was cemented in a strange and painful way.
My father operated one of those huge cranes you see rising out of buildings on a city skyline. One day he was lowering a huge slab of concrete into place.
Richard was helping to guide the slab into position.
Dad was unable to see the concrete slab and relied on the instructions given by various workmates. Sadly there was some misunderstanding.
The concrete slab crushed a number of Richard’s fingers – fingers which he subsequently lost.
The concrete slab crushed a number of Richard’s fingers – fingers which he subsequently lost.
The result was a firm friendship between the two men.
Years later, Richard and I became friends. And I found him to be a true gentleman.
He and his wife Yvonne’s home was constantly open to the young people of the church I attended. We spent countless hours there laughing, praying, and eating up a storm.
Richard was a humble servant – always cheerful – who simply did whatever needed to be done.
The list of his endeavours on behalf of others is way too long for this little blog.
Hey, but the nicest thing about this man was his great friendship. For me, that was without a doubt the most important thing about him.
Farewell …..
