Friday, October 8, 2010


30. Sacred memories by great-uncle Colin 

Ever adventurous
the stalwart David
took his chargling Andrew
over rocks and crannies
down to the sea,
undaunted by muddy puddles
or crawling, cringing reptiles.
The popular army graduate
heroically held his charge
ever onward to experience
enlighten and toughen
his unlikely pedigreed friend.
To the sacred pool they went
where seals swam,
their pups playing
basking in the sun.
In the stillness of listening hills
on ridged, rasping rocks
avaricious seagulls cried,
as placid Andrew,
held firm in David’s grip
yearned and wailed
that he could join
this wondrous scene
where nature vibrantly pulsates
And man can but desire.

January 2005 In memory, to honour a very special young man
David William Curtis
With love, great-uncle Colin and Andrew

Sunday, September 12, 2010

29. Cheeseburger and chips by Hong Liang

I first met David about 10 years ago when we bought the Piranha Seafoods business in Eastbourne. In my memory, David was a very nice, friendly and polite boy. Every time he came to our shop he ordered the same thing - a cheeseburger with extra cheese and chips. He always had lemon pepper in the chips. He loved our char-grilled burgers so much that he often brought his friends to our shop for the same meal.

He said to me that when he finished his apprenticeship he wanted to join the army and be a soldier. That was his plan for the future. In fact he did it very well, making us very proud of him. Some time after he had joined the army, David came to our shop telling me he had just come home for a few days of holiday and that he was enjoying life in the army even though the wages weren't very good.
 
We saw that David had grown up to be a tall young man. We all thought that he would have a successful life and a bright future. He seemed to us like a very motivated and determined person.

One sad day early in the New Year, David's Mum (Anne) came down to tell us that David had had an accident at a party. Everything happened just so suddenly, so soon. Even now, a few years later, we still keep thinking that David hasn't left us yet. He should still be with his family and his friends now. But what a shame that David had to leave us. He is not going to come back forever and we will miss him forever. David was a rare person, compassionate and caring. We feel lucky for having known him.


Thursday, May 13, 2010


28. David’s cheeky grin by Doris Marshall (David’s aunt in Worthing)

It was 1993 and my husband David Marshall and I were in charge of James and David for a week while their father Edward (as Graham was known to us) was at an international public service association conference in Finland. He was president of the PSA in New Zealand at that time. David and I had taken a week's holiday so we could look after them.
 

During our week together in and around Worthing, we had some good walks on the South Downs National Park and I remember explaining to David about stinging nettles. David, of course, then had to sting himself to see if it was true. He found it was and we had to hunt for dock leaves pretty smartish to stop the stinging!
 

Then we went to a festival in Worthing on the seafront and David M went with the boys into a giant crane, which shot into the air. David rocked the cradle furiously, making us gasp from our ground view. We also took them to the chalk pits museum in Amberley, where they quite liked the old buses.
 

I found the boys were calmer without their Dad and we soon had a routine going similar to the kind of things we allowed our children to do. David always had a cheeky grin and I can see him now feeling the peaches in the bowl gently to see which one was ready to eat, with permission of course. I allowed them one can of fizzy drink a day and one ice lolly from the freezer in the garage. David also liked going down to the local sweet shop (which he confused me by called a “dairy”) to buy his lollies. But he was wearing braces around his teeth in those days and I wondered how he would get on cleaning his teeth after all those lollies.
 

His Nan and I took the boys to Butlins in Bognor Regis and they had a great time on the go-karts. We also took them to London on the train. Their half-brother Tim Curtis met them at Victoria Station and they spent the day and that night with him, seeing the sights of London. I know they enjoyed their open-topped, double-decker tourist trip around London. Tim brought them back by train the next day and the first thing David said to me, very excitedly, was: “We went everywhere by taxi!”
 

During this week, their Granddad Allan from New Zealand came to stay. He was on another of his grand tours of the UK and Europe. It was lovely for the boys to have him around. David M gave him a bicycle to use so he could get himself around Worthing. He spent time with my mother Doris too and they would go to the park together to watch the bowlers. I also remember the time he took us all to lunch at the Rose and Crown.
 

When Edward returned from Finland, they had one more week with us. He and the boys would often walk into town together, buying burgers from Porkies burger shop on their way home. They said they were the best burgers they had ever had. The shop had closed down on their next trip to the UK six or seven years later.
 

One day, David had had a bit of an argument with his father (as he often did) and he decided to head off on his own. I remember seeing his little blond head streaking past me as he arrived back at the house. A very worried Edward arrived home ten minutes later asking if I had seen David. He was very relieved to know he had got back safely.


Tuesday, May 4, 2010


27. David stands his ground by Tom Owers

David and I spent heaps of time together when we were at Muritai School. We liked to go skateboarding in Lower Hutt after school or at the weekends, and we stayed at each other’s houses quite often. We were inventive and liked doing new things, but we also got into trouble a lot.
 
I remember one occasion when we were in the old Queensgate and we wanted to get some basketball cards out of a vending machine. We would have been 12 or 13. We had some tweezers and we were trying to trick the machine into giving us the cards. Unfortunately we got apprehended by the police, thrown into the back of a cop car and taken to the Lower Hutt police station.
 
I was impressed at how David stood his ground when the police tried to belittle us, telling us we were losers and would get nowhere in life if we carried on the way we were. David tried to outshine the cops and made a statement saying he would make more money in his lifetime than they would ever make as policemen. I admired that spirit in David. Nothing set him back.
 
We were taken into a kind of holding cell and told to go into the opposite corners and face the wall. They then brought in a dog handler (without his dog) to try and scare us a bit. He was a big, stocky guy, but David wasn’t scared.
 
Eventually, they rang our parents and they came to collect us and take us home.

26. Toughening up Andrew by Anne Manchester

Between Christmas 2004 and New Year, James, David, Uncle Colin and I spent three special nights at a little rented house in Lake Ferry. Fortunately, the landlady agreed Colin’s pampered Pekinese Andrew could come with us, despite her normal “no dogs” policy. I explained to her he was hardly a dog at all.
 
In the days preceding Christmas, James, David and I had been very busy trying to finish the outside painting on the recently restored summer house. As usual Garry the builder had let me down and the whole job had dragged on far too long, hence the last minute painting on the eve of Christmas. David was incredibly willing and hard working, as he had been ever since he joined the army. He had become my rock, someone I could really depend on. When he came down from Linton Army Camp to stay the weekend in Eastbourne, he would often ask me what he could do to help, with tree pruning and some house maintenance fairly regular jobs.
So it was a relief to get that last minute summer house painting behind us and finally set off on our mini holiday. This was going to be a particular treat for Colin who had never been to this part of the Wairarapa Coast, and for James, who was due to head back to the UK in January.  

Again, David was incredibly helpful as we packed and unpacked the car at the other end. As long as I had remembered the tomato sauce, he was happy. He was a man of simple tastes. And he didn’t mind camping out in the living room at night, as there were only three small bedrooms.
 
They were four blissful days, exploring the shoreline and watching the fishermen casting their lines into the sea, then burying their catch in the wet sand to keep it fresh. David was quite convinced Andrew was much too soft and spoilt and very much in need of being toughened up. David himself had been toughened up in the army and it was time Andrew was too. So whenever we went out, David would get Andrew to run beside him. James and David also liked to play vigorous soccer games with him, using a tennis ball. It was quite surprising how Andrew’s tiny legs could sometimes outrun theirs. At the end of the game, the three of them would fling themselves down, panting, on the grass to rest. Colin loved watching the three “boys” play together like this.
 
We also spent a bit of time down at the Lake Ferry Hotel, where James and David had a pint or two and played a bit of pool. They encouraged me to join them at the pool table, which I did for a while, but I was content just to watch them play together, something they hadn’t had the chance to do for quite some time.
 
David was also keen that Andrew should have some new experiences in his life. One was to encounter a seal, so when we visited one of the seal colonies nearby, David carried Andrew with him, bringing him rather close to a baby seal and its mother. Of course, dogs are not allowed near these protected creatures and one man there got rather upset at David’s actions. But, of course, he did not realise Andrew was not really a dog at all, even though he looked suspiciously like one. This fellow and David exchanged a few blunt words on the topic.
 
On the day we visited the Cape Palliser Lighthouse, we had a relaxing picnic by the sea. But it was not long before David was up taking Andrew for a run. When Andrew returned looking rather bedraggled, having been run through several muddy puddles along the way, his doting father was less than amused. But how could a bit of mud hurt a real dog? David asked.
Andrew’s last big adventure that holiday was going out to sea in Bob Buckley’s crayfishing boat , to watch the crayfish pots been hauled up and their crays released onto the bottom of the boat where their pincers, hard shelled bodies and swivelly eyes looked quite menacing as they flapped around at our feet. David held Andrew firmly in his arms, assuring him no harm could come to him and this was all a good experience for him.
 
Later that day, we had a delicious seafood BBQ at the Buckleys where Andrew, assisted by David, got a further experience of the wild coastal and rural lifestyle.
 
On our way home from our little holiday, we called in to see Ian Stewart and Mary McCallum at their Dry Rock olive grove. Mary was impressed at the way David related to her young daughter Issy, talking to her in a respectful and patient way. “Not many young men would bother to do that,” she said to me.
 
But by then, David was anxious to get back to Wellington to meet up with his new girlfriend Emma, so our visit was brief, though memorable.

25. Doing something for other people by James Curtis
 

Dave and I were in a generous mood as we prepared for Christmas 2004. Christmas dinner was going to be at Mum’s that year, with Catherine, Jonathon and Ariana joining us. Uncle Colin was still living with Mum at that stage. We decided to make a joint effort for the family. Doing it together and doing something for other people was fun.
 

We had a relaxing day in town together, planning what we would buy over a beer in the courtyard at the Matterhorn in Cuba St. This has always been one of my favourite Wellington haunts and I wanted to share it with Dave. We agreed we wanted to buy something special for everyone that year, so we put a lot of thought into what each person would like.

I was quite impressed at David’s generosity. He wanted to buy the beers and to be generous. It was part of his reformed character, I guess.

We bought a really big lego set for Ariana, a kind of rescue airport. We knew she loved lego and we probably thought we’d enjoy playing with it too. For Catherine and Jonathon, we bought a milkshake maker and for Nana a luxury white bath towel from her favourite store Kirkcaldie and Stains. We knew how much Uncle Colin liked chardonnay, so choosing something for him was easy.

It was David who suggested we buy Mum a bicycle. He knew she had been talking about getting one for ages. What we did was pay for the bike, then get a voucher which we put in an envelope for her. She seemed pretty touched by this present when she opened it on Christmas Day. Sometime after Christmas we drove into the city to collect the bike, which, rather sensibly, she decided to upgrade into something a bit tougher, so she could cycle down to the Pencarrow Lighthouse without the whole thing falling apart.

Sunday, April 25, 2010


24. Lighting a fag in Tanuki’s Cave by James Curtis

One of David’s favourite places in Auckland was Tanuki’s Cave, a Japanese yakatori grill and sake bar in Queen St. He’d been there a few times with Dad and Michele, when he was visiting from Linton.

When I came home from London for Christmas in December 2004, that is where David and I, Dad and Michele, and Richard and Kuljit went to celebrate. We had a really good time. David loved all the different meat dishes cooked right in front of you, and the beer and the warm sake of course. David offered to pay for the whole meal that night and gave Dad $150. Dad took it but gave it back to him later.


When Dad, Michele and Kuljit left, the three of us stayed on and we were the last in the restaurant. David had a game he liked to play where he would head butt us. It was something he learnt in the army and he thought it was quite funny. This was also the first night of the smoking ban in New Zealand, which was a real challenge for someone like David. He rolled up a fag, lit it and started smoking in the restaurant. The bar staff noticed this very quickly and told him he couldn’t do that, so David had a few puffs and stubbed out his cigarette. David didn’t like people telling him what to do and he enjoyed pushing the limits, but he didn’t go too far that night.

It was a really nice family evening. I liked Tanuki’s Cave because David liked it and I’ve been back several times since.


23. Hanging out at Muritai School by James Curtis

Skateboarding at Muritai School brought us all together. It gave us all somewhere to go after high school. Most people brought their skateboards to skate on the ramps that the youth worker Chris Casey had helped the boys build. Even kids who lived in the Hutt would come out to skate on those ramps. They were really popular.
 

We formed a bit of a community really. There was Dave and me, Tom Owers, Tom Rainey-Smith, Shamus and Sam Boyer, Harley Tripey, Matt Tuffin, Reuben Nicholas and Tom Lynch. Sometimes the older brothers Sam Rainey-Smith and Stephen Owers would join us. We felt like the rebels, listening to punk music in our cars and skating. You could have up to 40 kids down there, just mucking around and hanging out together. 
 
I just tagged along really, but I had my car and sometimes my motorbike and that made me popular. We liked playing the US band NOFX on our car stereos. It’s skate punk type music -- ante-establishment, anarchistic and ante-capitalism. They were one of our favourite bands. 

To play "180 Degrees" by the punk rock band NOFX Click Here
(this music will open in a new tab, please re-select this tab to view this page while you listen)

 

Sometimes we would go to Ryan Cowley’s place and sit in the garage smoking and drinking beer. One night, some of Ryan’s friends were staying over. Dave, Tom and I thought it would be funny to light fireworks in the driveway at night time and the run off. But unfortunately, Ryan’s father heard us and got into his car and chased after us. Eventually he found us in Muritai School and really lost his cool. I am not sure he handled it very well. But I guess we could be pretty annoying too.
 

The principal of Muritai School, Pete Pointon, let the skateboarding go for a while, but he had trouble with Dave and Tom and eventually banned the skaters. Then the skating ramps moved over to San Antonio. Things changed a bit after that.


22. Holidays at El Rancho by James Curtis

Sometimes during the school holidays, Mum would send me and Dave to El Rancho Christian holiday camp in Waikanae. We enjoyed the activities on offer, including a “flying carpet”, which gave you a ride around a field on a rug pulled along by a tractor. There was a mud slide, air rifles, horse riding, a flying fox and a sweet shop. There really was a lot to do at these camps.
 
We were not so keen on the Bible bashing sessions, however. They tried to scare us, saying that if we and our parents did not become Christians, we would go to hell. We didn’t believe what they were saying and would take the piss a bit. In fact, we tried to push it as far as we could go, which probably annoyed them a lot. However, we did think it was cool when our cabin leader asked the Holy Spirit to come into each of us. We all felt something quite special that night.


Overall, going to those camps was a good experience. At least we began thinking about things. One of the youth leaders took a particular interest in Dave and Tom and came to visit us in Eastbourne a few times. He was rather intense, I think.


21. The 402 Muritai Road weapons programme by James Curtis

It was Dave and me against the world.

Our weapons programme began quite simply, making bows and arrows out of all the bamboo growing on our property. Later we got a bit more sophisticated and started putting fins on the back of the arrows. Then we discovered we could tape nails on the front and would aim them at targets down the back of the section.
 
The plums were a great temptation, of course, and were great ammunition for the various sling shots we made or were given. Uncle Colin gave us some primo sling shots once, which Mum wasn’t at all happy about. She had to confiscate them in the end, especially when she found out we sometimes fired them at birds.
 
Joey guns were great for shooting gum nuts. We made these out of bits of pipe and fingers from old rubber gloves taped onto the ends with masking tape. You could get different gloves that would shoot the nuts at greater or shorter distances. Dave and I would play a “war” game with Stephen, Chris and Matthew Galbreath next door and Patrick Rountree up the road, using all three properties. We would be in teams and then hide from each other. You could take prisoners of war and put them in captivity. We used pretend guns sometimes. The tree forts we made were part of the war game. Some of the trees on our property ended up with so many nails hammered into them, they were virtually destroyed. We liked to help out the Galbreath boys on their fort design and construction too. We also played a lot of “war”games with the Baker brothers. They even attacked our house one day.

Attacking the judge’s house next door was great fun when we got home from school. We really wanted to flatten his house, for some reason. We would throw eggs, tomatoes, rotten fruit, old 78 records belonging to my Dad, anything we could think of really, at his house and at his nice white chimney. We also fired BB guns over the fence. 

He would get so angry with us and would come over to see Mum to try and find out why we kept doing it and what she could do to stop it. Really, there was nothing much she could do – we were just so determined to annoy everyone. Funnily enough, the judge and I made up in the end and he even let me keep my motorbike in his garage, which was better than storing it by the shed at home.

Dave and I eventually moved onto bomb making, using things like baking soda and vinegar and putting it in a canister. There were lots of other missiles we made too.
 
Around Guy Fawkes, we would use fireworks in our war games. Eventually the community picked up on our fireworks wars and we would have a big war down at Bishops Park, which Dave and I led. We were the Curtis brothers, our own entity, and this was illustrated best through the feuds we had with other families. It was total mayhem. Roman candles, which came in 20-shots, was a favourite weapon, as was Thunder in the Blue Sky, which made an extremely loud bang. We would fire this above people’s heads to frighten them. Unfortunately, this firework was banned after the first year. We made skyrocket launchers, a pipe in which we could fire off our skyrockets horizontally at people. Mostly we shot the little fireworks at people.
 
The morning after Guy Fawkes, Dave and I would get up at dawn and head out on our bikes to collect unlit or dud fire works from the parks and beaches. We would bring them back in New World plastic bags and hide them under our beds. Then we would spend the next few weeks emptying out the gunpowder and recycling it as bomb-making material.
 
One morning, after Mum had gone to work, we let off a big fireworks bomb in the back garden. Jill next door rang the local policeman Jo Mitchell to tell him a weapon had been fired next door. He was around in five minutes, but he didn’t do anything. He was just a push over, really.
 
Dave and I just loved our weapons programme. I would say our passion and enthusiasm for it were equally matched.




20. Camping at Butterfly Creek by James Curtis

One Saturday, David, Tom Owers and I decided to go camping for a night at Butterfly Creek. David and Tom would have been at primary school still and I had probably started at Petone College.
 

Tom’s father Bill decided to walk over the hill with us, as he liked walking anyway. We had a three-person tent and backpacks laden with beer and some food. Unfortunately, the beer started to leak and we worried Bill would notice and might take it from us. Anyway, fortunately he didn’t notice and he left us in the late afternoon to set up camp.

We pitched the tent, made a campfire, ate the baked beans and drank all the beer. It was a great place to go camping, so close to home but you really felt away from it all in the bush as the darkness fell. I also remember going camping over there when I was at Muritai School.



19. Go kart racing thrills by James Curtis

Go kart racing down Kowhai Street was a really dangerous activity but Dave and I loved it. We had a great little trolley that we bought from a garage sale – just a wooden box, really, with four wheels and a steering wheel. Richard Sarginson, who lived in Mahoe Street, had one too.
 

Often we would take our trolley to Greenwood Park where we would roll down the bank in it, but taking it up to the top of Kowhai Street and rolling down from the top to the bottom at high speed was really challenging and dangerous. It was a miracle no one got hurt or killed, really.




Dave and I also loved riding our BMX bikes around the neighbourhood and in Greenwood Park. We also played a lot of ball tag with Chris and Stephen Galbreath, who were our neighbours, and with Patrick Rountree, who lived two doors away on the other side. We would play this game, using a tennis ball, in the three properties and down at Greenwood Park.






18. Exploring Eastbourne by James Curtis

Dave and I were great companions. We would do so much together. Nana often said we were more like twins than brothers of different ages. Exploring Eastbourne, the beach, the bush and the hills, was a really lovely aspect of our childhood. I have so many little memories of the things I did with Dave. One time we visited a goat which was kept behind a fence on a property in the Eastbourne hills. We spent a lot of time on our bikes. Once we found a waterfall spring in the bush near Burden’s Gate, which we drank from on more than one occasion.
 

Dave and I, along with the Galbreath brothers, would build dams at the mouth of the storm water pipe at the beach near us. We would spend hours doing this, particularly in the summer. And we played cricket with the Galbreaths and Partick Rountree at Greenwood Park. We would play cricket at home too, but Mum was not too keen on that, as there was always a chance a ball would fly through a window. I often think how different our childhood would have been if we had not had the Galbreaths living next door.

I also remember taking long walks with Dad and Dave along the Hutt River, when we were staying with him in Moera at weekends. Also, sneaking off for smokes with Dave down at the Eastbourne beach or down at the park.

 

Sunday, April 18, 2010

17. David's biography by Anne Manchester

David William Curtis was a most beautiful baby who shot into this world (his birth at Lower Hutt Hospital was pretty quick) at around the 11th hour on the 11th day of the 11th month of 1983. Immediately his personality seemed evident – determined, positive, energetic, ready to take on the world. He was, above all, my gift to James – I wanted James to have someone to grow up alongside, someone to love and care for, and maybe even to learn from.

He was baptised the following year at Eastbourne’s St Alban’s Anglican Church, with his aunt Catherine and great uncle Colin pledged as his godparents. It was my mother, David’s grandmother, who had suggested the name David, a Hebrew name meaning “beloved”, a most fitting choice.

David, during his all too brief life, brought me great joy and great pain. He was a high spirited, mischievous and very determined child, who delighted, frustrated and exhausted his parents in turn. One of his earliest and fondest memories was eating mince stew for lunch at the Avalon Child Care Centre, which he and James attended in the mornings while I was working part-time for the New Zealand Film Archive. He even appeared in a couple of television commercials during this era, his mop of unruly blond hair and blue eyes making him a very appealing subject.

He and James spent many family Christmas holidays in Christchurch, staying with their granddad, where they enjoyed the summer produce like raspberries, swimming at Jelly Park Pool and pottering about with their granddad in his workshop.

David, aged four, attended the Eastbourne Kindergarten in the mornings. When I began a journalism course at Wellington Polytechnic, my friend Debbie McColl would pick him up after kindy and take him back to Point Howard where David played happily with Sam and little Emily until I picked him up mid-afternoon.

When he was six and James nine, his father Graham and I separated and the two boys lived primarily with me in Eastbourne. They spent a lot of time together -- perhaps their parents’ separation helped them grow closer and become even more dependent on each other. As they grew older, they spent increasing amounts of time with Graham, then living in Moera, often week and week about between both their homes.

David was a boy who challenged authority and pushed boundaries in every field of his life – at home, at school and in the community. Encounters with school principals, the local constable or irate neighbours were reasonably common experiences for me during these years. I often wondered which of the two brothers led the other astray, but James assures me the odds were about even. David would often tell me he was just dumb and I worked so hard to convince him the truth was quite the opposite.

For years, his chief recreation was skateboarding, a passion he shared with his great mate Tom Owers, Scott Duncan and many others. A popular after school activity was gathering with his mates at Muritai School and playing on the skateboard ramps that the local youth worker Chris Casey had helped the “gang” build. Fishing off the Eastbourne Wharf with Stephen Galbreath was another passion and he had a brief flurry with surfing. He showed considerable talent on the soccer field when he played for the Eastbourne soccer club. However, he did not pursue this sport beyond primary school. David rather turned against skateboarding when he fell and broke his arm when he was about 17. His arm was in plaster when he attended Richard and Kuljit’s wedding in Auckland in 2002.
 

David’s only other encounter with Hutt Hospital (except for his birth) happened about aged ten when he was admitted for observation during a dangerous hallucinatory experience after ingesting datura seeds or leaves. This unfortunate incident was orchestrated by James’s less than desirable friend Shaun.

David, like James, tried his hand at a number of after-school jobs. However, he proved to be less conscientious at them than his brother. His first job was delivering newspapers and circulars around Eastbourne, pushing his deliveries around in an old pushchair. I was pleased to see him take on this little job, as he was very keen to increase his pocket money, but I was less delighted when I found many of the newspapers stashed under the house - not great for those expecting their papers nor for the man paying him for the deliveries as well as creating something of a fire hazard. In typical David fashion, he showed little remorse when his delivery technique was sprung. Selective delivery was his method, he told me.

He spent a brief few weeks working at the local butchers shop, but gave this up rather quickly when he discovered an aversion to raw meat. More successful was his time as a trolley boy at Pak ‘N Save in Petone. This time, he was more motivated, taking this job on in preparation for his application for his electrical engineering apprenticeship. He was then keen to show evidence of some work experience.
 
David travelled overseas four times: twice to the United Kingdom with James and Graham when he was nine and 17 (Graham’s wife Michele was there for the second trip). There he met up with his extended Curtis family and got to know London, Worthing and Ross-on-Wye a little. During his first visit to the UK, he and James spent many a happy hour on the pier at Worthing playing on the slot machines. He returned home proudly with a bag of plastic trophies -- key rings and other little toys --  evidence of his success on these machines. He also went to Sydney with Graham and James when he was ten, and to Fiji with me in 2002 where he took much delight in haggling in the market places for souvenirs. He and James also had a number of holidays around New Zealand with me.

He left Hutt Valley High School at the end of the sixth form, having spent that year living entirely with Graham and Michele in Petone, seeming to cut himself off from his Eastbourne life altogether. The following year he began a three-year apprenticeship in electrical engineering with the electrical training company Etco. That same year, Graham and Michele moved to Auckland. David decided to stay on in Wellington and returned to live with me in Eastbourne. He was a diligent apprentice, hardly missing a day’s work. He did a lot of his practical work at the Malvina Major Retirement Village in Kilbirnie and at Parliament during its refurbishment.

However, the job did not give him the job satisfaction he had hoped for and, in 2003, at the age of 19, he decided to join the army as a sapper, a field engineer, encouraged by his friend Shaun Dunlop. I listened sceptically to David as he explained this new idea to me. I truly doubted David, with his rebellious nature and rather too-ready lip, would be able to accept army discipline. But only weeks into his basic training, I realised my doubts were unnecessary. I will never forget the pain of farewelling him at the Wellington Railway Station, as he waited to board the bus to Waiouru, along with the other new recruits. He was awkward and distant and I returned to work upset at our unloving farewell. Within weeks, David was writing me affectionate letters, describing his adventures during his training and telling me how important I was to him. For me, this was the greatest miracle of my life.

David accepted the rigours and discipline of army life with enthusiasm. In fact he once told Bill Owers, Tom’s father, that the best thing about the army was the discipline. I believe the army turned David’s life around. It was his finishing school. The army took over the role of parent and nurtured David into the wonderful, loving, open human being whom so many grew to know, appreciate and admire during the last 15 months of his life. One of his proudest (and perhaps most nerve-wracking) days was “march out” day in December 2003. David had survived his three months’ basic training at Waiouru, had mastered the drill and the army haka, and would soon be on his way to Linton Army Camp to begin his sapper training. Seeing David on the parade ground in his dress uniform, trying hard not to let his platoon down on this special day, was a truly memorable occasion. I am sure Graham, Michele, Catherine and Ariana, who were all there to support him, will never forget it either.

During his time in the army, David discovered who he was and what he wanted for his future. He grew very fit and strong, with a wonderful physique. I had never seen anyone so comfortable in his own skin as David. He healed all the broken relationships in his life, particularly with me. He became my rock, the most loving, helpful and supportive son a parent could wish for. He wanted to be the best brother he could be to James and he continued to be a loyal friend to all his old and new friends. I know he wanted to make my life a little easier in any way he could and I know he looked forward to his relationships with all the members of his family, particularly with James, growing closer as each year went by. He planned a great career in the army and was working hard towards an overseas deployment in the near future. He once said he might consider joining the police force at some stage, a surprising statement considering his contact with the constabulary in his younger years.

In mid-December 2004, David and James stood side by side at their grandfather’s funeral in Christchurch, speaking publicly about what he had meant to them. They looked so handsome and impressed all there with their confidence and co-operation in this sad role as grandsons. We had a very happy family Christmas in Eastbourne and a brief but wonderful holiday with Uncle Colin and his little canine companion Andrew at Lake Ferry between Christmas and New Year. The future looked so bright for us all. How could we ever have imagined that such happiness would be shattered so utterly, that within two days David would be dead, having fallen down a 15-foot bank at a property in Brooklyn, Wellington, where he and James were attending a New Year’s Eve party with some other Eastbourne friends. Only moments before he fell down onto the road where he was killed instantly, he had been sitting on the bank (which was not really a bank at all), chatting to an old friend Reuben Nicolas, telling him about his new life in the army and texting his girlfriend Emma who he was due to meet down town later that evening.

The tragedy of David’s death devastated so many people and has been so terribly hard to accept. I for one always believed I would never be truly happy until I knew David was happy and until our relationship as mother and son was resolved. I thank God and thank David that this miracle came to pass. The wonder of this enables me to live my life as best as I can into the future, sustained by the memories of my dependable, handsome and most loving son.

Friday, April 2, 2010

16. Blog under construction 

 

Wednesday, March 24, 2010


15. A passion for lollies by Ariana Harper
 
I looked forward to David coming to our house to look after me when Mum and Dad went out. He was a really fun babysitter.

Going down to the dairy to buy lollies was definitely the highlight. We would walk down the hill and go to both the dairies in Ngaio, making sure we got the best deal and so we were fair to both shops. 

I used to get the money out of my piggybank to buy the lollies. David would ask me if my parents allowed me to do that. I said they wouldn’t mind but I was probably lying. So David would help me get the money out, using a knife from the kitchen. We liked to buy raspberry licorice, sherbet and mixed sweets in little white paper bags.
 
One night when I went to bed I forgot I was still wearing my lolly-bead necklace. David said goodnight to me but a little while later I woke up screaming because I thought I had a weta crawling around my throat. David came into the bedroom and asked me what the matter was. I just kept on screaming, really loudly. In the end he just stood there blocking his ears because he couldn’t stand the noise. Finally I stopped screaming and we worked out it was the lollies, not a weta, I could feel tickling my throat. “I think you had better take that necklace off,” he said. “It’s time to go back to sleep.”
 
Sometimes David brought his play station over to our house. He was quite addicted to it. He would play his games while I watched and ate my lollies.
 
Another time he cooked up some cheerios and offered me some. I thought they looked disgusting because all their skins had come off and were floating about in the red water. So David ate them all, then I regretted I hadn’t had some too.
 
For Christmas 2004, James and David bought me a huge lego set. It was like a rescue airport, with little helicopters, buildings and people. They spent a long time helping put it all together for me. They used to play lego a lot when they were little. 

Other times we used to play monopoly together, stretched out on the living room floor. That was another of our favourite games and it was fun playing it with them. I was about twelve years younger than David but he was always patient and kind to me...


Tuesday, March 23, 2010

14. A very good friend - lost but never forgotten by Scott (aka Old Man) Bennett

I remember well the first day I met Dave. It was 2003 and we were both starting our Army basic training course, on our way to becoming sappers. Dave was selected to room with me and four others. It was quite funny, as here was this very youthful, almost baby-faced lad who was very quiet and looked rather nervous about was what coming. We were all in the same boat, our first day in the Army. 


From day one we started to get along. Some of the other lads would give him a bit of stick etc and he took it all on the chin. He never got angry or fazed by the quite tense situations that could sometimes occur when living in barracks. Even if things got touchy, I would say something to try and right the situation. After all, I was 30-odd, “the old man”, as the lads used to call me (hahaha). Anyway, I happily accepted this "tag" and, as the weeks went on, I started to get along very well with Dave and our other roomies.
 

I remember one particular night, when it was coming to lights out time for us. That is when the sergeant walks round all the rooms to check we are all in and in bed early, ready for the next day. Anyway, in comes Sergeant Brill, a big strapping, hard case sort of chap. He stands at our door and his figure casts an imposing, intimidating shadow across the room. Then he says to us: “Right lads, lights out and I don’t want to hear so much as a mouse fart!”
 

Well, we all crack up laughing, so he turns around and starts walking down the corridor, clump, clump, clump, in his heavy army boots. Then Dave jumps out of bed with a bloody camera and quickly runs to the door and takes a photo of the back of Brill walking away. Well, Dave had forgotten one thing, the bloody flash. Click goes the camera, the corridor lit up like Blackpool tower. Then we hear: “Who the bloody hell was that?” We were trying hard to conceal our laughter, which was very hard to do at the time. Brill ended up telling us all off, but he saw the lighter side of it in the end.
 

I never got to see that picture but it was such a bloody funny thing and who would have thought the quiet one of the room would take a chance like that, just to have a laugh? I will never forget that funny moment, as I will never forget Dave. He is always in my thoughts and his picture has pride of place in my home, next to pictures of my son. He is family to me and always will be. It is such a shame he was taken from us, especially from his wonderful mother Anne and family. My thoughts are always with you and your family Anne. You and your family have been so very strong and loving, and I know David loved you all with all his big heart...

Wednesday, March 10, 2010



13. Babysitting David and David the babysitter by Catherine Manchester (David's aunt and Godmother)
 
David was a charming boy. I quite often babysat the two boys, James and David.
 

As a one-year-old, David had the ability to switch off from the general hustle and bustle of family life. Even at its crescendo, I caught him gazing out of the window at the velvety rain cascading down outside.

When he was a year or so older, we would have animated conversations as I was putting him to bed. On one occasion, as a chivalrous gesture to thank his babysitter and aunt, he reached out of his bedroom window and plucked some white flowers, possibly roses, and presented them to me with a flourish. I was very touched by this little scene.


When our daughter Ariana was about one and David ten, we took a photo of him holding his little niece. It is one of my favourite photos of David. 


A few years later and on several occasions David would come over to Ngaio to babysit Ariana, which he didn’t want to be paid for, but we insisted. 

He was most caring and attentive and read her stories and, as they shared a love of lollies, they would take the longish walk down to the dairy to choose their favourites.
 

Later on, when Anne was overseas, David stayed with us for six weeks during some of his electro-technology apprenticeship. He was good company to us all and did a great job at fitting in. Again, he was happy to babysit for us. 

David will always be remembered by us as a charming individual.




Tuesday, March 9, 2010


12. English lessons by Nell Manchester (David’s Grandmother)

In David’s first year at Hutt Valley High School when he was thirteen, Anne asked if I would give him English lessons. Could I, really was the question. I was woefully unqualified, with only two years’ secondary schooling and a year at a commercial college, so called, to recommend me. Would I? Of course, it would be an unlooked for pleasure. But, there was the risk I might do more harm than good.
 

However, I prepared myself as best I could, wondering why my university-educated daughter had chosen me, of all unlikely people. Could she not perhaps have used her own skills?
 

David arrived for his first “lesson” with his skateboard under his arm. Throughout his teens he was an avid skateboarder. Prior to that, he and James had been much into hurling missiles. Often I had feared going to the back of the house in case I was caught in the cross-fire. But that phase of their lives was by now, I thought, behind them, though Guy Fawkes night in their company could still be a bit scary.
 

At thirteen, David was a fetching little fellow, not yet giving a hint of the quite tall, fine young man he would grow into. We had a drink and something to eat before we settled down to the work where I was put to the test. We often had our lessons at the picnic table at the back of my cottage on Marine Parade. David enjoyed the afternoon tea I put out for him and applied himself to the tasks I set with a ready willingness.
 

The boys found it difficult expressing themselves verbally, hence their hyped-up physical activity, missile throwing, et cetera. This must have seemed strange to many people who knew the parents to be bright and educated, socially adept, and very articulate.
 

I hoped that reading aloud to me might help David over this particular hurdle. Other aspects of my “job” would not be so easily managed. But some progress at least was made and I know Anne believed it all helped him to get through his School Certificate English examination two years later.
 

I’m not sure how long David and I shared this coming together experience, how many months, a time that was precious to me. Perhaps it was the closest I ever got to him.
 

Getting to know the splendid young man was to be a period so brief, when it had promised so much.

Sunday, March 7, 2010


11. An awesome month – Emma remembers her Dave  
by Emma Hatcher 

It was December 10, 2004, and I felt sick. I cried as I put on my ball dress because I had waited all year for tonight but I was miserable as I felt horrible. For weeks leading up to the ball, my friends and I had joked to each other about whether we would have a date to take, but we didn’t, and that was fine, as deep down we were cool with that. We really wanted to cherish that night together as a group that had finally got through the course – we had made it and we were finally teachers!
 

We got to the Duxton Hotel about 9.30pm and went straight to the bar to get drinks sorted. It was my second visit up to the bar when I met you. I remember noticing this blond cute guy standing there who didn’t look familiar, so I quickly introduced myself; you were simply “Dave from the Army”.
 

I felt something for you straight away: I liked your deep voice, the way you looked warily at me from the sides of your eyes, how you were not troubled to help with my drink issue, how you seemed on the outside a hard man but I could sense that inside you were soft, loyal and kind, and above all I liked your white shirt – you had good taste!
 

After chatting for a while, I asked you to dance and you replied, “Nah, I don’t dance, but if you can get the DJ to play SHOUT! I will dance with you.” After a few hours, the song finally came on, and you kept your promise. As I pulled you onto the dance floor, I couldn’t believe I had met you. We looked deep into each other’s eyes and I felt a connection, almost like you and the night were meant to be
 

December 10 was the start of an awesome, exciting, wild month. I felt I was walking on air. Questions would pop into my head, “How did this happen?” “Where did this blond angel come from?” The funny thing is, Dave, I had never been attracted to a blond guy before, but you mesmerised me. I adored your blue eyes, your long eyelashes, your cupid-shaped lips, your soft ear lobes, and I loved the caramel blond strong arms you held me with!
 

I thought about you constantly. I loved the way you spoke to me, the simple word “babe” that just captured my heart. I had finally met someone who could show true feelings. You loved me in a way no one else had before. I loved your hard exterior and adored your soft interior, the way you could express your love for James, Anne, and your deep flowing loyalty for your friends, especially Thomas. I felt so safe with you, like no one or nothing would hurt me. I felt, as long as I was with you, then everything would be ok!
 

I loved the way you drank your coffee – strong with whipped cream. I loved the way we would argue about our differing opinions on music. I loved the way you went out for a smoke at 4.30am “because there is never a time too late for a smoke”. I loved the way you would take your shirt off and throw it to the ground. I loved the way you cared for me and I loved your heart – how strong it was and how fast it would beat – you were just so alive.
 

That month was the best I have ever experienced. I felt so happy, so sexy, so cared for, so mesmerised, so excited and, above all, anxious that maybe you would leave my life as quickly as you had entered it.
 

Thursday night was so awesome. We did not know it then, but it would be our last night together, ever. We really opened up to each other that night. You told me about your childhood memories -- Ariana, your childhood sweetheart, Thomas your troubled friend who you would die for, and our desire to keep seeing each other.
 

That night we expressed how we were so lucky to have found each other and how random the circumstances were. You said you would come down every second weekend. I was so excited, what an adventure we were going to have. We really loved each other that night. There was such a strong connection, an energy between us. I felt I was falling for you. I wish so much I had told you that now!


I was so excited to see you that night (New Year’s Eve), as it was going to be our last night together before you went back to Linton. I really wanted to go with you to Brooklyn but you wanted to spend the first part of the night with James and I wanted to spend some time with my friends. The whole time I was at Nicole’s, I felt lost without you, there was something missing. I now know that’s how you were feeling too. I caught the 11.30pm train into town and tried desperately to find you, to contact you, but it was in vain. I didn't find out that you had died till 10am the next day. I just couldn’t believe it: it was like a bad dream. How could someone so alive die? How could that fast, strong heartbeat stop?
 

I am so glad I got to see you during the days leading up to your funeral. It was really healing and I hope you knew I was there. At your house was where I found peace. I could feel your presence and knew you were comforting all of us. You looked amazing in your army uniform, so sexy and smart. I wish so much it wasn’t in death I got to see you in it. Dave, did you feel me touch your hand and kiss your forehead? Did you hear my words of love for you?
 

We all have so many questions, so many “what ifs” and so many shattered lives to rebuild. It’s just so crazy. Why did you come into my life for such a short time? Are all our lives mapped out, and you were never supposed to live beyond 21 years? I am so confused.... I miss you so much!
 

I will always remember you, smile at the times we shared, cry for the future we can’t experience together, dream of you, and hold on to my belief that I will, one day, dance with you again!
 

All my love Babe

Emma xxxooo

Thursday, February 4, 2010


10. Photobiography by Anne Manchester

Viewing: Click on any image to enlarge. Click on back arrow (top left of screen) to return to this page.


1) David is born in Lower Hutt Hospital at 11pm on 11/11/83


2) David enjoys life at 402 Muritai Rd..


3) James and David watching afternoon TV


4) In the garden with Graham


5) On Eastbourne beach


6) Daddy’s little helper


7) First birthday at the Avalon Day Care Centre


8) James keeps a watchful eye on his little brother


9) At Granddad’s in Christchurch


10) Working together


11) David’s baptism 1984 at St Alban’s


12) In the tree fort


13) Summer days in Christchurch


14) In the garden at 402


15) Christmas in Christchurch with Doris 1988


16) Early fireworks’ experience


17) The little policeman


18) David needs some restraint


19) The naughty angel at Avalon TV Studios


20) Meeting Santa


21) With Tim


22) Queenstown


23) Refreshment on Mt Ruapehu


24) On Eastbourne beach


25) Holiday time


26) With Ariana


27) With Richard at 402


28) Down South


29) David’s first trip to London


30) On holiday in Auckland


31) On holiday in Auckland


32) On holiday in Auckland


33) David the fisherman


34) Three cousins


35) At Taupo


36) A family gathering at 402


37) David graduates from Muritai School


38) At Makara Beach with Ariana


39) Hutt Valley High School days


40) Christmas in Ngaio


41) Bonding with Tiger Georgina


42 David and TG deep in thought


43) In Auckland with Granddad


44) Around the brazier with James


45) Celebrating New Year’s Eve at Ross-on-Wye


46) Piccadilly Circus


47) With mates in Wellington


48) Richard’s wedding


49) The four brothers and Kuljit


50) Farewell to James at Wellington Airport


51) Holidaying in Fiji


52) Holidaying in Fiji


53) Holidaying in Fiji


54) Visiting David at Waiouru during his basic training


55) At the Waiouru Army Museum


56) With Graham


57) David marches out


58) The haka on march-out day


59) With Anne and Catherine


60) With Graham


61) The proud soldier


62) Army life


63) Army life


64) Army life


65) Army life


66) Army life


67) Army life


68) Army life


69) Army life


70) Army life


71) With Anne and Andrew


72) With Colin outside Arte


73) Working on the new summer house with James just before Christmas 2004


74) Outside the Pirinoa General Store December 28


75) At the Lake Ferry Hotel


76) Leaving Ngawi Fishing Village


77) Introducing Andrew to crayfish


78) Lake Ferry beach



79) On Eastbourne beach



80) On sentry duty Waiuru