The Death of David Halliwell

Today I was at the funeral of David Halliwell. A room full of writers, actors, and directors. He was my mum's cousin, and although I did meet him when I was about 12, I don't really remember. The service described him as an artist, a writer, a producer, an actor, a director and a poet (as well as many others). I get the impression he was the archetypal eccentric artist. Upon being told by his head master to wear his school raincoat David proceeded to put it on...and not to take it off again, even in summer. His mother had to hide it from him in the end. He had a pet frog as a boy that he made a small waistcoat for, and his pet dog would walk down to Brighouse and then get the bus back by himself. (Quite how a dog would do this wasn't explained.)

I guess we should spend as much time with as many people as possible because one day they will be laying in a coffin about 20 feet from you. And they will be dead. And you won't have the chance to say hello ever again.

An obituary from The Guardian newspaper can be found here: http://arts.guardian.co.uk/news/obituary/0,,1736306,00.html