The death of David Vance.

David Vance died on the 10th August 1960. I was born 7 months earlier.

The David Vance I am talking about was my Grandfather after whom I am named. In short, were it not for that David Vance, you would not be reading this!

I still look after the Vance family grave in a quiet little churchyard and I always find it strange standing at that grave - seeing my name. It’s peaceful there, so quiet. It encourages reflection and although he has been dead for 65 years, I still think about him.

You see I never got to know my Grandfather, I was too young. However I had a close relationship with my Grandmother, who I consider the single greatest influence on my young life. When I became a Grandad in 2020, I remember a sense of angst, thinking I might also die before my first granddaughter would know me. Seems silly but history can repeat itself on occasion but happily it didn’t!

I am now four grandkids in and they are ALL over the feared seven month gap!

Although I never knew him, I knew of David Vance. He was a humble man and a quiet man so I obviously didn’t take all my traits after him! I have old photos of him and I look at them and wonder “What were you really like, Granda, what were the things that drove you?” Like me, he had two children, both boys. His DNA is in me and since I am named after him, I feel a draw to him. I suppose had he not died before I knew him, it would not seem so mysterious to me. Even after all these years, I feel a debt to him and hope that if he knew me he would be proud of this David Vance.

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