A eulogy delivered by Keith Wilson Clarke, his son, on the occasion of his funeral on the 13th April, 2007.

You will all be aware that the last few years have been tragic ones for my father and my mother. Dad’s catastrophic strokes robbed him of nearly everything he held dear in life. He loved to chat to people, he loved to travel, he loved his food and he loved a glass of wine and all of that was taken from him.  Life became a torment.  At last, he is able to be at peace and I thank God for that release.

However, I don’t stand here today to mourn Dad’s passing or bemoan his final years but to celebrate his life – his full and rich life - and to remember the very special man he was and the happiness that he brought to so many people.

He had an inauspicious start.  He left school at 14 with no apparent prospects.  He started with next to nothing and everything he ended up with, he built and created for himself.  He never had a “comfort zone” and his continual drive for self-improvement was inspirational.

As a young man of 17, he was sent away to war. For years he fought hard campaigns through North Africa & Italy and was wounded twice. However, he came away, not with bitterness over a stolen youth or hardened by his experiences.  Instead he returned from the war with lifetime friendships established with Jack Clapham and Ron Ely (They were the three musketeers!) and he found an eternal companion in my mother, a bren-gun toting ATS girl from Warley barracks. He also discovered during the war that he had a skill with languages and became the camp translator for his mates. This love of languages and Italy stayed with him throughout his life and coloured everything he did.

He was one of the first to take advantage of the post-war trend of going abroad for holidays and when others were having a week in a holiday camp in Yarmouth, he was setting off on marathon journeys, driving his family through France and across the Alps into Italy, (in later years, towing a speedboat).  We ended up knowing garage mechanics the length and breadth of Europe! (We had so many breakdowns in so many languages!) On a personal note here, he had the enormous courage to send me off alone across Europe at the age of 13 to spend a month with the family of an Italian mechanic and that was where I discovered the joys of communicating in a foreign language myself and it set me on the road for my future career. Thanks again Dad!

Once again, a man ahead of his time, and spurred on by Mediterranean influences, he set about introducing exotic new dishes to all and sundry. Remember, this was in the days when the standard fare in England was all bland flavours and boiled vegetables, spam and a tired lettuce leaf. I can remember him dashing around specialist shops in Soho to find unheard of delicacies, (commonplace today), like red peppers, garlic, capers, olive oil and red wine and with these he hosted countless dinner parties, preparing home-made pizzas, spaghettis and tossed salads.  In fact, everything you find today in Sainsbury’s, my Dad was cooking 40 years ago.  The world has finally caught you up Dad!

And what impressed me was that nothing was ever too much or too difficult. If he had prepared a dinner for four and two others turned up at the doorstep at the last minute – no problem – just a big welcoming smile and a flurry of activity in the kitchen and he pulled a meal out of the hat that looked like it had always been meant for six. I wish I could do that!

He was a man of vision and a great exponent of Do-It-Yourself.  He never walked into a new house without immediately deciding which walls had to go and where the extension would be.  I have fond (if not warm) memories of a particular winter at the end of the 60s.  It was just after Christmas and father had decided the back wall of the house just had to go so that we could extend the lounge. As soon as the last brick had fallen, sub-zero temperatures set in (a proper winter, not like today) and it was too cold to lay cement for the foundations.  So, no problem; we lived in my bedroom for a couple of months until the weather warmed up. We got used to wearing jumpers and enjoying the air conditioning and the view of the garden was stunning!

The new enlarged lounge and an industrial strength kitchen allowed Dad to pursue his other great loves in life, cooking and entertaining.  He loved a party, but mostly, he loved hosting a party!

I can’t talk about my father without also talking about my mother.  They are Ying and Yang, eggs and bacon, they just go together and can’t be imagined apart.  My father built many things in his life, but nothing stronger or more true than the marriage that he forged with the constant help, support and companionship of my mother.  This was a marriage made in heaven that lasted for very nearly 60 years.  And throughout that time, they have been everywhere and done everything together; inseparable, constant companions and clearly, obviously very much in love with each other. Modern world take note and copy that if you can!

There is much to celebrate in the life of Jim Clarke, much to remember and much to be thankful for.  My father touched the lives of everyone here. That’s why you are here today, and my mother and I take comfort in knowing that as long as you draw breath, you will remember the vibrant, happy, generous man that he was and in that way, he will remain with us – in our hearts and in our fond memories.

What can you say about a man like Jim Clarke? – I take my hat off to you Dad.  You are an inspiration to us all.  Thank you for being there.  Thank you for your warmth, your friendship and your generosity. Thank you for making life better.

 He was a talented photographer and in heavy demand. He ended up working long hours and often at weekends.   In fact, when he finally gave up the business and moved into semi-retirement, he set up a small studio in an industrial unit in Chadwell Heath and tried to just do a little bit to keep his hand in and raise some pennies. I was soon hearing complaints from my mother that they were having to work weekends again to keep up with the volume of work that was coming in!  He was just too good for his own good!

And then, when he finally retired, when most people reach for their slippers and the Daily Telegraph, he did something extraordinary.  He saw an opportunity to live a dream.  A man of vision and great daring once again.  He sold everything (his house, his car and most of his possessions) bought two bicycles, put all his remaining worldly goods into the panniers and set off with my mother for a cycling tour of France and Italy.  They were gone for a year.  They did a complete tour of France and reached La Spezia in Northern Italy before my mother finally put her foot down and they returned for Christmas. (I think, left to himself, he would have carried on and been half way to China before we got him back!)

And when a dear friend was looking for a venue for a 25th Wedding Anniversary party, without hesitation, he took it on and hosted it at home; set up trestle tables in the lounge and produced a cooked three course meal for over 50 people!

His annual New Year’s parties for neighbours and friends were legendary and people would travel miles to be there.  It was the only place to be on New Year’s Eve for the best part of 25 years.  We often counted over 70 guests and they jitter-bugged the night away and left at dawn. Happy days!

A self-made man, he built a successful career from nothing.  When he left the army he taught himself photography and then commercial photography and ended up running a studio that employed 20 people.