TRIBUTE TO SHEP – John DeVal
Sue, Matthew and Miles have asked me to give one of the tributes to Shep today. It is a great privilege to be asked to do so. Sue also asked me to read a poem which was included in Shep and Sue’s Wedding Service and I shall start with this. It is called ‘The Last Love’

Oh, how, in the ending years
Is love more tender and superstitious --
O shine! O shine, my parting rays
Of the evening sun, of the last heart wishes!

The darkness cuts half of the sky;
And only the West has the roving glow,
Oh, time of evening, do not fly!
Enchantment, be prolonged and slow!

Yet blood in veins has a thinner staff,
But a heart preserves the gentle passion --
O you, my last and tender love,
You are my bliss and desperation.

Some of you may be wondering why there is a photograph of a mule on the front cover of the Service Sheet. So I had better tell you a story – a true story. There was once a lady called Elsie who had two grown-up daughters and a grown-up son. She decided to give them each a present of some money which they could spend on anything they liked as long as it reminded them of her. The two daughters spent their money on the kind of things that you would expect daughters to. The son bought a mule. The mule’s name is Muffin and is even now grazing in a field very near to this place. The son, of course, was Shep.

This village was an important part of Shep’s life and he played a very significant part in the life of the village. So much so that it is difficult to know where to start. So I will start at the top end of the village and work my way down.

Shep was a regular at the pub and he crops up in many stories. One occasion that is remembered vividly by those who were there occurred some years ago when a lady who had recently moved into the village made her first visit to the pub. She bore a striking resemblance to another lady who had moved away from Gidding. It would be easy to mistake the two of them for each other. Shep ,when he came in later in the evening easily made the mistake. He went straight across to the lady, put his arms around her and planted a resounding kiss on her lips, saying ‘How lovely to see you again’. As he withdrew from the clinch, the first signs of doubt could be seen spreading across his face. The lady on the other hand showed every sign of being pleased at such an unexpected welcome.

As I said, there are many more stories connected with the pub but it is time to move down Main Street to the Village Hall. For some years, Shep ran a weekly Youth Group in the Village Hall but it is the pantomimes held there that provide the most enduring memories. Shep was a leading light whether it was behind stage, in front of the stage or on the stage. He played a variety of characters and had a natural rapport with audiences of all ages, but he will be remembered most for his propensity to forget his lines at key moments, delighting the audience and prematurely ageing a succession of directors. Towards the end of his pantomime career he would still make a regular cameo performance with a pipe, window cleaning bucket, a George Formby song and the legendary packet of Sudso.

Just down the street from the Village Hall and just across the road from Crown Cottage is the Village School and Shep was caretaker there for many years. But with Shep, the school didn’t just get a caretaker, they got... well, they got Shep and he would turn his hand to anything that was needed.

Next to the School is this building in which we are saying our farewell. Shep spent many years on the Parochial Church Council and for a time he and I were both churchwardens together. I used to sign things, Shep used to repair things. That this church is in such good nick today is in no small measure due to Shep’s efforts over the years. Like all churchwardens he had his strengths and his weaknesses. Shep’s strength was his dedication, his Achilles heel were the occasional memory lapses. Both were illustrated by an occasion one bright, sunny September Sunday. The Church doors were wide open, inside Harvest Festival was just starting but there was no sign of Shep. Then suddenly in the middle of ‘We plough the fields and scatter’ came the unmistakable sound of a motor mower cutting grass in the churchyard just outside. It was of course Shep who had forgotten all about the service but was taking advantage of the fine weather to keep the Churchyard in good shape.

His knowledge of pub, school and church proved invaluable when he joined forces with Patrick Ellis to produce the Millennium History of Great Gidding. Patrick remembers how on his frequent visits to Gidding, Shep gave him a regular bed and fried breakfast and a visit to the Fox and Hounds. From his time at the school, Shep knew that hidden in the School Chest were Parish registers going back 250 years which gave valuable information and he laboriously cleared, interpreted and transcribed all the gravestones in the Churchyard. There was one history book of which Shep was more proud than the Great Gidding History and that was the Millennium History of Winwick which he produced himself and is still kept at the Fox and Hounds.

And so to the Recreation Field. Without Shep there would have been no pavilion and I am told he constructed its verandah himself. One of his great passions was cricket. He did not himself play often but while the rest of us indulged ourselves, bowling wides, dropping catches, getting out first ball, and retrieving the ball from neighbouring fields, Shep was doing all the unglamorous things, like cutting the grass, marking the pitch, rolling it flat (well nearly flat) putting up the portaloo, taking down the portaloo and scoring. He also looked after the kit, organised most of the matches and recruited the Gidding team. If we were short at 2.30pm a pressgang would be sent up to the pub. Most important of all he organised the tea and beer and we knew that he had made a hit with Sue when she started turning up to help him.

The most keenly contested matches were with the Peterborough Postmen captained by his then brother-in-law and those with the arch enemy Winwick. Shep had a very soft spot for Winwick and David Fowler will shortly tell us more about the Winwick connection.

However, before I close, I would like to return to the building we are gathered in today. To describe Shep’s contribution to the life of the Church in purely practical terms would be very misleading. Shep’s faith drew him into the spiritual life of the church. He would regularly lead prayers at the Eucharist, always having the happy knack of focussing on those areas where prayer was needed. For many years he led the Remembrance Sunday Service, a service which was very important to him. He brought a quiet dignity to the occasion and his addresses were a constant reminder of the debt we owed to the courage and dedication of the various branches of the armed forces.

Finally, on a personal level, for me, Shep provided a wonderful illustration that you can live a life full of service and devotion and have a great deal of fun at the same time. The memory of that example will live on.

John Deval

Address for Shep – David Fowler

Thank you Sue, Miles and Matthew for allowing us to have the opportunity to speak today about Shep and his long association with Winwick. We too feel a great sense of loss for someone that many of us have known for over 30 years.

In talking about Shep we remember him for his enthusiastic participation in many of the activities that we organise in the village and for his wonderful sense of humour.

We recall his attempts to become the “Winwick Village Idiot” and in particular his performance in the inaugrual 1992 competition. Prior to this date Winwick had its own resident village idiot in the form of David Capp who had held the post for over ten years. For the 1992 competition the number of eligible candidates was limited to seven. In the event of additional applications the Supervisory Quorum Undertaking Idiocy Training otherwise known as “SQUIT” were to adjudicate. We felt it very important to detail the functions of the village idiot and one of the main requirements was to be able to lean on a gate and stare generally.

Needles to say Shep was one of the candidates together with David Capp, Carol Neale, Glyn Popeley, John Adams, Mike Gibson and Ed the Duck. You will appreciate a high class field. The snapshot profile for David Capp made reference to his pedigree, and the fact that a vote for him would be a vote for idiocy continuity.”

For Shep the profile said, “a natural choice for any idiocy competition. The existing Great Gidding idiot anxious to extend his empire.” It continued ,... “With phrases such as, wind be getting up and wind be getting up the title could pass out of Winwick village.”
Just pausing there I need perhaps to explain that these were lines taken from one of the pantomimes held many years ago in Gidding. I think they were from Treasure Island and Sheps traditional greeting to me for many years after the performances was either, “wind be getting up” or “force some rum between his lips.” Taking part in a pantomime with Shep was fraught with danger as you never quite knew whether he was going to give you a silly look just as you were about to deliver a line central to the plot.
However, so far as the idiot competition was concerned Shep was not successful in 1992 nor when we ran the competition again. However, he was only talking last year about making another attempt at this years fete. We did however, feel that his efforts in 1992 merited a prize and we awarded him a golden brick suitably inscribed with felt tip pen appointing him an Honorary Winwick idiot . He seemed very happy and I understand it had pride of place on his mantelpiece for many years.

We also remember Sheps involvement in the annual Winwick versus Gidding cricket matches. Neither Ray Endersby, David Capp or myself can recall Shep being heavily involved in, “running between the wickets”. He would usually umpire and it was not uncommon for passing motorists on the B660 to see Shep standing behind the wickets, pipe in hand and a pint of beer strategically placed behind the stumps. He was always able to provide some witticism about how dire things must be in Winwick due to our lack of mains drains or our failure to have street lighting – Winwick is such a dreadful place used to be the line.

Shep was of course always ready to promote the superior literary standards that pertain in Gidding compared to those in Winwick. As John has said he was heavily involved in producing the book celebrating the Gidding millennium. It was very impressive and when I mentioned to him how good I thought it was he said, in all seriousness, that he “did not believe we could do a similar thing in Winwick as it involved writing”. And then with the Shep twinkle in the eye said that, “even if we managed to get over the bit that involved writing we would still have trouble with the reading.”

On another occasion when Shep and Glyn Popeley spoke about the Millenium book Shep said that if Winwick ever attempted a similar enterprise there would be a front cover and a back sheet and all of the pages in between would be blank.

Indeed Shep did produce A Millennium History of Winwick purporting to be compiled by his old adversary David Capp at a cost of 6 old pence. And sure enough it had a front cover, a back sheet and all of the pages in between are blank. We still have a copy in the village archives. He arranged for copies to be placed in the village shop and pub. David Capp was very surprised to be told of its existence and was even more surprised when he heard someone had tried to buy a copy, “because they had so much enjoyed reading the book on Giddings past.”

It was only right that we in Winwick should extract revenge and there are two occasions that we remember with affection,
The first time was when we were attempting to provide a path alongside the village hall and needed some money. As Winwicks sole purpose in life is to extract money from people in Gidding we decided to hold a kerbstone party to which all our friends from Gidding were invited and asked to contribute towards the cost of the kerbstones.

By the time Shep had dug deep into his pockets his comments ranged from, the kerbstones must have been made of gold, they were worth more than all of Winwick put together and that he and fellow residents in Gidding must have paid outright for the kerbstones let alone making a contribution.

The second event is very recent and occurred at the harvest supper in 2009. Shep was always a most welcome guest and had been attending for many years. He also used to bring his cheque book with him which is a serious error when visiting Winwick. On this occasion Shep had the previous week left his road atlas in the pub. This had been found by Bob Garner and David German who, quite rightly in the view of those of us who live in Winwick, resisted the urge to immediately reunite the atlas with its owner ie. Shep and instead decided that we wait until after the auction at the harvest supper. On the evening in question the auction started and we then introduced Sheps atlas for sale. Bidding was brisk helped along by those who were by now party to the conspiracy. Half way through the auction a voice shouts out, “that looks like my atlas” and the moment when Shep realized he had been done was pure joy. Revenge was indeed sweet. He paid the £15 or whatever it cost him to be reunited with his atlas with good humour and as they say in the trade, “a good night was had by all.” As we all admitted later we would have had to return the atlas to him in any event so that he could find his way home.

Shep of course never lived in Winwick but had he done so he would have been most welcome and I feel sure that we could have waived the passport and curfew requirements that we normally impose when dealing with people from Gidding.
And so today Shep we have to say goodbye. Thank you for the benefit of your friendship and for the joy and fun that you brought to us in Winwick over so many years. We shall miss you at our events and you will long be remembered with affection and love in the village. May you rest in peace.

David Fowler

Sue’s Memories of Shep – Deni Underwood

Sue and Shep. It’s hard to think of one without the other... but there was a time...

As a romance starter, Pie Night at the Fox and Hounds doesn’t sound the most obvious choice! Barrie and Tina took Sue, while Shep went with Mike and Anthea. Sue had until then thought Shep a weird pipe smoker with a dubious taste in headgear!

But he walked her home that night and asked ‘If, just if, I were to ask you out one night, would you go?’ Sue was equally equivocal ‘If, just if¸ you happened to ask me out, I might accept’. Several weeks later –( as you know Shep was not a man to be hurried) he did ask; they had their first date at the Bull and Swan in Stamford – and the rest is history.

Shep, old romantic that he was, kept so many anniversaries. The pie night, that first date, their first Valentine’s dinner, the list was endless. Shep was in love – and happy to show it

Neither knew much about the other’s life prior to Sue’s arrival in Gidding. So, often in their early days together, Shep would reminisce about his schooldays in Peterborough, his work with British Rail and BT, and the old White Lion crowd from Cambridge. Although some of those dear old friends have already left us, many are here with us today.

It was through Bentley, Sue’s fierce and watchful self-appointed guardian, that they first met. Sue and Shep chatted over the garden fence as Bentley attempted to tear it down to get to this man who had the cheek to talk to Bentley’s mistress!

As Sue and Shep grew closer so, amazingly, did Shep and Bentley. In time Bentley allowed Shep into the house without savaging him. Later, he graciously consented to live in Shep’s house. But in the early days, Shep hadn’t quite got the measure of Bentley. So when he took his table skittles round to No. 52 one evening (as you do) and suggested a game of ‘strip skittles’ he’d sort of forgotten about Bentley! Sue admits she cheated and only had to surrender her socks. Shep lost rather more clothing, then belatedly noticed that Bentley was transfixed by what was in front of him. Happily, Shep escaped unscathed!

Shep and Sue’s lives together were marked by many such stories and so much laughter – some of it slightly hysterical.

Sue’s descriptions of their holiday adventures sound like an episode from Keystone Cops:
On honeymoon, Shep struggling with driving on the ‘wrong’ side of the road in the hire car they’d picked up in Angoulême, couldn’t find the way out of town. ‘Follow that lorry’ shouted Sue and it worked. They found their route
Lost again in Rheims they’d gone round in circles for hours until Sue suggested that it might help if Shep stopped turning left at every junction and tried a right just for a change!
Then there was the night when, snug in the four-poster bed in their fairy tale honeymoon chateau, they listened to a massive thunderstorm overhead – and then the ceiling fell down on them. When they came downstairs the next day, somehow all their fellow residents had heard that this mature and respectable honeymoon couple had brought the house down!
On a holiday in Sardinia, Shep, still unhappy with driving on the right, stalled the car on a level crossing – with the gates down and the lights flashing!
In South Africa on safari, Shep, who was convinced he’d be eaten alive, left the bar one evening to smoke his pipe. When the warden saw him at the far end of the balcony, he called to Shep to come back. He walked back towards them, not noticing what everyone else did – that, following right behind him was a hyena. A classic ‘It’s behind you’ moment!
At home, too, they were never short of adventures.

Shep took Sue for a romantic day out – in Holyhead (don’t ask) where, in a grotty pub they got a lesson in fluent Anglo Saxon.
Out one evening, with Barrie and Tina, all dressed up, they had a crash and awaited the AA in Loughborough (since renamed Roughborough). Around them, suddenly a street fight broke out, people pouring out of houses, fists flying, stones thrown, riot police, the street cordoned off – while our four intrepid heroes cowered in the car. As Barrie later commented ‘another ordinary Saturday night out with the Shepherds’!
Shep, of course, was uncomfortable setting foot over even the Gidding/Winwick border so getting him to go to somewhere foreign was quite something. Shep didn’t do foreign.

But Sue gently introduced him to the delights of travel and he, because he loved her, stepped outside his comfort zone.

She modified his wardrobe, too. Sue says she never actually told him what to wear but just said ‘I’m not going out with you wearing that’! Gradually Shep became a bit trendy. And, although she never quite won the battle of his flat cap, Sue got rid of the hated trilby by the simple expedient of giving it to Bentley to shred. Shep bought another one.......it went the same way as the first! Woman works in mysterious ways!

When Sue moved in, she brought modernity to Crown Cottage. The terrapins went and things were radically upgraded. But, when she declared that Shep’s 40-year old gas cooker had to go, he found it hard. He took a picture of the cooker as it sat on the skip and sadly pasted it into his photo album!

Both loved animals. On honeymoon, they found two tiny sparrows, deformed and almost locked together with broken legs. Who else but these two would hope to rescue such tiny creatures? But carrying them in Shep’s hat, they found a vet who explained that there was no chance. Soft-hearted Shep insisted the birds be put down humanely.

He gave sanctuary in his workshop to Sue’s sick chickens. When Attila the Hen was sick, they wrapped her in a blanket and took her to the vet. As they unwrapped her on his table, Attila keeled over and died. Shep was outraged that he was still charged £20 consultation fee!

When Sue’s faithful Bentley died, both were distraught. But even here the story of their farewell has elements of farce. He was a big dog. So Shep dug a deep grave for him. Then he made a coffin for Bentley as they couldn’t countenance just putting him in the ground. Into the coffin, with Bentley, went Shep’s well-chewed trilby. Then they wheeled him down the garden. Big problem. The grave was such a close fit and Bentley’s coffin so heavy that they couldn’t lower it in. So, ever-inventive, Shep quickly made an A frame. Then he got the sit-on and a rope and, with the sit-on taking the strain and Sue manoeuvring the coffin, eventually Bentley was laid to rest. It took them four hours! Sue says ‘We couldn’t ask anyone to help as people already suspected we were both mad. This would just have confirmed it!’

That story hints at Shep’s borderline mad professor status. He was an inventor whose creativity knew no bounds. Over the last two years he designed and installed a new boiler system for the cottage - a work of genius, Sue said. Then, the following day, she called to say that the boiler had conked out the previous night! Nothing to do with Shep’s engineering skills, it just needed his magic touch.

Shep and Sue’s wedding day in June 2006, was one of those wonderful, joyous, village occasions that lives long in memory. It was a day of pure happiness. After lunch, as the bride prepared to greet their evening guests, she saw someone arrive sporting a black DA wig, skin tight jeans, a teddy boy jacket and brothel creepers. ‘Who is that idiot?’ she thought! Who else but Shep!!

There was another joyous day last October when little Theo was born. Shep was overjoyed to be a grandparent and who can doubt that the ‘mad professor’ would have been the most brilliant, slightly dotty, fun granddad just as he was a great, proud and loving dad. Matthew and Miles have lost their friend and mentor as well as their father.

Laughter and happiness blessed Sue and Shep’s lives together. Sue spoke of what she called ‘the sunshine of Shep’; she talked of how, if she were down, he would do a little dance or sing a song to cheer her up; of how nothing made him really cross (apart from losing his pipe or her three hours in the bathroom!); of how he would do anything for her.

From the day in December when they heard the awful diagnosis to the day Shep died, they had just eight weeks. They had expected more; they’d thought they might have the summer together. It wasn’t to be.

But, Sue says, Shep was the bravest man she knew. He faced his illness; he carried on as best he could. Through those eight weeks, of course they cried together, but they still laughed, too and they talked, endlessly, knowing time was short. But not knowing quite how short.

Even on the day before he died, Shep tended Sue’s horse, arranged Valentine’s roses to be delivered on the 14th, wrote her a Valentine’s card. Still, as ever, putting Sue first.

I asked Sue to sum Shep up in a few words. She said ‘He was the kindest, most generous, bigoted, open-hearted, grumpy, funny, lovely man I’ve ever known. I never loved anyone as I loved him.’
And, with all his family around him, even as he was slipping away, Shep was still able to whisper ‘I love you’ to his darling Sue.

Shep and Sue. Sue and Shep. Indivisible in all our hearts and minds. Theirs was, and remains, a wonderful love story.

How we will miss Shep.

And how fantastically lucky we all were to have known and loved him.

Deni Underwood on behalf of Sue Shepard