Obituary - David Hardisty

Obituary – David Hardisty

From the Chairman

In Memory of David Hardisty

We are deeply saddened to share the news that David Hardisty passed away on Monday, 4th August 2025.

For over two decades, David was a dedicated and ever-present volunteer at the Norfolk and Suffolk Aviation Museum. After moving to the area in search of something to occupy his time, we were incredibly fortunate that he chose to offer his talents and energy to the museum.

David quickly became a central figure in the Chippie’s Workshop, where his carpentry skills helped shape much of the museum as we know it today. He was responsible for crafting many of the display cabinets, carrying out essential repairs across the site, and coming up with clever and practical solutions to protect the museum’s fabric from the elements.

In later years, David could often be found manning the bric-a-brac stall on open days, engaging warmly with visitors and making everyone feel welcome. Ever the early riser, he was usually the first to arrive—always making sure the tea-urn was on, so the rest of us could start the day with a hot cup of tea or coffee.

David’s love of cars was well known, and true to form, he often had more than one vehicle to choose from when making his way to the museum.

But more than any of this, David was a true friend to everyone here. His corner of the workshop — affectionately dubbed “Dave’s Café” — was a place of camaraderie, laughter, and light-hearted chat. The good-natured banter and the warm welcome you’d find there were as much a part of the museum as any exhibit.

David will be greatly missed by all of us. His skill, humour, and kindness made a lasting impact, and—as the saying goes—he’ll be a hard act to follow

Steve B

Funeral Arrangements

Please be aware that David’s funeral arrangements have now been notified as follows:

Day and Date: Friday 22nd August 2025
Time: 1500
Location: Waveney Memorial Park and Crematorium, Warrens Lane, Benacre Road, Ellough, Beccles, Suffolk NR34 7XE (01502 477200)
The Wake will be held afterwards at the museum.

Gary

From the Team

David – As The Chippies Knew Him

Dave could be hard-working, irascible, rude, generous, and helpful all at the same time.

His greeting to anyone who dared come into the Chippies Workshop, particularly if he didn’t know them, was always challenging. Even if you knew him well, like we did, his greetings could be anywhere from pleasant to profane. And yet, despite all the noise, he would do almost anything for other volunteers who came calling. It was his way of declaring that this was his domain, and volunteers came in on his say-so.

He gave generously: he let us use his tools of which he had bought in large quantities. The joke was that when it came to power tools, it was always the last one he was going to buy – until the next one. He let others borrow his tools and always chased after people who had not returned them, or in some cases, those he mistakenly thought hadn’t returned them. Many people who came to borrow tools probably didn’t realise that they were his, not the “firm’s” (as he called it), which was why he may have appeared to jealously guard them. But it was a rare event for him not to lend them what they wanted.

Dave ran the workshop tea “cafe” and probably subsidised it heavily. He made sure we never ran out of tea, milk, and “sugar,” his super-strength version that always surprised the sweet-tea drinkers. Coffee he left to others if they wanted it, and sometimes he ran to biscuits – rich tea and digestives mainly, though if anyone else brought other biscuits he’d maybe have one. He asked for donations to his tea fund, muttering about those who didn’t cough up but never denied anyone a drink. He was partial to homemade cake, particularly those cooked by Sylvie.

Dave liked precision, and once he had settled on dimensions, that is what he built. He built strong things that didn’t fall apart. Time, weather, small children, and the vagaries of museum life eventually wore them down. But taking apart his old masterpieces takes almost as much time as he took to build them. He built what he felt ought to be built once the specification had been given. They weren’t just strong: they were heavy – 2″x 2″ was his favourite material. Dave didn’t do delicacy: for the Museum, strong and heavy was what he felt was needed, so that’s what he built. Whenever other Chippies said the immortal words “that’ll do” Dave would utter a scathing “Butchers!”, and stalk over to see what we’d done.

While Dave did make lots of display cabinets and other items for exhibiting artefacts, his favourites seemed to be the climb-on toys for the children. He once said that there was nothing for the kids, so he set about providing something. He accepted the destructive power of children at play as a challenge to build something stronger and more long-lasting each time one came in for repair. A testimony to how right he was is the popularity of the ride-on Red Arrows. He extended this creativity by building some ride on toys for the museum to sell for its funds. He would boast that sometimes the Chippies Workshop generated the most income.

Dave was old school, and old things, to him, held their value. He thought everything was saleable from a bag of rusty screws to a pipe bending tool or an old faded picture in a hideous frame. He would put a price on it because it was for museum funds. Everything found its way to the bric-a-brac where he and Morris would sit like a couple of book-ends, and when people stopped to chat, he always had the time to exchange a few words. He used to love it when people brought their dogs along to museum, and was always interested in discussing them.

Latterly, as his physical abilities deserted him, Dave wanted to do more than his body would let him. He’d sit back, making tea, offering advice, trying to do things, but it was always a struggle. Dave’s ghost will haunt the workshop, not literally but in our minds. Because almost every tool we use and how we build things has Dave written all over it. He will be missed.