Eulogy given by Paul Herring on 23rd May 2022

Welcome

Thank you all for coming today to help celebrate my Dad’s life. It is heartwarming to see so many familiar faces, each of us touched by Dad.

So who was John? To me, of course, he was my Dad, the best Dad any child could want. He was my champion for my whole life. I feel blessed to have had the privilege of his love, support and guidance for so long. No matter the situation, Dad was always ready to listen and help. He never judged, always listened. Many of you have told me how much you trusted and admired Dad. He offered wise and discreet advice, but only when asked. I have come to appreciate he was a mentor to so many. 

He was an accomplished businessman but also took pride in his family and working in his house and garden. As my good friend Tim has pointed out “a boiler suite fitted him just as well as a three-piece”. 

Early life

Dad was born in 1935. He was the only child of Arthur Herring and Doris Huskisson. Dad lost his Mum to illness when he was only 16. He and his Dad lived in North London through the blitz, where he used to sleep under the stairs to shelter from the bombs. 

He earned a place at Preston Manor grammar school, where he met Pamela, the love of his life. 

He did two years national service with the RAF before going to Acton university on a sandwich course with ICI. His parents had not been enthusiastic about Dad going to university, but he was inspired by his chemistry teacher at Preston Manor and went on to read Chemistry. He confessed later that he should have read PPE. Dad was an intellectual at heart. He loved examining issues and political debate. He was an avid reader of The Economist. 

Family life

My parents loved each other very much and they created a warm nurturing environment to grow up in. Later in life, I thanked Dad for providing me with an ideal upbringing. He was my role model in every way.

As a child, I recall hiding behind Dad’s chair when the scary bits of Dr Who or Star Trek came on the tele. I also recall having many games of chess with him. At first, he would pretend to lose, but as I got better, he’d work harder to beat me.

I have lots of fond memories of Dad. When Kathleen, Mark and I were kids, Mum and Dad used to take us on family picnics. We’d have sandwiches, and hard-boiled eggs, which Dad would gently crack on the dog’s head. That would make us laugh.

One day Kathleen asked Dad what he did at work. He said, “I tell people to get on with the job.” Whenever anyone asked Kathleen what Dad did for a living, that is what she told them. “He tells people to get on with the job.”

I used to wash Dad’s car for pocket money on weekends. When I was done, he would come and inspect my work and point out a few bits I’d missed, or where the water had left streaks on the glass. He’d say, “Paul, if a job’s worth doing, it’s worth doing properly” and have me continue until he was satisfied.

His work ethic was to be admired. He’d commute up to London on the train and get back home exhausted, often after the rest of the family had finished dinner. He would often share stories of his exploits at work or commuting. I recall one occasion when Dad was taking a crowded train home from Waterloo. He left his paper on his seat to go and get a drink from the bar car. When he returned, he was dismayed to find the chap opposite had taken his paper and was reading it. Dad glared at the guy the whole way to Milford but did not confront him. Upon exiting the train, he realized his original seat was one carriage further on and his paper was still lying there.

He was very even tempered and rarely raised his voice, although as kids, I’m sure we tested his patience! I remember one night I was sleeping on the top bunk with my arm hanging down. Mark was sleeping underneath. Mark pulled on my arm and I fell out of the bunk with a loud crash. Dad came in and gave me a stern talking to for making such a racket. 

Career

Dad had a rich, varied and fulfilling career that took him all over the world. He loved exploring different cultures and places. In the 60s he spent three years in Nigeria opening a paint factory for ICI. At the official opening, all the local dignitaries were there for a cocktail reception dressed up to the nines. I remember Dad telling me how someone had accidentally pressed the wrong button on one of the machines which lifted a spinning paint stirrer, covering everyone with non-drip gloss!

Dad returned with the family back to England in the mid 60s before a switch to management consulting. He joined Urwick Orr and Partners who sent him to Johannesburg for a three-year tour. 

He was a strong advocate of MBO (Management by Objectives) and applied this rigorous approach to problem solving to many parts of his life, as well as in helping others. 

We had some wonderful times in South Africa, including some wonderful Safaris and drives through the mountains. Dad liked classical music, jazz and some popular music. I remember him listening to Abbey Road by The Beatles, Harpers Bizzarre, Bert Kampfert, Eartha Kitt, Simon and Garfunkel and Cat Stevens when we were on driving holidays through the Drakensburg mountains. 

Back in England in the 1970’s Dad took at job with Gallagher’s and led the startup of new businesses for the group. He started up a travel company and clothing company based in Hong Kong. I could tell he thrived on the excitement and the energy level.

Retirement

Dad retired and moved with Mum to the south of Spain in the 80’s where they enjoyed an active social life. Dad would play tennis and swim. Mum and Dad would often be found relaxing at an outdoor table of a local café in San Pedro sampling their coffee and pain au chocolat. Dad described this time as “The golden years” of his life.

Later in life, Dad was diagnosed with Parkinson’s. It is a cruel disease which slowly robbed Dad of his mobility and ultimately his life. Mum and Dad moved back to England to be closer to the family. The last few years have been particularly hard on Mum as Dad’s primary caregiver. Even when Dad was at his lowest, he never ceased to ask how Mum was, and to check that she had everything she needed. He was a selfless, caring man.

Closing

Dad told me once that happiness has been likened to a butterfly – chase it, and it will fly away. Sit calmly, and it may well alight on your hand. Dad, you inspired and helped so many of us. We are confident that your butterfly found you and blessed you with as much joy as you gave to others.

The world is a sadder place without John in our lives. But he touched each and every one of us and has left us with memories we will cherish forever.

Dad, Thank you for everything! You were the best!