davejennings

A year without Dave

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It’s been a year to the day since I heard the news that one of my closest friends, Dave Jennings, had passed away suddenly.

It happened the day before he was due to play the role of the dentist in Little Shop of Horrors, so working with the same theatre group on Moby Dick this year brought back a lot of the memories from twelve months ago. Indeed, a page in this year’s programme was dedicated to him, appended with a quote from Terry Pratchett about death. It was rather cruelly ironic that Pratchett himself passed away last week as well.

Whilst I’ve lost friends and family before, Dave’s death affected more than any other. Part of it was its sudden nature; he hadn’t been ill, or been recently rushed to hospital. He was alive and well, then, a few minutes later, he wasn’t. The shock of it meant neither myself, Christine, nor our many mutual friends had any time to prepare for it emotionally like you do when someone is ill before they die.

But also, Dave was someone that I saw at least once every week. There are so many things that I used to do on almost daily basis suddenly had to be done without him. So his passing affected not just me, but many others who knew Dave so well.

Tonight, some of us will be having a few drinks to remember Dave, like we have on several occasions over the past twelve months. Because, for someone like Dave, one memorial just isn’t enough. I still miss him so much.

Dave Jennings – 1960-2014

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A photo of Dave Jennings at our wedding, holding a Mr Flibble penguin puppet

Last week I heard the very sad news that Dave Jennings, a very good friend of mine, had passed away from a heart attack outside his flat in Bradford.

I’ve known Dave for several years, initially through friends who were in the musicals society but since 2009 we have been on a regular pub quiz team together at the university.

Though originally from the Bradford area, Dave’s early career was in London, working as a music journalist for Melody Maker magazine. It was there that he reviewed a song by the band ‘Darlin’, which he described as a ‘daft, punky thrash’. Two of the former members of Darlin’, Guy-Manuel de Homem-Christo and Thomas Bangalter, went on to form Daft Punk, and the rest is history.

Melody Maker closed in 2000 and Dave returned north, eventually enrolling as a mature student on a course at the University of Bradford where I work. He graduated with a first class honours degree in 2006.

During his time at the university he was involved in both the theatre group and later the musicals society. Indeed, he was due to play the role of Orin Scrivello, the dentist in Little Shop of Horrors, but sadly he passed away before the last dress rehearsal. Thankfully, another member of the society stepped up and the show was performed as planned.

Outside of the university he has been a regular extra in the ITV soap opera Emmerdale, often in the background of the Woolpack having a drink. His acting showreel from 2009 is here to watch. And recently he had made a return to music journalism, doing some freelance articles for The Girls Are, and has learnt to play the banjolele, as evidenced in this video.

Dave was also a big geek, like me, particularly when it came to Doctor Who. In fact he shared a birthday with John Barrowman (Captain Jack) and Alex Kingston (River Song). For our wedding, where the photo was taken, he had a Mr Flibble hand puppet commissioned for us, which I’ve been using as my Twitter avatar for some time.

There have been few times over the past six days when I have not been reminded of Dave and the things that he did. Whether it was constantly beating me on Words with Friends with his superior vocabulary, talking about music or the latest Doctor Who episode, or our mutual enjoyment of the Steampunk subculture. Dave will be very much missed by both myself and his large group of friends. He was such a lovely and friendly person and a real shame that his passing has come so soon.

His funeral will take place this Friday, at Nab Wood Cemetery near Bingley, at 3:20pm.