David Cox was born on 7th April 1934 in one of the cottages in Hawridge Lane. John Page’s dad Ted used to have a farm here and this was more commonly known to family as John Page’s Lane in later years.

The family moved to Ramscote lane in 1935 after Grandad Harding gave up some land so that they could build a 4 bedroom bungalow. This cost the princely sum of £400. 

He was related to Grace Martin who lived at Bonderlea and Alice Potter who lived at Johnson’s Farm. As these were his aunts the family connection goes back over 100 years to the village. Johnson’s farm was originally owned by Grandad Harding.

David moved back to the family home in 1987 after the death of both parents. This is still owned and lived in by family members.

Always keen to involve himself and family in village activities, they used to help at the fete by setting up a petting zoo and organising pony rides for the children.

Dave, and latterly younger members of the family, looked after the village playing field and children’s play area, keeping the grass and hedges tidy.

If you wanted to know anything, he was the person to go to as he knew pretty well everyone in the village, most of what was going on and could always be relied upon for advice and guidance on matters of local interest.

Dave told of the time during the last war when a Bomber crashed in the fields between Two Gates Lane and Bank Green, now commemorated by a plaque, and the local bobby had to warn the boys not to raid the crash site for mementos. He also pointed out a bomb crater in the field to the left of Two Gates Lane, behind the village hall. 

A genuine ‘character’, Dave was involved in a lot of daft escapades done over a lifetime. One that I recall was seeing Dave, in the process of carrying out a local removal with grandson Martin, and deciding to recline at leisure in the armchair on the back of his open truck with Martin driving, doing his royal wave as they went through the village.

Never one for health & safety, Dave actually managed to get run over by his own tractor in 1995 and, despite a long stay in hospital, happily lived to tell the tale and getting Tommy (the old family horse) to bring him home whilst laying drunk in the cart behind. Try doing that these days!

He worked for Chesham Urban District Council as a dustman for most of his life and was also a gritter driver during the winter. Managing to overturn a new truck whilst working for the council, he complained that it was because the road had not been gritted properly but vigorously denied that it was his stretch of road!

He was always available to help around the village with odd jobs such as gardening, mowing and removals in his spare time and could always be relied upon for the latest gossip and anecdotes.

Coming down Amersham Hill one day he had to give way to the fire engine and said “some poor bugger has got fire”, arriving home 10 minutes later to find that it was his house in Nashleigh Hill and the dog would not let the fireman in! Fortunately it was only a chimney fire. 

Later in life, despite finding it difficult to drive following his accident, he could be seen going around the village on his mobility scooter so as not to lose touch and was always sat at the front for the annual carol services at Huge Farm.

The tradition of service and involvement in the community is continued by the Field family. Amongst other activities, son-in-law Alf chairs the village hall committee and the family continues the proud tradition started by Violet Cox, David’s mother, of house-to-house poppy sales throughout the village. 

Anne Coney, who set up and ran the local Riding for the disabled charity at Bank Farm for very many years, offered this recollection:

“David worked for me for over 45 years when I lived at Bank Farm. He was someone I could trust and call for help at 3am and he would turn up smiling. He always called my daughter Julia ‘Julie’ and on occasions would pick her and her sister up from Berkhamsted School in his old van, replaced each year with another which would also fail the M.O.T.! 

He was a big man and the only person I know who was driven over by his own tractor and was alive to tell the tale and a proud grandfather who would always have a grandchild, usually scantily clothed, with him in his truck. Near the end of his life he would pop in for a chat and a cuppa and be licked to death by my border collie Max.

It was an honour and pleasure to call him my friend. Going to the crematorium in his old pick-up just confirmed his love of life and fun. Hope this helps to put a picture together of this exceptional man. 

The world is a richer place for characters like Dave and for those of us lucky enough to have known him, he is sadly missed.

With thanks to Alf & Sally Field and Anne Coney