Can I start by saying how very sad I am to be standing here today and delivering this speech, but how honoured I am to be able to. This is the time to celebrate the life of our best friend Dave and to share with you some of our happiest memories of him and I will do that with pleasure and pride.

 

 But nobody, I think can see this sad day as anything other than an absolute tragedy. That the life of such a decent and gentle soul has been taken away from us at such a very young age. I always wonder at the fairness of life at times like this. I ask why the really decent people in the world and Dave was certainly one of them do not get the chance to live out the life that they so clearly deserve. My heart goes out to Sharon, Carol, Fred and Audrey, to all Dave’s friends and family but most importantly to the wonderful little Daniel Morris who was his Daddies pride and joy.

 

 So Daniel, for you and everyone else here, I will tell you a few stories about your Dad, our Dave and for the last 15 years the brother I never had and maybe when you are a bit older, all of us can take you to some of the great places where we had great times together and climb one of your Dads favourite mountains.

 

 Dave and I started climbing together in the early 1990’s and we have been virtually inseparable since. Right from day one Dave amazed me with his natural climbing ability. He was one of the slightest blokes I have ever known (apart from me) but his physical and mental strength where second to none. He was the benchmark that Bruce, Stevie, Jean and I all strove to meet but never matched.

 

 Although he could climb with the best Dave was never really bothered about rope safety. We all had our roles, Jean safe and sensible, Bruce, Stevie, fit and dependable, me the comedian and Dave to drive us on further than we would normally go. I found out his rope skills 20 foot up a Blackburn climbing wall when I got stuck. I asked Dave to take the slack and he did just the opposite. I fell off and Dave, when realising I was rapidly descending on him decided to drop the rope and catch me, which he just about managed, but we both hit the deck hard and shared the bruises. I ended up wearing a huge rope burn on my face for weeks. Dave told me it gave me character and I was too much of a lady-boy anyway.

 

 Dave was about 30 when he had a tattoo done. At first he was insistent that he would have his beloved Man United crest on his arm till I pointed out that I would drop him off the next mountain we were on if he dared to take his top off. The next time we climbed indoors we went topless as always, our trademark, like a couple of The Red Hot Chillies but without the physiques. On his right shoulder for all to see was a black tattoo that simply read ‘NO FEAR’ I know no other person in the world who would have dared to do this other than Dave, but it was not a brag it was a fact. Dave simply had no fear when it came to climbing and pretty much anything else in his life.

 

 He added the ‘Pearl Jam’ lyrics ‘Alive’ to his back later. The words ‘son have I got a little story for you’ where for all the things that he wanted to share with Dan when he was older. We, his friends will tell you those tales for him now.

 

 Dave’s 'no fear' was demonstrated early on when climbing in Wilton Quarries. Dave had been working and arrived later than the rest. I had Simon Butler on a rope and Dave said, stripping to his trademark baggy shorts “What routes have you done Chris?” I pointed out 2 or 3 climbs that we had done using rope and protection and turned my attention back to Simon. The next thing I heard was a shout from above. It was Dave about 50 feet up a sheer rock face with no protection and a puzzled look. “What did you do when you got to this part?” he asked me. “I don’t know bro” I replied, “ we haven’t tried that one yet!” Dave shrugged a shoulder, lunged a further 6 feet up the face and grabbed a handhold finishing the climb with a flourish. I did all the sweating for him watching. Dave just gave me a cheeky grin and sat basking in the sun offering others advice.

 

 We had silly routines on climbing trips that sometimes infuriated others. We always insisted on listening to ‘The Bay FM’ when going to Cumbria. The cheesiest radio station ever! And we would play ‘The Doors’ loudly turning up the volume at key points when Jim Morrison screamed, if anyone looked like falling asleep in the back of the car.

 He once drove a transit van over the ‘Hard Knox Pass’ at night in the rain and we got stuck on a hairpin bend due to the angle of the road. To reduce weight I got out and Dave reversed around the bend, and then flew off up the hill leaving me stranded in the rain. He drove to some less steep section some distance away and watched me trudge up the hill, soaking wet without a coat. “Sorry about that” was as good as I got.

 

 Racing each other down mountains in the early days because the pubs shut at 2.30 and later because we made it our big competition. On one occasion I was actually winning, Blencathra I think. Dave was trying to catch up but at a pace too fast for his legs to catch up. I was stood by a small river chatting to a nice family having a picnic, seated and content. Dave appeared around the corner completely out of control, with arms wind milling he could not stop and fell smack into the centre of the river. A wall of water cascaded over the family and their picnic. Dave stood up dripping and said “Sorry about that” to the family before we set off running again. Again he shrugged and grinned and off he went with his lopsided run with me laughing behind him.

 

 We liked to push ourselves as much as we could and did ‘The National Three Peaks Challenge’ a number of times. Dave was always fitter than me and decided to run down ‘Ben Nevis’ even though we had two other mountains and a further 19 hours ahead of us. But Dave had a secret weapon. That guy can sleep on a 50 pence piece. Even sat in the back of a car with sweaty climbers and believe me Andy’s armpits are quite something when he has been on a mountain!. Dave could sleep and be fully refreshed for the next challenge. He even fell asleep once when we stopped for a drink of water on the way off ‘Snowdon’. In the time that it took to take off my rucksack, Dave was lying on his back on the floor with his mouth open and rain dripping off his face. How he did this I will never know.

 

 Bruce, Dave and I decided to run ‘The Yorkshire 3 Peaks Race’. Bruce wont mind me telling you that he had had enough with 5 miles to go. Dave stayed with Bruce and I ran on thinking at last I might beat him. I looked around after a while and saw about a mile behind me Dave’s head bobbing along in pursuit. I put on a push but he kept gaining on me. Finally I came across a field of agitated cows and their calves. They decided to chase me. I began to panic as my legs began to give up and fell over a fence just in time before I was caught by the angry bovines. I took a breather just to see Dave vault over the wall, his speed also increased by the angry cows. He sped off into the distance leaving me resigned, beaten again but always by the better man.

 

 The climbing group grew and shrunk in time but by 2000 we had Dave, Jean-Paul Bruce and even Andy and Jon coming along. The final member Stevie came along when we all decided it would be a good laugh to do ‘Mont Blanc’ in the Alps. Now everyone stopped sleeping well when Stevie joined us, a snore like a warthog but not our Dave. The memories of that trip are vivid and we all have so many pictures of our little ‘Stone Monkey’ grinning always from ear to ear. Even in the most ferocious weather and after the hardest climbs.

 

 Then came the notorious ‘Water Bottle Incident’ in conditions in the mountains that can only be described as like living on a slave ship. Stevie called the ‘Tex Ruisse Mountain Hut’ ‘The Amstad’ and we all agreed.

One of our mountain guides opened a window at about 2 in the morning to get us some air. This resulted in a flurry of snow falling over some pompous and rather narked French climbers who through our guides water bottle out of the window. A fight at 12,000 m in the pitch black is quite an experience and we all pitched in with relish. The French left in disgust at us ‘Heathen’ English and tried to summit earlier than planned. We where all delighted to meet them on their way back down when bad weather meant that they did not make it.

 

 Bruce shared the honour of summiting Mont Blanc with Dave. He remembers that on reaching the summit Dave wanted one photograph more than any other. Holding a picture of his then baby son Daniel.

 The devoted Dad as always.

 

 Stevie and I met Dave on the last leg up. He slapped me on the back and gave me encouraging words like “You are nearly there” and set back down the hill with the air of the most contented man I have ever met. We discovered that we where not nearly there and Dave was hiding the facts from us. The truth in all this is that me and Dave always knew what the other was thinking. He looked at me, saw I was knackered on that hill and encouraged us both on in a way he knew would work. We both got to the top.

 

 I could read Dave like a book, every slight leg tremor when he was on a rope indicated to me that he was thinking and he the same as me. We anticipated each other’s next move with total knowledge and confidence. This extended to all our group both in the mountains and off. We where like a band of brothers, sometimes cruel in our humour but always there for each other in times of need. Dave took a central roll in a reserved non-judgemental way.

 

 Dave was quieter than the rest of us and contemplated more. I was the comedian and always talked a better climb than I ever did. Dave just did it and did it well and could quietly bask in our admiration. But the truth of it is, Dave did not seek glory. He didn’t care about that just like his own Dad. He only competed against himself getting better and enjoying sharing the experience with good and close friends. All of us admired him greatly.

 

 Dave’s second pleasure in life was how to party and boy did we know how to have a good time. Dave, Andy, John and I would often disappear into the night with never a clear plan of what would happen but just know that we would have a scream. With escapades like driving to a quiet country pub in Dave’s BWM 325i convertible with the lid off in summer, all wearing tight vest tops and singing the song 'Gay Bar'at the tops of our voices. The expressions on the faces of the old couples enjoying a quiet half pint were priceless.

 

 I remember a similar occasion driving through Manchester but this time all packed into a Citroen Saxo. All the windows wound down, dressed in a similar way singing at the tops of our voices “Planet Earth” by Duran Duran much to the amusement of the local constabulary. Not !!!

 We would end up in Rock World or Sankey Soaps or get bored and go back to Bolton, but wherever we were there would always be a crowd around us. Our joint enthusiasm was infectious as a group and we were always ready to laugh and share that. Never EVER a dull day had.

 

 One of our favourite escapades involved having to pretend you were someone else from the group for the entire night. Not only did you have to use their name and life but all their mannerisms as well for the night.

 On one occasion I had to be Dave for the night and he had to be me. Andy and Jon swapped over. Andy had to try to collect girls phone numbers all night and Jon had to dance like a maniac and bounce enthusiastically from group to group.

 I had a love for 70’s disco and Dave liked Rhythm and Blues, both hate the other. I made Dave go into Tiger feet, a 70’s theme bar and dance to Barry White and the Rubettes, while I had to stand by the dance floor and pretend to be miserable, looking at my watch all the time.

 He got his own back by making me stay on the ground floor of J2's nightclub dancing to Justine Timberlake and 50 Cent whilst the others all laughed at my discomfort.

 

 Dave’s illness came very quickly and shocked us all. Dave, as usual took it all with a shrug of his shoulders and a bring it all on attitude. We really thought that if anyone in the world could beat this illness then it would be him, but unfortunately we were wrong. But my god did he not give up!!! Ever!! and fought with strength and resilience to keep going for Daniel and Sharon. I am so glad that in the week before he died he had Daniel with him and shared precious time. Time – the most precious of all things!!

   

 The last time I saw Dave was in hospital a few weeks ago. Jon, Sharon and her mum were all with him and Dave, as usual had a smile on his face but he was tired and ill.

 He went to look out of the window and I joined him. With arms around each other and heads pressed together we shared a few words and much silence. But that was Dave’s way. We didn’t need to speak.   That gesture spoke enough. That we loved and cared for each other, that we were brothers, on and off the mountain, and that nothing would change that.

 

 And now to Sharon, I leave you till last. You are a wonderful woman who nursed Dave without question and loved and supported him in such difficult times. All here look at you with admiration and I think I speak for all of us close to you in saying we are proud to be your friend.

 

 And to Neil, Dave’s Boss at work. We all know what you did to help Dave, in work and out and making sure he was looked after throughout. His family and friends who did not know you thank you now.

 

 So now we have to ensure Dave’s memory lives on in all of us. I truly believe in a quality of life rather than one of great length. Dave crammed more into his years than most people achieve in twice his allotted time.

 Dave has a legacy in Daniel that must be nurtured. Your father, Daniel was a wonderful human being, quite simply on of the best. A loving father, a fighter, a brave and trusted gentleman, who quite literally had no fear even at the end.

 

 Jean-Paul said to me it was important that all his mountain friends got to carry Dave today. We wanted that last walk to be up a mountain, but Jean was right. At least we were all together for one last time.

 

 Dave, I hope you are sitting up there now, watching us, with those bandy legs dangling off some rock face, and with a bottle of bud in your hand.

 

 Till we climb again Bro, take care, and please try to learn some rope work mate. And tell me that R&B is banned in heaven!!!

 

Love, your Band of Brothers

 

Yo Bro.