Tribute to Arthur Finch

Thank you all for your love and prayers.....

Here was my personal tribute to Arthur at his funeral last week...

Tribute to Arthur Finch at the Thanksgiving for his life,     11^th September 2007

It may not be so usual for a wife to stand and give tribute to her late husband at his funeral, but over the last 30 years that I’ve known Arthur, I’ve been privileged to witness how he touched the lives and hearts of many; they include his university colleagues at home and abroad, members of our charity Greyhounds in Need, friends in his church here, and of course family members and neighbours. Your sentiments, expressed in the 100 or so cards, letters and messages I’ve received from very different aspects of his life, some even in Spanish, Italian, French and German, consistently speak of his kindness, thoughtfulness, selflessness, reliability, loyalty, gentlemanliness and easy going, cheerful manner.

They speak especially of his knack of welcoming and making newcomers immediately feel at home, a fact still fondly remembered by the staff of Bedford and Chelsea colleges at the stressful time of their merge here with Royal Holloway. It is with that same easy manner that he greeted and attracted the public at events promoting the work for the greyhounds. Many have said how indebted they are to Arthur for his professional encouragement and for having set them up in their careers. His generosity extended even beyond the department of chemistry to sharing with them the secrets of Royal Holloway’s vast and wonderful campus; where, for example, to find the mulberry tree, the elderflowers and the quinces… all passed and ignored daily by thousands of students and staff. He was a familiar figure on the campus, walking with his dogs to his office at exactly the same time each day. His postgrad and post doc students from Saudi Arabia, Iraq and China etc learned it was perfectly normal to be tutored in the company of dogs.

Whilst his frailty of the last year may sadden us and dominate our present thinking, we shouldn’t forget the true Arthur as he was in his prime with 50 years of a successful and enjoyable career as a scientist.  He frequently said how lucky he was to have had such a happy upbringing and youth, and that someone even paid him to pursue his hobby, chemistry.

He took his skills a step further, cultivating invites to lecture or to act as examiner or as visiting professor at universities and other establishments in every part of the globe, the more obscure, and more challenging, the more interesting for him. He was not a natural tourist, nor was there financial gain as he was lucky even, to get his expenses paid, but his professional expertise was, he felt, the least contribution he could offer to the developing world. Tales of his journeys and antics abroad, like the occasion when he was being taken on a tour of a sugar factory in Khartoum and fell up to his neck in a large vat of water, these stories will keep a smile on our faces for years to come….

To us non-scientists, he kept his work something of an enigma. We heard vaguely that it involved explosives and with his frequent travels to the Middle East, China, Russia, Vietnam and USA air bases, the enigma would deepen.

As with most academics, there were the eccentricities. With his rock-solid inner self-confidence, he courted danger, never it seems, falling foul of it as us lesser mortals would. This trust in life extended to the domestic scene. Earlier in our marriage when I was putting together our home, I might mention a stubborn stain or blemish that I couldn’t remove, and Arthur would come home with a  small bottle of colourless liquid, unlabelled of course, with no explanation as to what on earth the substance was, but on unscrewing the top, it’s noxiousness would blow one’s head off. I’ve any number of these now in a cupboard and I’m still not sure what to do with them!

His wicked sense of humour would have most of us who ever dared accompany him to the grand diplomatic functions at the London embassies, still blushing now with embarrassment. He never did bow to political correctness, but it seems to have lost him no friends as his honesty, integrity and generosity shone through. His forthrightness, defence of high standards and his courage to speak up, is what has and will always earn him the deepest regard and admiration of all. 

Illness and Arthur were strangers to each other. Though he was hugely compassionate to others in their pain, in his selflessness, he was totally dismissive of his own. Prior to the hip replacement, it took us nearly a year to identify which leg was actually hurting him. During his convalescence following that op, he was the only one who thought it perfectly normal to get down on the floor and make friends with nervous little Daisi, a pup just released from quarantine. The same dogged spirit that drove him to play much competitive sport in his earlier years, I’m sure gave him the physical and mental strength to endure the last few months of his life. Right to the end, his determination to carry on working in the charity’s office in Wraysbury, driving 100s of miles at weekends setting up stalls and gazebos at events and meeting the public, and playing the organ here on Sundays… all these were terribly important to him and I thank you all for your patience and understanding in helping him do this. The Isle of Wight doctor who took over his care was astonished at his strength, and that he was still functioning, 12 days before he died, with a blood glucose level of 62 when the normal is about 4 and we are usually comatosed at 30.  It was a privilege to nurse him at the end.

For me personally, the full impact of the absence of ‘poor Arthur’ as he came to be called, will I’m sure be felt in the days to come. The launch of my work for the greyhounds coincided with the years that Arthur and I first came together as a couple. I will miss his rock-solid dependability and guiding hand, as will his children and grandchildren, members of the charity and the church here. His life and career are an example to all of us in the upholding of enduring time-honoured values. I thank you all today for joining his family and me, in celebrating Arthur’s life and achievements.