I first met David when I was a student of mathematics at Warwick in 1975, David was teaching a second year course on metric and normed vector spaces. His teaching of the course left an indelible impression on me. David, however, was always puzzled when, even recently, I said that it had been the best course that I had taken at Warwick.
Looking back at the lecture notes this morning (David would have wanted a little historical accuracy), I realised that what had really influenced me was not just the content of the course, nor its presentation, but primarily the man himself.
Later in the academic year I asked David to accept me as his tutee – a task that was to cause him a lot of work. He agreed, and was always accommodating when my two colleagues, Busiso and Miguel, and I turned up in his office wanting to talk about various fine details or alternative ways to structure course material.
David was a great and generous teacher – although, as was his genuinely modest way, he never particularly saw himself as this.
It was during my time at Warwick that David became interested in the history of Greek mathematics. Over the following years I read David’s work, talked with him about it, and asked him many questions on topics on the borderline between history and mathematics. My critical faculties were significantly sharpened by these conversations with David and also by coming to understand a little of his approach to his subject.
In the last three years I found myself in the fortunate position that I could spend time with David, often going on day-trips together. One trip was to Saltaire to see the Victorian Reed Organ & Harmonium Museum – this was partly in order to have a look at Bosenquet’s organ as background for a paper David was writing. After looking round the wonderful architecture in Saltaire we visited the Hockney art gallery. However, we both thought that the organ museum, with its amazing collection of old machines and its completely dedicated craftsman/proprietor, were more inspiring than the offerings at the art gallery – the art gallery soup was OK though.
Our trips out usually took us to places like industrial museums. There was something about these places, with their very physical nature, that seemed to echo David’s uncontrived and genuine personality. These visits were times of great happiness for me.
As David’s disease worsened he slept more in the car on the journeys, and towards the end, he found it increasing difficult to manage the stairs that we would inevitably encounter on our trips. Eventually, he was unable to manage even the journeys – we never made it to the music box museum.
What remains with me most strongly of David is something as clear as a taste – but equally hard to describe. David was gentle, insightful, dedicated, kind, clever, generous and warm.
With David’s death we have lost not just a great teacher, not just an eminent historian of mathematics, but a wonderful example of what a man can truly be. We will miss you David.
