Max Hebden - 9th January 1946 to 14th August 2015

On Tuesday 25th August we celebrated the of the life of my Dad Max. He was born on 9th Jan 1946 at Shipley maternity home and lived in Nab wood for all of his childhood with his parents, sister and brother.

His name officially is John Maxwell, but there were so many Johns in the neighbourhood that my Grandma Fan thought Dad was more suitable to avoid confusion, so Max, or Maxi it was from then on.

My Dad was not a conventional child, as you can imagine.  Although our family is renound for being completely tone deaf, my Dad had trumpet lessons as a child and when he was practising at home, Bobby their dog would begin to howl, so Fan would shout for him to stop as the noise was horrendous.

As many of you know Dad loved tinkering, first with bikes and later with cars or any other mechanical item that would not work, hence he began to train as a car mechanic.

His father Alf bought a foundry in the early sixties and persuaded Dad to run it. However, when the foundry industry began to decline, Dad turned the premises into a successful skip hire business and let out the other units in the yard. 

During this time Dad and his friends met a group of Young Socialists in the Beehive pub, Shipley and their ‘gang’ was formed. This is when Dad met Beryl, my Mum, and a romance blossomed.

The gang met every week to go the Fleece pub at Addingham for the folk music night, where numerous pints of Double Diamond would be consumed. They held parties in the cellar of the Labour club, or took over someone’s home when any of their parents were away.

My Mum and Dad married in 1970, but tragically lost their first baby Nicholas Maxwell at 13 weeks old.

Dad loved renovating, and totally transformed our houses at Netherhall and Station Road, he loved having people around him and their door was always open to their friends and family. The friends they had then are still their close friends today.

In 1975 my parents had me and then in 1978 Belinda arrived.  We then all moved to our family home in Westcliffe Avenue.  Belinda wasn’t too keen to start with, asking on the first night we lived there, “when can we go home”.  We all loved living at Westcliffe Avenue and have amazingly happy memories of our life there.

Dad was approached by a member of the Methodist Church to help out at the 6th Methodist scout group. He began as a volunteer, and then became scout leader and finally group scout leader. Joining the group began a legacy of friendship which has continued for over 30 years. 

Dad arranged so many activities such as camping and crabbing at the coast, cycling the Leeds/Liverpool canal towpath, playing cards and eating biscuits at the “Westcliffe Avenue youth club”, running half marathons and the Chevin Chase, walking the 3 Peaks, travelling to France in the black and red “A team” bus, and going to Malta to run the half marathon.  I know that there are many people here today who have fantastic lasting memories of these times.

Dad has walked down this aisle so many times at Church parade in the 16 years he was involved, and he had a knack of drawing people in. How many people here have been cajoled to help at cubs and scouts, Louise, Graham, Andy, Mike, Ian and Jackie, all great friends.  He even persuaded someone, not mentioning any name, to dress up in as a Gorilla and run round Baildon Moor chasing the Scouts.

Dad competed in the London marathon, the Howarth Hobble and the Lyke Wake Walk, and eventually, the fab four Marion, Beryl, Ian & Dad joined the Long Distance Walkers Association, and walked a 25 mile event about once a month.  My parents passion for running and walking has been infectious and many of us are now running and hill walking because of them.

In 1995 the fab four completed the Cleveland Way, the following year they completed the Coast to Coast walk, with Linda as navigator as Pete as support. They completed many more long distance paths with family and friends taking part, and they had so much fun and laughter during this time.

Dad dedicated his life to making Mum, Belinda and I happy.  He spent hours running Belinda to sports practices, supporting Mum with her running and with me at the horses.  Dad threw himself into every endeavour, he could often be seen galloping over Baildon Moor on Busby.  Dad always supported everything that Belinda and I wanted to do and made us believe that we could achieve anything.

Dad encouraged us to be strong independent women, like Mum and Auntie Jen, which I think sometimes he regretted, as we could all twist him round our little fingers.  He was a truly wonderful husband to Beryl, father to Belinda and I, and grandfather to Toby, Rory and Scarlet.

In 1998 Dad and Beryl moved to Rylstone Road, because my Dad needed a project. Dad began a massive renovation transforming the house and garden, and he loved growing vegetables, pickling onions and beetroot and walking on the Glen with our various dogs, and having a “cal” with whoever he met. 

Dad loved his trucks, firstly the red Peugeot pick-up and then his Hilux’s.  He was often seen driving around the village with two dogs sat beside him or pulling people out of the snow on Baildon Moor.  I think the red Peugeot is a symbol of happy times for many here today.

Dad began to play golf, and again drew people in, it was always ‘the more the merrier’. He also loved going to the soldiers on a Friday for a game of snooker and cards.

Dad’s garage is unbelievable, if any one needed a nut, bolt or any other bit of tackle, Dad was sure to have it, he never threw anything away as it “might come in handy”!  I have often rung my Dad to ask if he had a brush to sweep my chimney or something to unblock the drains and he always came up with something.

After the fab fours last long distance walk, the Norfolk coastal path, Dad became ill, and over the past three years was on dialysis. Mum has always said the Dad was an ideal patient, never complained or moaned and always believed he was going to get better.

I cannot define my Dad, how many people could tell me what his occupation was? I don’t think I could.  It ranged from the person who recharges the nuclear energy from a nuclear submarine to Arthur Daily’s Yorkshire brother.  My Dad treated everyone equally and I’m sure that is part of the reason he was so well loved.

My Dad has touched so many people’s lives, he has created so many happy memories for so many people.  He was a genuine, down to earth friendly man who always had time for everyone, he was one of a kind and was loved by all.

Be at peace, Dad, and as you would have said “crack on”.

Mum, Belinda and I would like to thank everyone who has already contributed in my Dad's name.  We are truly humbled by the generosity of everyone.  However, if you would like to make a donation in Dad's name, please do so.

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