Mike Payne writes: David Bluett (2 North, 1951-55) would have been 77 on Friday 5 December and once again Andrew Cronk organised a Lunch at the East India Club on this anniversary to remember that unique and remarkable OC. About 15 special friends recalled all that David meant to us and to endless numbers of OCs of all ages.
Meanwhile at his beloved Thames Ditton he is recalled in photographs and at the School he loved how appropriate it is that the 1st XV rugby pitch is named after him.
David died on 19 July 2010. He entered 2 North in 1951 under ‘Effie’ Tucker, handicapped by severe dyslexia, a condition little understood then. This limited his academic achievements to a handful of ‘O’ levels, but his pride in these was given lifelong fame by the prominence of their certificates inside the outside lavatory at his characterful Sandwich cottage! The first time I stayed there I was told that I wouldn’t be given a drink until I’d gone out in the cold to pay homage to them! What followed the drink was the fun and the kippers!
This is just one indication of David’s hugely endearing eccentricity; indeed in my eyes he succeeded Gordon Taylor as the most eccentric OC and was unthreatened in this role until he died.
David enjoyed being an OC much more than he enjoyed his time at school. No one was a more passionate supporter of everything Cranleighan, and he was at various times Captain and President of the Rugby Club, Captain of the Golf Society, Chairman of the Society Dinner, and a prominent member of the Ling Cow Shipping Club, the Choppers and the OC Lodge. Beyond Cranleighan confines he was the most prolific Clubman I’ve known. At his funeral his sons listed 70 plus Clubs and Societies he was linked to. These included the Skinners and Carmens Companies, the East India, RAC and HAC Clubs, and the Sundridge Park and Royal Cinque Ports Golf Clubs.
David loved his pipe, his walking crook with whistle, his blazers, his horse-racing, his rugby, but most of all his friends. The latter miss the Christmas card from him hitting the mat in October, perhaps less so the deafening snores that reverberated whenever sleep got the better of him (which it did sometimes in mid-sentence!). But in few places is he missed more than on the touchline, when he was the equal of a hundred American cheerleaders as he boomed “OOOOOO CCCCCCs” at maximum decibels.
Generous, warmhearted, larger than life – that’s the David Bluett of legend, and of fact. No one is more worthy of an annual lunch in his memory.