My father, Dick Harris, who has died aged 71, spent a lifetime working and volunteering in the disability sector, using his own experiences to encourage independent living.
He was born in Wrexham, north Wales, to Edna Harris, an unmarried teacher, and never knew who his father was. Under the circumstances in those days he would normally have been given up for adoption, but he was born with cerebral palsy and at the time it was difficult to place disabled children with adoptive parents.
Instead he grew up at Penhurst school, run by the National Children’s Home in Chipping Norton, Oxfordshire, and later at a Leonard Cheshire home in nearby Banbury. These were happy years but by today’s standards institutional.
In 1979, Dick took the opportunity to move to a pioneering development of flats in Camden, north London, which had been purpose-built for people with disabilities to live independently. For many of those living in the accommodation, Dick included, this was the first time they had been able to make any choices for themselves, and the first time they were in control of their own money. He spent his first week’s food budget in one night in the pub.
Around that time he became involved in voluntary groups, organising breaks for disabled people with volunteer care workers in the UK and continental Europe. It was on one of these holidays that he met Angi Donnelly, who was there as a volunteer.
They married in 1981 and moved to their own flat. I was born the year after, followed by my brother, Martyn. From 1984 to 1985 Dick worked as a volunteer co-ordinator at Islington Disabled Association in north London, until in 1987 we all relocated to Coventry, where he took up a job at the Spastics Society (later named Scope).
Dick worked in various roles there for almost 20 years, until in 2005 he moved to Leonard Cheshire. His job interview had taken place at the home in Banbury he had lived in as a young man. He worked there in a number of positions, including on the marketing team, until retirement in 2020. He continued volunteering with disability groups in Coventry and Warwickshire until this year.
Care arrangements often changed and there were times when Dick had to fight for the funding and resources needed for him to maintain an independent life. In the 1980s and early 90s, community service volunteers (often gap year students) spent six months at a time as carer-enablers.
Later, the Access to Work scheme meant Dick was able to pay carers. All these people had to learn how, as Dick put it, to become his “arms and legs”, enabling him to work, volunteer and have a family life; and meaning that Angi could work (as a cashier) rather than being his full-time carer.
Within the last year Dick was pleased to learn, via a DNA test, that he had a half-brother, Sandy, who had also grown up not knowing their shared father. Sadly they were unable to meet as Dick became ill very quickly after being diagnosed with kidney cancer in March. He lived a life defying the expectations of others, breaking rules and boundaries, working hard, and being a good friend and supportive colleague to many.
He is survived by Angi, Martyn and me, three grandchildren, Rupert, Norah and Giles, and Sandy.
