Uncle Glyn with me in my younger, hairier days — clearly paying close attention.
From my earliest childhood memories, Uncle Glyn was a steady and inspiring presence in my life. I remember the many visits to see him in Corris, where he lived with my nain — visits filled with warmth, conversation, and a quiet encouragement that would help shape who I became.
As I grew into my teenage years and early adulthood, he went out of his way to nurture my curiosity and broaden my horizons. There were day trips to Oswestry with my late Auntie Gwen, excursions to Dolgellau and Tal-y-llyn, and — most memorably — a journey to Cardiff to see the newly built Welsh Assembly, now the Senedd. I will never forget his pride as he showed me that Wales finally had its own voice. That pride became my own, and today it drives my own small contribution to Welsh political life.
It was Uncle Glyn who lit the spark of my lifelong passion for family history. He took me to the National Library of Wales, placed old family photographs in my hands, and guided me to the family graves in Llanwrin and Machynlleth. His questions about our ancestry and heritage set me on a road that has led to published works, national recognition, and the honour of becoming a Fellow of the Royal Society of Arts.
He also sowed the seed of my commitment to saving historical records. I remember vividly how he rescued old maps from an abandoned slate mine in Aberllefenni — a small act of preservation that stayed with me. It inspired my own campaigns to save threatened records, campaigns that have reached the floor of the Welsh Senedd and even the UK House of Lords.
For many years, I would call him to share my latest discoveries, knowing he would listen with genuine interest. In more recent times, our contact faded — the natural consequence of distance and the demands of life — but my gratitude and respect for him never diminished.
The news of his passing struck me deeply. I had known he had died, but I only discovered — through an internet search more than a month later — that his funeral had already taken place, without my knowledge of the arrangements. To be denied the chance to be there, to say goodbye and pay my respects, was a wound that will not easily heal. And so, in place of that farewell, I offer this public tribute — an enduring thank you for the guidance, inspiration, and encouragement he gave me.
Uncle Glyn, your influence runs through my work, my passions, and my achievements. Though I could not be there to say my farewell, your legacy will always remain with me.
Diolch am bopeth.
Antony David Davies FRSA FRAS AFRHistS MCMI MIoL 