George's Tribute
I once asked my brother, “Harry, what do you want to be when you’re older?” and he instantly replied “a professional footballer”, I then said “okay, but millions of kids want to be professional footballers, what if you can’t be one?” and he said “a professional rugby player” and I said “what if you can’t be that?” “He answered a professional cricket player.” “And what if you can’t be that?” “A professional tennis player.” He went on to name almost every sport he had ever played until I eventually said “ look Harry, what if you can’t do anything involving sport? And he said a fireman. When I asked why he wanted to be a fireman he replied, “I dunno” and walked off.
He was brilliant like that, and I regret every minute of every hour of every day since the day he died that I didn’t tell him he was brilliant, I regret the last thing I said to him wasn’t I love you instead of arguing why he wouldn’t eat a Sunday roast without ketchup.
I will never come to understand why he died so young, why he wouldn’t be able to grow up so we have kids that can play together, why I wouldn’t be able to take him to school in my car when I learnt how to drive, and why I will never be able to be the brother to him that I wanted to be.
If there is one thing I will learn from this it’s the value of life. The worth of every day and how precious time is, unlike me Harry knew how precious life was, and he never took time for granted like when he used to get up everyday at 6 in the morning to practice playing snooker, or when I would wake up to him playing fifa in the morning. He lived his day to the full and achieved so much, achieved things which made people proud to know him, and which made me proud to be able to call him my brother.
Jenny's Tribute
I’ve been thinking about what to say for the past few days, but I honestly feel no words can justify Harry. He was the best brother I could have wished for, very annoying at times, but still the best.
I would often be woken extra early by the sound of Harry playing Jeepers Creepers on his saxophone, and would find myself humming the song for hours after leaving the house. Better than when a 4-year-old Harry had an obsession with the Teletubbies that tune would echo round my head for days!
I think we will all miss our Sunday roasts together; these were always very funny occasions with Harry insulting us, or telling some of my friends Mum and Dads “secrets” this could often get quite embarrassing! I always remember walking downstairs one morning with the worst case of spots I think I or anyone else had ever seen, feeling very down in the dumps Harry’s voice suddenly piped up asking me if I had chicken pox.
He always managed to put us other kids to shame, he constantly was helping mum, with the shopping, loading the dishwasher, making cups of tea and he only ever had a tantrum once in a blue moon, compared to our daily outbursts. I won’t deny that Harry was often taken advantage of by us older ones. One evening mum turned to us four and asked if one of us could run and get some milk for the morning, Harry being the youngest was immediately targeted, we all enthusiastically turned to him and said “go on Harry, you go, we’ll time you and see how fast you can do it” Harry forever the competitive loved the thought, and raced out of the front door, whilst we all slumped into the sofa to watch the next episode of Eastenders… Harry put up a good fight the next time we were asked.
As far as I’m concerned Harry is never going to be truly gone, he lives in everyone’s memories, he’s out there playing rugby, football and cricket with his team, he’s still probably going to spy on us from behind the wardrobe whilst were sitting in our rooms unaware, and every now and then I will hear the very annoying sound of jeepers creepers going around my head.
I love you Harry.
Judi's Tribute
Reading: John 16 versus 20 – 23.
Truly, I say unto you, you will weep and lament, but the world will rejoice; you will be sorrowful but your sorrow will turn into joy.
When a woman is in travail she has sorrow. Because her hour has come; but when she is delivered of the child, she no longer remembers the anguish, for joy that a child is born into the world.
So you will see sorrow now, but I will see you again and your hearts will rejoice, and no-one can take your joy from you.
Marie's Tribute
For days I have been thinking of what I can say, and I am lost for words as there is just confusion, questions and shock going through my mind.
All I feel is an enormous amount of love, warmth and pride in my brother Harry. Harry has had a huge impact on me, and will continue to do so for the rest of my life, something that I am very grateful for. I will miss him so much. The only comfort I have is to have been privileged enough to have known him, for filling my life with so many wonderful memories and to be able to say he was my little brother. I feel that it is important to realise that he lived life to the full, and to somehow find happiness rather than sadness; as the memories we all share and have had with Harry have been special, touching, funny and fill our minds with joy.
This is how we will all remember Harry and Harry would want us to be how we are in his memories, after all his exceptional personality and huge wonderful smile is all around us.
I would now like to read a poem, written by Harry, which sums up a huge part of his life in his own words… sport.
This is the sport for me.
Stripy bees running and passing
Quicksilver feet dodging and darting
Soft squelchy mud
Bruises and blood
Rugby’s the sport for me.
Vicious teeth bared like a tiger
Smashing hard the torpedo ball
Spinning and sailing
Springing and diving
Tennis’s the sport for me.
Wheeling arm spins the ball into air
Willow bat smoothly strikes for six
The aim of cricket…
To hit the wicket
Crickets’ the sport for me
A hungry mouth waiting to be fed
The ball zigzags into the net
The crowd roars
The player scores
Football’s the sport for me.
Richard's Tribute
The words that there is “life in death” is a truth that my family have fully comprehended over the past week. Harry has shone a light across the devastation that his loss has created. To look at the sea of people here and in particular all the young faces of the wonderful children and youth that have come to see Harry, some dressed in sports kit is a reflection of his life and a window to the life of the future. Through the love that he had for everyone and the love that so many people have expressed for us, he has made the pain that little bit more bearable. There is the multitude of people, young and old alike who have sent us their words of support called us by phone or visited our home. So many people know Harry, he has touched so many people and many have expressed feelings to us as if he was their own. My family cannot express our gratitude for all your support love and friendship. The indomitable spirit of Harry is with us all, he is with me as I find myself standing here today, he will always be with us and always a loved member of our family.
Sadly my brother Robert living in Australia is unable to be with us today. We are thinking of you Robert and know that you loved Harry - your thoughts and spirit extend across the water.
This is a celebration of a life, it cannot be anything else. Christened Harris - Harry, known to his many friends as Hazza, Haz, Millsy - Harry was born on Judi’s birthday, the 22nd June 1995. He would have been 12 years old this year. His hallmark love and friendship and of course his brilliant smile.
We all know Harry as the sportsman and his unbounding enthusiasm and skill for any activity that involved a ball. The family have asked Roy to talk about Harry’s sportsmanship today. I want to share the family thoughts on the Harry I called Rascal, remembering the fun times.
There were many sides to Harry’s character. Harry was modest, loving always prepared to help and support others. Stories of Harry are many – here are a few: -
Harry could show an understanding of situations that somehow went beyond his years. I recently started a new business and all the family took a keener interest in what I was doing. As I left the house one night Harry asked where I was going and I said to meet a new customer. He said oh Dad can I come. I said no and he said but I can take my shoes off put my torn trousers on and say that dad needs the deal so that I can have a pair of shoes.
Harry could come out with the unexpected. On calling my brother Derek to wish him a happy birthday harry got through to voicemail. As I listened to Harry speak on the phone he said “Derek, Harry here call me back so that we can Talk Man to Man”.
Harry was resourceful. Holidaying in Cornwall, the beach was ideal territory for Harry to hone his ball skills. A single game of cricket was never enough and Harry would soon be on the hunt for another game as he headed off across the beach. He would target an unsuspecting family and circle their game of cricket with a technique more closely associated with wildlife on one than a beach. Eventually the ball would come his way - he would throw it back smile and bingo he was in. The moment that Harry was offered the bat was the que for the Mills, Denton and Harjette family holidaying together to crack open the tea and biscuits and while away the afternoon watching the hapless family fielding Harry’s shots from every corner of the beach or swimming out to sea to retrieve a superb shot at Deep Point.
And Yes, Harry could also be stroppy. He didn’t tend to react to individual situations but build up to a major stubborn strop every now and again. For no apparent reason one cold winters night Harry burst in to the room and announced that he hated us all, we were the worst family in the world and he was moving out. The Front door slammed and off he went. I grabbed my shoes and went after him knowing that it was a futile act – he could outpace me easily. Eventually I found him lying down in the porch of the printers shop at the end of the road. I asked what was wrong – he hated me the family and didn’t want to live with us and he was staying where he was for the night. He would not be dissuaded and I couldn’t move him. OK Harry I said well it’s a cold night so I had better get you a blanket. He hesitated and wasn’t sure about that but stuck to his guns – well OK then he said meekly. I walked down the road back to the house slowly and glanced back only to see his little head peering around the wall – hopefully Harry was thinking Dad can’t be serious. I kept an eye on the road and waited at the end of the drive to our house – no sign of Harry. OK I thought I had better go and get a blanket. I went back to the porch Harry still there. I have to say that at this stage I was beginning to feel a little uneasy about this as I would not want to be caught putting my son to bed in the porch of a local shop and apart from that there must be a law against it. I put the blanket on Harry. I sensed his determination was waning but he still lay down. I walked back to the house very slowly and with trepidation waited at the end of the drive out of site. I stood for some time before he eventually appeared sneaked into the house and went to bed. The next morning with not a word said he was back to his normal self.
Harry was also a giver. In sports he was always prepared to stick up for his team mates. Upon his death the family were asked if we were prepared to agree to donate to the transplant service. Knowing Harry we all agreed without hesitation. Harry has now given hope and life to 5 other people.
A 16-year-old girl;
A little child;
And 3 adults one who has waited 2 years.
Through Harry’s web site at the last count he had collected nearly £8,000. We thank all those who have given.
With everything said, Harry was simply a much-loved son to Judi and myself and brother to Marie Jenny and George. We are a close strong family and we will miss him terribly but through his spirit he will always be with us and we will become stronger.
Goodnight Dear Dear Harry.
Roy's Tribute
I have been asked today to pay tribute to Harry Mills the Sportsman. Quite frankly, I don’t think I have enough time to do him justice.
They say a picture speaks a thousand words and I think that’s maybe the best way to express what was so brilliant about Harry’s natural sporting ability. You see everybody I have talked to over the last few days has a picture of Harry. Many of the kids sitting here today have pictures of Harry on their wall in various sports teams, Marlow Rugby, Fantastic Football, Spinfield Football & Athletics, Marlow Park Cricket, Marlow Tennis, Wycombe Phoenix, John Hampden Football & Rugby amongst many others. Harry as ever is in the middle, grinning and holding the shield or the cup.
Our favourite at home is one from just about the time he was starting his sports career, with his first two mates at Marlow Rugby Club. The three of them are 5 years old in Marlow shirts two sizes too big, standing in a puddle at the rugby club with Harry roaring with laughter as the water came over the top of his welly boots.
Another great picture is one where Harry is holding the cup, which I know is in a number of bedrooms, being the one where the u8s Rugby team won the Marlow tournament, because Harry scored the golden try in extra time. On that day as the ball was passed down the line heading towards Harry on the wing, I could have sworn that I heard the opening bars from Chariots of Fire. Everything seemed in slow motion as the ball finally reached Harry, and as Vangelis’s Chariots of Fire overture pounded to its crescendo, he effortlessly, side stepped two opponents. Like Eric Liddle the winning runner in that Chariots of Fire movie, Harry’s head went back and he continued to run in apparently further slow motion with a natural grace and balance on the ball. I was quickly brought back to reality as I realized that while Chariots of Fire was the right analogy, the soundtrack was playing too slowly, as Harry had quite simply left the opposition for dust with his electric pace to score in the corner before they had even realized he had the ball. Game over in about 30 seconds flat. And at the final whistle, while enjoying the victory, Harry was the very first player to walk up to his opposite man and shake his hand.
Over the next few years at Marlow Rugby, Harry’s contribution made sure that the silverware kept rolling in and there were great joyous pictures in the Bucks Free Press when the squad won the tournament for the third year in a row because, yes you’ve guessed it, Harry Mills scored the winning try.
Similarly that year when we went on tour to Holland as guests with Tony Harjette’s group, the coaching team reckoned that Harry scored about a dozen tries including two when he played for Roermund the opposition side for a laugh. The picture of Harry with his new mates in the Roermund team wearing one of their pristine bright yellow shirts, over which he had managed to have one of his famous nose bleeds, is completely priceless.
At Wasps Coach classes, Harry had many pictures taken with famous and some not so famous, Wasps players because once again he was going home with all the stash, as he had been selected Player of the Course from amongst a great pool of talented kids.
Finally on rugby there is a picture of Harry at a London Irish Tournament which says it all about his concentration and ability to pass the ball off both hands, a skill which is actually not that common in many rugby players. The picture captures his concentration and his anticipation of the next move, which is the mark of a great player. Harry is looking over his left shoulder, having quickly selected the best option, and the ball is about to be spun out like a precision guided missile to one of his team mates, whom you just know went on to catch it and score. Utterly fabulous.
And so was his football. From the outset at Fantastic football run by the equally fantastic Nick Blades, Harry demonstrated his excellent first touch, which is the mark of a top player and an ability to strike a ball into the top corner of the net like one of the strikers from his beloved Arsenal.
There are loads of pictures of Harry from those days, posing with the ball and always enjoying himself while again proving to be the ultimate fair player. Indeed as the Spinfield football team can no doubt testify, Harry was one of the top scorers in the local primary school league & many school teams would rate their chances of progressing in the league or cup on whether or not Harry was playing. And believe me he was playing and he scored the goals that put them out.
More recently, Harry played for Holy Trinity Inter and scored 13 goals in 6 matches, a record of which many of his Arsenal heroes would have been proud.
Then there is the picture of Harry winning at Cross Country with the medal around his neck and again grinning widely. That was the time when he took off from the gun so quickly, he wasn’t sure if he was running in the right direction. So he stopped and waited for the rest of the field to catch up, checked the directions and then ran off again and won the race.
In cricket, Harry had a superb batting style and was a demon medium to fast bowler. Those parents watching from the comfort of the Marlow Park pavilion on many a Friday night, can surely picture that reassuring slap of leather on willow as Harry hit another six or the crunch of leather on wood as another wicket went flying. Little wonder that he made the Marlow Park Cricket Squad so successful. And afterwards, when Harry went to get a drink, if one of the other lads was short a bob or two for a coke or an ice cream, Harry would quietly sort it out from his own money.
But perhaps the most unorthodox tribute to Harry’s cricketing prowess comes from one of the boys who recalls that once when he went to play at Harry’s, they couldn’t find a bat. Not to be outdone, Harry suggested playing with a beach spade and proceeded to knock 4s and 6s all over the garden.
There is so much that you could say about Harry’s skill but again no wonder that he was on the Gifted & Talented register at John Hampden. Perhaps the ultimate accolade is the dozens of medals & trophies which he had in his room marking his achievements in all these sports. He was that good but to whom could we compare his ability? Well, you could say that in rugby Harry was like Jason Robinson. In football, he was like his hero, Thierry Henry. In cricket he was a bowler like Freddy Flintoff, could serve like Roger Federer in tennis and had the stamina of Mo Farrah in Cross Country.
But, you know, we started this tribute thinking about pictures. So in closing, I’d ask everyone who played with Harry or watched him play and indeed everyone else to close their eyes for a moment.Now I want you to smile, still with your eyes shut and hold a really happy picture of Harry in your mind. What is that happy picture you can see? Maybe it is Harry in a rugby match darting through a gap in the opposition centres and leaving them flat footed. Or in football beating 3 men with his super dribbling to score in the top corner of the net in a vital cup game. Or romping home first in Cross Country & turning to clap the other boys home. Or beating older boys at Tennis with his lightening serves, and sharing a coke and a laugh with them afterwards. Or scoring the winning 6 at cricket & running off giggling with the stumps. And if you concentrate hard, very hard, maybe you too can hear that music from Chariots of Fire. And keep smiling as you picture Harry Mills in slow motion, grinning & gliding effortlessly across the line with a rugby ball in his hand once again.
Harry Mills, Marlow’s Sporting Superstar.
Tony's Tribute
One word I have heard over and over today is happy. Indeed I can’t remember Harry ever having a long face or looking miserable. All those who knew him, will vouch for this statement.
Richard, Judy, Marie, Jenny and George want Harry to have a final send off similar to those which finished many a sporting fixture, he was always involved in.
Before I ask all the children in the church to stand, can you please think of a moment you had with Harry Mills, that will stand in your memory forever and bring a smile – big one preferably to you your face.
This could be a joke, sleepover, sporting fixture, but one which will help you leave the church with your best memory of Harry Mills.
Can all the children please stand.
Lets make sure that the three cheers are heard all across Marlow.
HIP
HIP
HIP
Thank you.
