David Mattinson (14 Oct 1948 - 5 Jan 2026)

Dad was born at Wakefield General Hospital on 14 October 1948, the youngest of Mary and Ernest’s four sons, after Alan, Derek and Mike. He grew up in Rothwell, near Leeds, and went to Rothwell Grammar School. Dad told us many stories about the eccentric and picturesque characters that populated his school, he had an amazing memory for long-ago events. He didn't like his school that much, particularly because they didn't allow the boys to play football as the school insisted on rugby. For Dad, who always loved playing football, this was unforgiveable!

Of course, Dad’s love of football didn’t extend to just playing it. When he was seven, he took the life-changing decision to become an Arsenal fan. I’ve never been clear as to why Arsenal became his choice, just a vague notion that: 1) they weren’t Leeds United, and 2) he liked the kit colours. Whatever the reason, he remained passionately devoted to Arsenal, (top of the league as I write this), for his entire life.

Dad left school at 16 and began training as a chef, among other retail jobs. He worked in various places, including a memorable two weeks on the isle of Sark, and a stint at a fancy a la carte restaurant in Leeds City Centre where Grandad also worked as a doorman.

After four years, inspired by his older brother, Alan, Dad went back to college so he could gain enough qualifications to apply for teacher training. This time he enjoyed learning a lot more, particularly his French lessons, which came in very useful later in life.

Dad’s teacher training college was in Buckinghamshire, where he made some important and lifelong friends. In 1970, he and his friend Ron went to London to attend a free concert in Hyde Park headlined by Eric Burdon & War. At Euston Station, he was introduced by Ron’s girlfriend Ros to her sister, Ann, aka Mum.
Mum and Dad maintained a long-distance relationship for a few years during their remaining time in college, writing to each other every week. After becoming engaged in Porto during a Hutchins family holiday, they married in April 1973 at Hemel Hempstead Church.

After a couple of years in Hemel, they moved to Leicestershire where Emma and I were born. Shortly after Emma’s birth, we all moved to Leighton Buzzard. My main memories of Leighton Buzzard were Dad nearly dying after choking on a bone from a battered fish, and Dad taking Emma and I on Saturdays to Leighton Buzzard Library and feeding us hunks of bread on the way home when we got hungry. After a few years there, we finally moved to North Newbald when Dad became Headmaster of Newbald Primary School.

Our first home in Newbald was the School House which adjoined the school. I remember it being very cold, but I also remember how great it was to have an entire school playground to play on, particularly when it snowed that winter, and Emma, Dad and I made a huge snowman on the playground. During our time at the School House, Hannah was born, and later that year, we made our final move as a family to 11 Eastwold.

All three of us attended Newbald Primary School, but I was the only one lucky enough to have Dad as my class teacher for two years. He was a great teacher. I have fantastic memories of creative writing, tie-dying, clay-modelling, Dad reading the Hobbit to the whole class, and of course the Friday afternoon Mr Mattinson guitar singing time, where we sang along to bangers like Maxwell’s Silver Hammer, Urban Spaceman, Marco Polo and Mr Tambourine Man.

After Newbald, Dad moved to be Head of Elloughton Primary School, where he was in charge until his retirement in 2008.

After retirement, Dad and Mum got much more time to do what they loved, namely taking long holidays in Europe in their motorhome – or as little Livvy called it, “Nanny and Dandad’s mota home”. As kids, we had enjoyed summer holidays in our trailer tent in French campsites where Dad’s French skills came into their own. But now as retired people, they had free reign to visit Italy, Portugal, Spain, Croatia, Germany and no longer worry about getting back for school term time. Dad loved the sun and he loved the freedom of the motorhome, as he would always say to us while sipping on his glass of wine: “this is the life”.

In later years, Dad became a loving and fantastic grandad to Liv, Babsie, Freya and Rory. All four have lovely memories of spending time with Dad when he would read them stories or play football or help them with homework.

As well as my teacher for two years and headmaster for five years, Dad was my dad, and he was the best dad. He was always comforting, affectionate and patient with us. He introduced me to so many things: Arsenal of course, but also so much music, so many books, and my love of foreign languages. Dad’s inspiration continued to the next generation, with Liv remembering how her grandad introduced her to a love of reading and to her favourite book Matilda.

I know Emma and I probably gave him and Mum many moments of anxiety and stress throughout our childhood and teenage years, (Hannah of course never gave any trouble!), but Dad was always there for us with so much comfort and caring and reassurance. I am going to miss him more than words can say.