Childwickbury Wake

"Which brings us to speed. Toby loved speed. Racing his tricycle, running down the hill, jumping off sand-dunes. Later on, he would come to enjoy skydiving and motorcycling - two more forms of exhilarating speed which are not just about getting from A to B, but enjoying the journey. I checked in my old log-books and in November 1996, just about exactly ten years ago, Toby flew with me in a little Cessna over Shipton and Salisbury Plain.

Light aeroplanes tend not to offer an impression of speed: even when you're tootling along at ninety knots, you feel as though you are hanging in the air. It wasn't that he didn't like it, or that he didnÕt enjoy the view, but I think he did want to go much, much faster. And maybe that's when he began to think about jumping out of aeroplanes, rather than merely riding in them."

"Like art and animals, speed for Toby was about living more intensely, and engaging with the world more closely, and experiencing things more vividly. On the weekend of his accident, he was as enthusiastic about life as ever - swimming with the kids, learning new card games, playing hide and seek, sketching at the Watts gallery, full of it - cramming as much as he could into every hour. This is how he chose to live his whole life, hoovering up experiences and engaging with people.

And this is something we can also be sure of: as important as they were, there was something that mattered more to Toby than art or animals, speed or science fiction, and I'm talking about the people he knew and loved.

His relationships were intense and generous and stimulating and inspiring. There are plenty of people here today who know that he could be reckless and infuriating at times, too, but his sensitivity and enthusiasm and creativity and sheer love of life drew people to him like a magnet.

The people who are here today - and indeed the many people who couldn't be here but loved him nonetheless - are the evidence of how important people were to Toby - and how important Toby was to us.

I have one last observation that comes not from the wise elders of the tribe but the nephews and nieces of Toby Russell-Winter. And that is to say that, as uncles go, he was pretty cool. Believe me, in the context of the cynical and sceptical younger generation Y, this is very high praise. For example?

You may know that - owing to various therapeutic requirements - Toby had his teeth removed and wore dentures for the last couple of years. Whenever things were getting dull, it was his habit to remove them and chase his nephews and nieces around the garden with them, recreating monster chases from popular movies. He would also amuse the assembled company with his prosthetic teeth by conducting two sides of an argument. He may have been the coolest uncle in the universe precisely because he never let personal dignity get in the way of an entertainment opportunity.

There was never a dull moment when Toby was around. And that's why so many people will miss him so terribly now that he has gone."

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