RIP - Philip L Hoggarth (DB, 47-54)

Today, we come together to celebrate the remarkable life of my grandfather, Phil Hoggarth—affectionately known to the family as “Pops.” Standing here with a heavy heart, I also feel immense pride and gratitude for the incredible man he was and the lasting impact he had on all our lives.

Pops was born and raised here in the picturesque town of Brecon, a place he cherished deeply. Other than a brief period in his late teens when he served in Cyprus as part of his National Service, Brecon was always his home. Pops was the only child of Lawrence and Dorothy Hoggarth (nee Perry). Lawrie came to Wales from Lancashire with his two sisters, he was from a grocery background working as a partner with J Sainsbury’s in the very early days. Dorothy was one of 11 siblings of the large Perry family, the many Perry cousins played a very large part throughout his whole life. He briefly lived in Aberystwyth with Beryl, John, Auntie Queenie and Uncle Edgar during the war, whilst his father served in the fire service in Carmarthen and his mum was working in the shop in the market. They were very much like brothers and sister in those early years.

He married our Mamgu, Hazel, in 1966 in Caio, Carmarthenshire, and though we lost her over ten years ago to dementia, his love for her never wavered. You could hear it in his voice whenever he spoke about her. He loved to tell the story of how they met—he was on his way to a dance, standing outside the Wellington, when he ran into Mamgu and her friend. After a brief conversation, he turned to his mate and said, “That’s the woman I’m going to marry.” And being a man of his word, he did exactly that. He became a devoted father to his two daughters Sarah and Jane, a loving grandfather to his five grandchildren—including myself—and a proud great-grandfather to two great-granddaughters.

Pops and Mamgu had a wonderful Marriage, living in their house in The Struet. They spent their days off exploring the coastline of Pembrokeshire eventually buying a caravan in Manorbier. As grandkids we would spend weekends and school holidays with them eating ice creams in Tenby and learning to ride our bikes around the car park. Of an evening pops would stoke up the BBQ and cook us hot dogs and burgers and we would play endless games of Gin Rummy, which no matter how hard we tried he would always win.

Pops’ input into the family business started off riding a bike around Brecon selling ice creams, as part of his dads Ice cream parlour. Originally based down the Watton in the Salvation army hut, before opening a shop in Maendu Terrace as well as one in Brecon market. At the age of 18 he went to Cyprus on National service. When he returned, he joined his fathers trade working in a grocer and delicatessens. The shop later moved to the Struet when he and Mamgu bought their home. More than just a grocery store, it became a hub for the community. At Christmas, his window displays were legendary—so much so that he won multiple best-dressed window competitions.

Long before supermarkets introduced home deliveries, Pops was already offering one, delivering groceries to farms across Brecon and Radnorshire. He often shared a story about a particularly harsh winter when deep snow prevented farmers from getting to town. Determined to help, Pops drove his van out to a remote phone box and left a month’s worth of supplies for a stranded farmer. Weeks later, he returned to collect the money from the same phone box, trusting that they would settle their bill—because that’s just the kind of man he was.

Pops’ dedication to his community didn’t stop there. Over the years, he was actively involved in various local groups such as Rotary club, the 41 Club and was also a Freemason contributing to local charities and supporting those in need. He was also a member of a walking group, where he explored different trails around the area, enjoying conversations with fellow walkers about life, history, and everything in between.

In his later years, he continued to give back by volunteering at Brecon’s information centre. Whether it was tourists, hikers, or bikers passing through, Pops was always ready with a warm welcome and helpful advice, ensuring they experienced the best of Brecon and the stunning Brecon Beacons he loved so much. His passion for his hometown was evident in everything he did, and he took great pride in sharing its beauty with others.

When he was younger Pops would occasionally pick up odd jobs while he was in Brecon. One of his favourite stories involved him driving the family car as part of a funeral procession. He’d dropped the grieving family off at St Michaels church, and while they were inside- he was leaning against the car, enjoying a cigarette and feeling rather pleased with himself—mostly because the car had a radio, which, at the time, was a pretty high-tech feature. Then came the moment of panic, the service had finished; the family was on their way back to the car and  Pops suddenly realised he didn’t know how to turn the radio off. After fumbling with the knobs for a while, he managed to turn the volume down—but not off. He figured that was good enough. So off they went, slowly driving up the hill toward the graveyard. But as they climbed higher, the radio signal got stronger—and so did the music. Louder and  it grew, and there was Pops, mortified, desperately twisting every dial he could find, but the music just kept blasting. And so, just like a scene from Fawlty Towers, the funeral procession arrived at the graveside… with the radio blaring away in the background like it was the world’s most inappropriately timed soundtrack.

Rugby was one of Pops’ greatest passions. Even in his final days, he was watching the Wales women’s rugby team from his hospital bed, jokingly asking the nurses to turn his bed toward the TV so he wouldn’t have to strain his neck. As a young man, he played for Brecon RFC, and even captained them. To this day I believe  he still holds the record for the highest number of points scored in a season.

Following his playing career was a dedicated supporter of Brecon RFC, attending games religiously, whether they were at home or away. One of his proudest moments with the cub was  seeing them win the Cup Final at the Millennium Stadium. He was there, wrapped in his scarf and hat, a day he talked about for years.

Music was another one of pop’s loves. He was an enthusiastic member of the Talgarth Male Voice Choir, attending weekly rehearsals and even performing pitch-side at the Millennium Stadium during Wales international games. He was also part of the “1000 Welsh Voices” at the Royal Albert Hall—if you look it up the 2015 concert on YouTube, about ten minutes in, you’ll see him, front and centre, alongside his choir mates Terry and Dave. He was also a member of the Cardiff arms park choir and the British and Irish Lions Choir. This gave him the opportunity to travel to travel with the Lions on four of their tours to Australia and South Africa and twice to New Zealand. As well as the rugby tours, he would boast that he has sung in 20 different countries most of which he travelled to with his travelling buddy Terry. These experiences brought him so much happiness, allowing him to combine his love for rugby and music while connecting with people from all over the world.

As his eldest grandson, I have so many cherished memories of Pops. When I was in school, we’d spend school holidays at his house while Mum was at work. One day, I found an old purse in the house with just a few coins in it. Before leaving to go home, I hid it, determined to keep it safe from my sister and cousins. But the next time I visited, I realised Pops had found it and hidden it somewhere else. And so began our game—every holiday, I’d hunt for the purse, hide it again before leaving, and he’d have found and hidden it by the time I came back.

This went back and forth for years, until one day, we both forgot where it was. It was lost for nearly a decade. Pops even asked his cleaner to keep an eye out for it, but it never turned up. The last time I saw him, we laughed about it, both admitting we had no idea where it had ended up or who had hidden it last.

After he passed, I spent the weekend at his house searching high and low for that purse, determined to find it one last time. Just as I was about to leave, I checked the spare room—and there it was, sitting on the window ledge behind the curtains covered in cobwebs. To anyone else, it’s just an old, broken purse with a few copper coins inside. But to me, it’s everything. It represents who Pops was—a fun, loving, thoughtful individual and always up for a bit of mischief.

Today, as we say goodbye to our beloved Pops, let’s remember the joy he brought into our lives, the lessons he taught us, and the love he gave so freely. His spirit will live on in each of us, in the community he served so diligently, and in the music that will continue to echo in our hearts.

Rest in peace, Pops. Your legacy will never be forgotten.

Thank you.