Leslie Copley

Les was a lovely chap.
When my own Dad died in 2017, he made the effort to come to his funeral under his own steam, which, considering he was 90 at the time and he had to travel all the way from his house in Whitkirk to the crematorium in Lawnswood, was no mean feat.
I used to see him trundling along on his mobility scooter, usually on his way to, or returning from, The Arndale Centre in Crossgates. In fact, he stopped to chat to me just a few weeks ago, and, for a man of his age, he seemed to be in reasonably good shape, which is one of the reasons I was so sad to hear of his passing, although I knew he had a history of heart-related problems. I happened to mention that I'd been to see Roger Moore at The Grand Theatre a few years previously and he'd chatted about his friendship with David Niven, which then prompted Les to talk about how much he liked David Niven as an actor.
Les' funeral was both moving and interesting, and, at the end of the service, he left to the strains of Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head', which must rank as one of the most beautiful songs ever written. What a memorable way to go.
He'll be sorely missed.