an Honorary zambian A tribute to the late David Shepherd, CBE 25th April 1931 – 19th September 2017
Writer: Sport Beattie, Game Rangers International from all around the world. They were not Photography: Courtesy of the David Shepherd simply curios bought in a shop—each one Wildlife Foundation of them had a story attached to it and if you
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irst of all, allow me to say that it is a real privilege and a great honour to write this article about David Shepherd, CBE and a giant amongst men, whom I shall never forget. I hope these few words may do justice to his amazing legacy.
I first met David and his beautiful wife, Avril, at their wonderful Brooklands Farm in the English countryside. I had just left the British Army and by a small twist of fate’s kind hand I found myself as David’s volunteer driver. Like anyone who has ever been fortunate enough to visit this wonder-filled home, I was immediately welcomed like an old friend. If you had time—which I did—you were afforded a personalised tour of David’s studio-cumgallery, which could be reached via an underground tunnel, accessed down a flight of steps leading from a ‘secret’ door in the pantry!
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TRAVEL & LEISURE ZAMBIA
cared to listen, David would recall them for you. He was a gifted storyteller—a talent he used to great effect to raise awareness and millions of dollars for wildlife conservation.
During the six months that I drove David around to his many public speaking events, I had a unique, front seat opportunity to listen and learn from one of the world’s greatest ambassadors for wildlife. Through this friendship, if I may be so honoured to call it that, I came to appreciate the amazing and relentless journey he had embarked upon to save endangered species. It was a journey whose end he knew he would probably never see, but one he undertook anyway—such is the DNA of a visionary. In my own words, I share some of it with you here...
From a tender age David had always wanted to become a game ranger in Africa. Soon after finishing school, he sailed to Kenya and marched up to the Kenya Wildlife Service chief warden and promptly announced that he was ‘Reporting for duty, sir!’. He was ‘politely’ told to go back Lit by the dim glow of World War II lanhome. It was one of those ‘sliding doors’ terns, the tunnel had the effect of creating moments—had he been accepted I would mystique and intrigue. As you negotiated certainly not be writing this article. In fact, the stairs into the gallery your senses were all of us who have ever benefited from on high alert— they needed to be, for all the David Shepherd Wildlife Foundation, around you the walls and easels were filled including the Kenya Wildlife Service itself, with David’s works of art. And here, in this owe a great deal of thanks to the lifeethereal, grand old room, one could see and changing decision that warden made. almost feel a summary of David’s life, captured by his own brush strokes on So David returned home and was faced canvas, of all the passions which were dear with the prospect of becoming a bus to him. driver...or joining art school. He chose the latter, but the Slade School in London No matter how many times you visited the unceremoniously rejected him for a lack of Shepherd family home you would always talent. At every event where I saw David see something new... for instance, the speak he always carried with him the model railway set which filled most of the artwork that got him ‘discarded’— it was of attic and was enough to make any boy or a seagull flying above an ominous-looking avid collector green with envy. Aside from sea. Many years later David relished reelephants, David’s other great love was counting the story of his failed application steam engines. The walls and mantelpieces to one of the ‘top’ art schools. were adorned with relics and memorabilia
