

A webpage to remember the life of Duncan Greaves, because he was always into that techy stuff.
Obituary
Much to the dismay of his older brother David, who had spent seven years as a care-free only child, Pat and Jack Greaves welcomed arguably their favourite son, Duncan, on 4 March 1967. He had a challenger to the throne when younger brother, Alan was born two years later, but this didn't stop them becoming close friends and remaining so throughout their lives. Duncan was blessed with brains, charm and the ability to be friends with everyone. He impressed his parents by finishing a jigsaw of the map of Australia at the tender age of two, did well at school and made lifelong friendships.
After a heavy eighteenth birthday, where he fell asleep behind a bench and had to be retrieved by a bouncer in the morning, Duncan decided to continue his drinking career alongside a degree in Geological Engineering from Newcastle University. During this time, he also discovered goth music, eyeliner and hairspray.
After graduating in 1989 and working several crap odd jobs, he got everyone's dream job of 'shitbagger' on an oil rig working for Haliburton Geodata, travelling across the North Sea, to the Netherlands and as far as Qatar. He got married to Diana, who he met at Leeds nightclub the Chocolate Factory, in 1990 and in 1991, he had his first daughter, Daisy, shortly followed by Holly in 1992. The family moved to Hebden Bridge in 1993. During this time, he enjoyed trips to the Scarborough seaside with his kids and was incredibly proud of his allotment, for which he was featured in the local paper. In 1996, he traded his rigger boots for a suit and tie, retraining in computing and maths at the University of Huddersfield.
After he divorced in 1999, he moved to Sowerby Bridge, moving in with friends Tom 'Stringlefellow' and 'block paving' Rick and enjoying regular trips to the Puzzle Hall Inn. He loved the outdoors, joining a running club, celebrating the rushbearing and taking walkies on the moors with Nipper, the Border Collie. We should all be grateful that he worked on preventing the Millenium bug at the Halifax and equally proud that he won the Puzzle's New Year's Eve fancy dress competition dressed as the world's tallest, hairiest Lara Croft.
He worked at Yorkshire Water for many years, then set up his own business, Scintillus Consulting in 2000, which won a new business award, but proved to be a nightmare for his tax returns. Never one to stay in the same place too long, Duncan made a big move to Australia in 2014, settling in Adelaide and specialising his work in cyber security. He even persuaded his ever-devoted mum to come out and visit him; she even crossed the crocodile bridge!
Not content with the bad weather and lack of glamour, he moved from Australia to Coventry in 2016 to pursue a PhD in Cybersecurity Management from the University of Coventry. He completed impressive research into trust and data protection and in 2019, he became the third Dr Greaves in the family (though none of them would be any use in a medical emergency).
He continued working in academia, joining the University of Coventry campus in Scarborough, returning to the place he had enjoyed so much on family holidays. In Scarborough, he became an avid sea swimmer, often getting up early to jump into the icy North Sea. He completed impressive work with the European Space Agency, working on their Jupiter's Icy Moons programme and he even took a trip to the Philippines to discuss cyber security with the Philippine Space Agency.
Duncan moved back to Leeds in 2022, playing an integral role in his mother's care as she got older and diagnosed with dementia. He spent many hours back in Menston providing her with multiple cups of tea, fixing odd jobs around the house and answering 'who's that man?' at old film stars on her TV. He followed the Greaves family tradition of teaching at the University of York, where he was given the very fancy title of Senior Fellow of the Higher Education Academy in 2024. In his later years, he found a new sense of love and belonging with his girlfriend Jo, her mum Julie, their fun Pudsey friends and daft dog Ted.
He is survived by his two daughters, one of which followed him into tech and one who used their shared love of good books to become an English teacher. He is also survived by his older brother David, who says he will miss having someone to bully his brother Alan with, and his younger brother, who misses his brother so much, he will even miss the bullying.
Funeral
Duncan's funeral will be held at Rawdon Crematorium (Leeds Rd, Rawdon, Leeds LS19 6JP) at 1pm on 21 February. Following this we will be holding an after-party at a Leeds venue TBC. If you have any questions please email hollykgreaves@gmail.com.
If you are unable to attend the funeral, you can watch the service online. We will add a link to this page closer to the date of the funeral.
We would also appreciate donations to Duncan's favourite charity, the RSPCA (but just for the dogs) - www.rspca.org.uk/getinvolved/donate/online
Gallery
Memory wall
You can also listen and contribute to our Remembering Duncan Spotify playlist here:
I wouldn't have graduated or be sat here in my new job if it hadn't been for Duncan, a good man, one I wish I had known better and kept in touch with.
I know he'd be proud because that's the sort of man he was and I will miss him deeply.
I didn’t see Duncan for a good many years after sixth form, but decades later, a few of us started to meet up in Menston once a year.
Duncan came along one year (beer!) and instantly worked his way back into our affections. I loved seeing him - his naughty irreverent sense of humour and most excellent geographically incorrect Yorkshire t-shirts created much hilarity.
We met wonderful Jo and it was so clear that they made each other incredibly happy.
Duncan - I feel so blessed to have known you and will miss you enormously. Make sure you wear the t shirt and fly the Yorkshire flag !
A big, gorgeous, lovely, friendly guy, with a ready smile and twinkling eyes. I only met Duncan a few times, my darling Alan's big brother, but I will never forget him. He had such a deep aura of kindness, friendliness and humanity. He was love. I feel so lucky to have met someone with such a pure heart.
But Duncan was not just brainy and handsome and funny. He was all heart. Growing up gay in the 1980's amid the perfect storm of discrimination, homophobia and the wall of silence thrown up by Clause 28 was hard but I always knew that Duncan just quietly accepted who I was. It was never discussed, of course, but I could always be myself with him. I remember times when he stood up for me against homophobic comments - it was unthinkingly done: immediate, swift and firm. I also know there were times when I was not there to see it but he'd always got my back. My defender, my hero, my brother.
It was, and is, the honour of my lifetime to have been so warmly welcomed into Duncan's life, and then family, with Dee, Daisy and Holly. The unquestioning and unwavering love that my nieces have shown me throughout their lives and especially in the past month has often been my reason to keep going. Girls, I promise I will always be your defender because if one of you gets injured, the other one feels the pain.
But that pain is worth the love. It is. It's worth it.

The photo has Pat and Diane with Duncan and my brother Richard holding their teddy bears and “Aunty “Pat holding my baby sister, Ann, at her christening.
Alas I am unable to attend Duncan’s funeral, but my thoughts will be with you all.

By the time Seth was back, it was time to relocate, as most of the local hostelries had refused to serve us. I think that Duncan, in full gothic regalia, including a home-made ring-pull necklace, may have been a bit intimidating for some of the locals. Our new place was a poky, damp, back-to-back in Leeds and my strongest memory is of Duncan getting ready for nights out. There was always a bottle of something hideously cheap to drink – like Thunderbird wine or sherry, the crimpers would have been heating up for an hour and there would be dangerous levels of hairspray fumes and cigarette smoke in the air. Then with a cry of ‘Lock up your daughters’, he would be off into the night.
The three of us restarted our education in different cities but we always kept in touch. Duncan was a regular visitor to my student digs in Manchester and letters, postcards, poems and daft drawings were exchanged on a reasonably frequent basis. His missives were rude, funny, warm and a delight to receive.
I have tried to keep up with all Duncan’s different careers and house moves over the intervening years, but some definitely passed me by. In relatively recent times he has graciously hosted in Scarborough, and we have kept in touch by phone. He always gave a proud dad update about how Daisy and Holly were doing and news about ‘Our Dave’, ‘Our Alan’ and his mum.
Duncan, I will miss your laugh, your teasing, your energy, your stories, your kindness and your loyalty. You will always be the hardest working, most skint person I know, and you are the best of friends.
Sending lots of love to all of those who Duncan held dear. xx







We never met or spoke in person, but through the words of your brother, who loves you dearly, I feel as if I knew you. Whenever Alan talked about you, his eyes would light up—he would always describe how intelligent, fun, and full of life you were. He called you his surfer brother in Australia. It’s clear that you were a vibrant and cherished person. In my mind, you have always been someone who knew how to enjoy life.
I wish you peace and light on your journey.
With love.
The quality of teaching at our secondary school was patchy and teachers often left the classroom for extended periods or didn’t turn up at all. At such times, Duncan would entertain the whole class his surreal and sometimes cutting humour, something like Spike Milligan or Vic Reeves but with his own unique energy.
A shared love of abrasive music, crimpers and hairspray took us, along with our dear late friend Ivan and my sister Amy, out to dodgy post-punk clubs in Bradford. We would all drink ourselves into oblivion but at least one of us (usually) managed to look out for the rest, taking it in turns to rescue one another from jammed toilet cubicles or particularly unadvisable romantic assignations on the dance floor. And then share vegetable samosas in the cab back to Menston.
He, Amy, and I all managed to mess up our first attempts at higher education, so we rented a freezing little back-to-back house in Leeds 6 for a year in the mid 80s. (He told us he’d completed a university assignment to produce an engineering drawing of the Tyne Bridge in the early hours of the morning after a night at the pub, using the Scottish and Newcastle brewery’s logo on a bottle of Newcastle Brown as his only source). I remember sitting in our lounge while he cooked in the kitchen: there was no door in the frame so he would dance in and out of view with a flow of songs, jokes and nonsense. Sadly, this was long before mobile phones so no records exist, and I can’t remember anything specific he said or sang, only that it was hilarious and joyous.
With kids and careers at different ends of the country catching up in recent years was often on the phone. His calls would be high speed accounts of his recent activities and those of his family, a barrage of questions about those of me and mine, some jokes, a promise to speak again soon – and then ring off. I’d be quite out of breath.
For all the stories about drunken adventures and his remarkable wit, I loved him as a kind, optimistic, smart and thoughtful friend. In his recent calls it was clear how happy and settled he was with Jo and his new life. I miss him very much.















out talk Pat it was Duncan. His passing came as a huge shock to myself and all my colleagues at Home Instead. He was very highly thought of by everyone who encountered him and I send my condolences to all his family and friends. He’ll be sorely missed.
Tony
He was around 4 when I first met him, I was newly engaged to his Uncle John.
It was a joy and privilege to be an Auntie to the three brothers, to see school photos and be a tiny part of all the boys growing up.
Duncan steadily transformed towards his individual and characterful adult self. It was such fun to see him experimenting along the way.
I do recall enjoying teenage Duncan presenting himself confidently for some of our visits, dressed head to toe in solid black with dyed black hair, black clothes, black boots, (black nail varnish?) all topped by his very slight, very pale, really rather young face. I was so impressed with his complete commitment.
On the outer fringes of his adult life, I sadly hadn't seen Duncan for many a long year but he always had (and still has) a very special place in my heart.
Remembered with love, Auntie Kay







A great friend so sadly missed way too soon.
We hosted the IT secret Santa, I had the part of Santa and Duncan (given his height and build) was the Christmas tree. A great guy, taken far too early




When we got together, we were very young and foolish. We had a shared love of all the things goth and spent of a lot of happy hours in the dingy nightclubs of Leeds, watching gigs and listening to the gloomy, but glorious sounds of the Sisters of Mercy and Siouxsie and the Banshees. Going from the heady days of carefree fun to real work and being a family was a challenge and I will always remember telling his eventual boss at Halliburton why he really needed to give Duncan a chance, when they were ringing to tell him that he hadn’t got the job and ended up getting me on the other end of the phone instead, arguing the toss. I was always his biggest cheerleader, especially when he couldn’t be his own. He was always the cleverest man I knew, and he was also a great bloke who just needed a chance.
We did have our times when we didn’t talk as much as I would have liked, and I missed him being in our lives. The things that created a wedge were sometimes of my making and sometimes from him, but they were never insurmountable and helpfully will be lost in the annals of time.
One thing I am very happy about is that he eventually found happiness and being with Jo did him a lot of good. It is a shame that this happiness was not destined to last for longer. Jo helped him with connecting with Daisy and Holly on a more regular basis and I was very happy about that, and I was very grateful to her for including them in their world and happiness.
I can never fault him in his care with his mum, who I also love dearly. He was so patient with her and was always there when she needed him. He was also one of the few people in the world who got on well with my mother and she thought a lot of him, again something that didn’t happen often. I will never forget how kind he was after mum died and that means a lot to me.
I hope he is , right now, having a pint of Guiness with my old dad.
At the time he seemed much older and wiser than me and my friends, who weren’t really long out of school – while Duncan had 2 young children, and already many tales of global travel and work on oil rigs.
We all gradually moved on, but kept in touch, and it was always great to catch up with Duncan on his return visits to Sowerby Bridge. His warm affable nature was always welcome and he would invariably have many interesting stories to tell.
It’s very hard to think we won’t see him again, I will remember him very fondly as a positive influence during a time when I was just finding my feet in life. My thoughts are with Jo, Holly, Daisy, Alan and the rest of Duncan’s family.

Thank you for the laughs, thank you for the memories and most of all thank you for the friendship of 50+ years
I will miss you terribly♥️


