John Rowlands, a stalwart and influential member of our community, sadly passed away on 13th August at the age of 85. John's funeral was held in Devauden on 11 September 2025 and his friend John Brooks wrote the following eulogy which he read at the service.
"If I conjure up an image of John Rowlands in his prime I see a man with a twinkle in his eye and a smile lighting up his face.
I only knew him for the last third of his life, but Carol has filled in the gaps and I’m also grateful to Viv, David, Neave, Kevin McElroy and John Watson for their contributions
Let’s start at the beginning. John Derek Rowlands was born in Neath on the 16th December 1939.
His parents Vivian and Marjorie Rowlands lived in Sketty in Swansea. His mum was a nursing sister and his dad a construction manager for Woolworths - a connection that was to lead to a lifelong career for John.
His dad was a hero from the First World War having been awarded a military medal for bravery pulling his wounded sergeant to safety under fire. John was immensely proud of his father, and I cannot tell you how pleased he was when Carol mounted those medals and citations in a frame which hung in his office at home.
He went to school at Clevedon College in Swansea and it will be no surprise to you that he played rugby as a feisty scrum half. A passion for rugby, and particularly Welsh rugby, would stay with him for the rest of his life.
He started at the Woolworth’s in Swansea at 17 as a stockroom boy. Soon he was on the trainee manager programme and a placement to Bristol where the 23-yr old John met a 19-yr old shop assistant who worked in the Fancy Goods Department. Well obviously they fancied each other because it wasn’t long before they were going out but secretly, because relationships between co-workers were frowned upon. They did it their way.
Carol worked in the record department, and it wasn’t long before they went from being singles ……to a long player. They were engaged in 1965 and married in 1966
On the 3rd of September, last week, they would have celebrated their 59th wedding anniversary… a long player indeed.
Their first child, David was born a year later in 1967 and Viv followed in 1977.
During those years John’s career was on the move – he was posted to a pick and mix of woollies … Bridgend, Lyme Regis, Canton in Cardiff, Pontypridd, Abertillery, a store in Essex and finally as manager at Luton, which was the largest Woolworth’s store in the country, where every year they filmed the Woolworth’s Christmas TV ad, which was a big deal in those days, with John hosting stars like Windsor Davies, Tony Blackburn and June Whitfield.
He was promoted to District Manager overseeing stores across Devon and Cornwall, and then across South Wales and Gloucestershire. That last posting saw the family move to Churchfields, across the road where they have remained for 35 years.
The family continued to grow: David married Therese in 2004 and Viv was married to Gavin in 2006. To the delight of John and Carol their first grandchild Neave was born in 2011 and Fynley in 2019.
John retired from Woolworth’s at the age of 55 but of course his idea of retirement wasn’t to put his feet up …
He became Chair of the village hall committee, a member of the Community Council and School Governor at Chepstow Comprehensive School.
What he brought to these roles, particularly at the Hall, was a unique combination of leadership, endless enthusiasm, tireless energy, good humour, tenacity and the ability to make everyone feel valued.
Kevin McElroy worked alongside John delivering many community events. He says John’s moral compass was family and community first. His lasting memory of John is his ability to engage others for the greater good and encourage them to be their best.
I remember walking with him into Llanmadoc on Gower and us both admiring the two flags fluttering proudly outside their village hall. “We should do that in Devauden” I said. And the next thing I know I am organising Devauden races, with the help of others, to pay for the flags that fly outside the hall today. It was a nice touch to see the Welsh Dragon being flown at half-mast as we walked here today.
The truth is you didn’t want to say no to John. He was in that sense a true leader who many wanted to follow, but he was a foot soldier too - the first one to get stuck into the less glamourous jobs like litter picking or emptying bins.
Woolies incentivised their managers to be entrepreneurs and he applied those skills to events run by the Hood Memorial Hall in Devauden. He made sure people attending had a good time and felt they got value for money. It was a formula that spread goodwill and raised lots of money for the community and charity.
I think everyone who knew him was delighted when he was awarded the British Empire Medal in 2016 for his voluntary and charitable services both in Wales and abroad.
He was a prestigious fund raiser for charity through the Hall for charities such as our local rescue service SARA, but also on epic walking challenges for Children in Crisis: in the Himalayas, South America and Tanzania where he scaled Kilimanjaro at the age of 65.
He also raised money for the charity “Street Voices”, which gave children living on the streets of Hanoi the chance to escape their poverty. He fell in love with Vietnam on half a dozen trips there.
He told me he liked the country because they respected the elderly and were amazed how old and fit he was; they are not a race of tall stature so in comparison they made him feel tall; they were fascinated by his piercing blue eyes and random people approached him to practice their English. He was in his element. He loved talking to strangers and helping them if he could.
In later years he raised funds to fight Parkinson’s that he was first diagnosed with in 2013.
He was a passionate Welshman to his marrow, and I’ll never forget when Sir Clive Woodwood, who was then the Lions manager, got caught in a lift with the two of us at the Millennium stadium. Shall I just say that John gave him "helpful advice" about how many Welshmen he should choose in his squad.
We followed the Newport Gwent Dragons all over Europe.
In scary Bucharest we narrowly escaped being accosted and robbed one evening and the next morning we were aggressively surrounded by local teenagers at a cashpoint. On both occasions John was ready to take on allcomers. He wasn’t one for taking a backward step. And we escaped unscathed and our wallets intact.
We’d go to France Toulouse he’d say ……and we did. He loved our trips to Italy too where we used to win.
When the Dragons were drawn to play Bath in a cup match, John and I decided to walk from Newport’s Rodney Parade to the Bath ground – it took us three days.
The Bath team were practicing when we arrived and when they heard about our walk we were whisked up to Director’s lounge where a birthday party was underway for one of the player’s young children and we spent the rest of the night being supplied with pints……. and jelly and ice cream
On another occasion we followed the Dragons to Limerick where they lost to Munster. John decided on a whim that we should follow Munster for their next match in Biarritz in the south of France where thousands of Irish supporters and 4 of us from Wales arrived for the match which confused and delighted the Irish, who bought us lots of drinks. There’s a theme developing here.
The match was played across the border in San Sebastian in Spain. When we got there Biarritz fans were equally bewildered by our presence and took us for a splendid four course meal with their families before the game.
I’m afraid the next bit of the story has been redacted. Suffice it to say we missed the last train back to France and John Watson was mentioned in dispatches for his diplomacy with the Spanish police. We did eventually get back.
There are so many stories to choose from:
• The “turn the terrier” drinking game at the Cherry Tree and the lost glasses on the way home
• Being mistaken for members of a gay pride march at a World Cup in France
• Choosing the wrong valley off the Great Gable in the Lakes – we could get lost anywhere but this one was the most spectacular
• Getting off the summit of Ben Nevis in snow and zero visibility when navigation really mattered….
• Finishing the Camino Santiago de Compostela with a Bloody Mary cocktail served by a Spanish waiter …..from Birmingham. David will remember that one
More stories than there is time for….
About four years ago with his health declining his family asked him if he’d like to go on a trip somewhere. All they got out of him as King Arthur, Gower. Viv and Carol took Neave and Fynley on this special trip where the grandchildren would learn history and folklore close to where grandad grew up.
Off they went and arrived at a church associated with the legend. No, No, he exclaimed not here, the pub – King Arthur. Neave says her education that day was to watch grandad enjoy a ploughman’s and a pint in a pub in Reynoldston where we enjoyed many a night after a walk across the landscape of his youth.
And here’s the final tale: One year we were doing the Gwent Three Peaks together and the weather turned very nasty. Freezing hail and snow was driving in horizontally as we climbed the second peak Pen y Gadair Fawr, above Crickhowell, and when we reached Llanbedr and the welcoming glow of the Red Lion most sensible people pulled out.. John and I exchanged a glance that said “we’re going on” and we ascended the Sugar Loaf in the most appalling conditions. I looked back as we battled up the 5 false summits and there was John, head down, jaw set, one foot in front of the other, no question of doing anything but getting to the top and finishing. On, on…. John was never a quitter in anything he did.
It was the cruellest of fates that this most active of men should be struck by a condition that by degree took away his ability to walk and to talk while his mind remained active. Yet he met that challenge with the bravery you’d expect, and he made the best of it.
I don’t know how he managed to fit in so much into his lifetime but for sure he squeezed every last ounce out of his time here and made a lasting impression on all who knew him and the village in which he lived and contributed so much.
He is much missed.
