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Michael Taylor, chartered accountant, tennis official and devoted family man, died peacefully in hospital on 7 November, aged 82, with his immediate family at his side.
Michael was born in Redhill in 1943, during the midst of the Second World War, the much-cherished only son of Edwin and Ivy. From the very beginning, they nurtured the quiet, steady nature that would come to define him throughout his long and purposeful life. He grew up in a house just thirty minutes' walk from his local church, and it was as a pupil at Glyn Grammar School in nearby Ewell that the foundations of his character — and several of his lifelong passions — were firmly laid.
At Glyn, Michael discovered chess, a game that would remain a constant companion and source of pleasure throughout his life. He played to County level whilst at school, a standard that spoke both to his natural intellect and to the disciplined, methodical approach he brought to everything he undertook. Those who knew him well recognised that chess, in many ways, mirrored the man: patient, precise, and always thinking several moves ahead. His time at Glyn clearly made a deep impression upon him, and he remained connected to his schooldays with characteristic quiet pride serving as Treasurer of Glyn Old Boys and subsequently The Old Glynians for over 50 years. Is this a record? By profession, Michael was a chartered accountant. He approached his work with the same care, integrity and strong work ethic that he applied to everything else in life, and he earned the lasting respect of his colleagues, who also appreciated the dry sense of humour that bubbled just beneath his composed exterior. His career took him to a number of interesting postings, and his children recall with particular affection his office in Dorking — a place of oak-panelled rooms, sideboards bearing decanters, coffee tables dressed with beautiful silverware, and, perhaps most remarkably, both tennis courts and a nine-hole golf course on the premises. It made a lasting impression on his son, who resolved at the time that this was precisely how his own career should look.
Outside the office, sport was the great constant of Michael's life, and tennis was his first and deepest love. During the 1960s and 1970s he was a member of three local clubs — Downs Wood, Cheam Fields and Banstead Downs — and he dominated competitions wherever he was eligible to enter. He played fiercely and always to win, as his future wife, Donna, discovered at some cost on one of their early dates, when powerful serves rained down upon her. She had imagined tennis ought to involve good long rallies and a degree of mutual enjoyment. Michael had other ideas.
Upon marriage in 1972, he rather reluctantly reduced his membership to a single club, Banstead Downs, where he remained actively involved for the rest of his life. In later years his participation shifted from the court to the club's governance, but his commitment never wavered. He shared his love of tennis freely with those around him, encouraging his children to learn and later doing the same with his grandchildren, from which a small but keenly contested annual family tennis competition evolved.
Michael's connection with tennis extended well beyond club level. For many years he served as an Official at the Wimbledon Championships, a role that required him to devote two full weeks of his annual leave each year — an arrangement that his family found quietly remarkable, and that his wife generously supported because she understood how much it meant to him. His service at Wimbledon gave him a front-row seat at some of the great moments of the modern game. He was present to witness Boris Becker's victory in the 1987 final and the legendary Federer versus Nadal final of 2008, occasions that remained amongst his most treasured memories. His children recall a rather earlier Wimbledon memory of their own: waving enthusiastically at the television during a match in which they could see their father on screen, quite unable to understand why he did not wave back. It was, they note, the only lesson in technology they ever received from their mother.
He was also an avid Fulham supporter and took up golf in later life with the same competitive spirit he had applied to tennis, playing regularly until his health no longer permitted it.
Michael married in 1972 and the partnership that followed was, by every account, a steadfast and devoted one. Together they raised two children, and Michael provided — quietly, consistently and without fuss — the kind of absolute stability that is only fully appreciated in retrospect. His children describe being enrolled from birth in what they call his financial masterclass, and speak of his wisdom and guidance as a resource they drew upon throughout their adult lives.
Family life brought him enormous pleasure. As young children, family holidays were taken at Westgate-on-Sea, where photographs record Michael on the beach in a full suit and tie — not, apparently, unusual for the era, though it strikes the modern eye as extraordinary. As the children grew older, holidays extended to destinations abroad, and in retirement Michael and Donna travelled widely and ambitiously, visiting New Zealand, Alaska, Jordan, Iceland and Egypt among other places. Their preferred mode of travel for many of these adventures was aboard Noble Caledonia cruises, smaller and more intimate than the great liners, which suited them well. They had a particular talent for discovering, wherever in the world they found themselves, a fellow passenger with some connection to Banstead, or who had at least heard of it.
Following the arrival of their first grandchild, Erin, Michael and Donna established a new family tradition: an annual gathering at Knoll House Hotel in Studland, initially a modest two-night break but one that grew, through popular demand, into a much-anticipated five-night stay each summer. It became a cornerstone of family life — a chance to recharge, reconnect and spend unhurried time together.
Michael took enormous joy from his role as a grandfather. He treasured each grandchild individually and formed distinct bonds with them, whether over the chessboard, on the tennis court, on the golf course, or simply playing games together at home. At home he was most often to be found in his study with a pile of paperwork, settling down with a newspaper, working through a chess problem or crossword, or watching football or tennis. He loved his garden, and was particularly devoted to his raspberries. In later years he extended his domestic repertoire to include making marmalade, elderflower cordial and elderflower champagne — pursuits that combined his love of precision with a quiet creativity.
Beyond family and sport, Michael gave generously of himself to his local community, serving with total loyalty and dedication in a variety of roles: Church Warden, Treasurer, Secretary and Trustee. He even accepted — on not just one but two occasions — the improbable appointment of King in Banstead's Five Pantomimes. He kept records in impeccable order, meetings on track and everyone around him organised, doing so quietly, faithfully and proactively, and helping the community thrive in ways that many never knew or thought to attribute to him. He often remarked that "retirement is just another job" — and he meant it.
In the last eight months of his life, as his health deteriorated, he became wheelchair-bound and was obliged to give up golf, surrender his driving licence and sell his sports car. Those who knew him will not be surprised to learn that he rarely, if ever, complained. He faced each new limitation with dignity and gentle humour, engaging warmly with those around him to the end. It was, for those who witnessed it, an inspiration.
Michael Taylor's death has left a profound absence in the lives of all who were fortunate enough to know him. He was intelligent, loving, kind, and quietly principled in everything he did. He demonstrated, by long example, that strength need not be loud, that generosity is not measured in grand gestures, and that the most enduring impact can come from the most quietly dedicated of lives. He was 82 years old, and he is greatly missed.
Michael is survived by his wife Donna, his children Suzanne and David, and his 5 grandchildren.
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