Rolls-royce & golden coffin as crowds bid farewell to Big Daddy
Huge tributes at Traveller funeral
A GOLDEN coffin, a fleet of Rollsroyces and wreaths shaped like cigarettes and a pint featured as Travellers gathered to say goodbye to Jim “Big Daddy” Coffey.
The leading figure in his community in Cardiff died on March 21 following a cancer diagnosis that had tragically spread to his brain.
Jim was honoured with a giant golden coffin, floral homages reflecting his passions, including a replica pack of fags, a frothy pint of his cherished John Smith’s and Guinness, and even a huge truck.
The heartfelt memorials were presented at Western Cemetery in Ely, drawing such a crowd that South Wales Police prepped the public for potential travel disruptions throughout the city.
Among the floral offerings was a poignant depiction of a stairway to heaven, featuring Jim amidst the clouds alongside his late wife Agnes and their daughter Helen, who died in 2006.
Jim, who had 23 grandchildren, was born in Birmingham but spent a significant part of his childhood travelling before his family established roots at Leckwith Common in Cardiff.
Until 1998, he continued to travel quite a bit, but then had to reduce the frequency due to heightened restrictions for Travellers.
He found a permanent home on a yard at Wentloog Road in the city, housing some outstanding prefab-style houses, none more than Jim’s. Adorned with lion statues and nicknamed “the chalet”, it stood tall on a sprawling driveway.
Jim’s daughter Bridget said: “My father was the sort of man who wouldn’t let anything drag him down.
If he had pain he wouldn’t go to the doctor. He would say the best cure is a can of John Smith’s or a can of Guinness.
“Every night after work he would sit at his table, smoke his cigarette and drink
10 cans of John
Smith’s.
“At midnight he’d have his dinner that
Agnes made him.
Then he’d be up bright and early to leave for work at 7am.”
Bridget revealed that her father “sailed” through his cancer treatment, going from chemotherapy straight to a shift of groundwork. She said: “My father
carried on his normal working from 7am until 9pm. Even in winter he’d be back home at about 8.30pm.
“He loved to be busy and he had the strongest willpower I’ve ever known. “The doctors and nurses were amazed by him. After seven months, the doctor asked him how he was and he cracked a joke: ‘I’ve passed my sixmonth MOT’.”
He passed away more than 14 months after his terminal diagnosis. Remarkably, he was still working two weeks before his death, and enjoying Guinness, Baileys and cards with his family just two days prior to his passing.