Dennis Daymond-John is now eighty-one years old. He had always suffered from poor eyesight. He managed to join the army in 1939 by memorising the eye-charts but was discharged in 1943 by a canny doctor who produced a chart Dennis had not previously seen. His sight finally failed and since 1980 he has been registered as blind. But since 1982 he has raised the extraordinary total of £150,000 for charities. He has raised it by stunts; extraordinary and often dangerous stunts.
    Two years after he had gone blind, in 1982, he felt that there was more he could do with his life. He was very fit and surely, he thought, he could do something to help others who were confined to a wheel-chair or a sick-bed. He formed a committee to begin raising money for the Royal National Institute for the Blind. Every year, beginning in 1983, for the next twelve years, they ran a cycle marathon. By the end of this period they had raised £60,000.
    But then the committee was dissolved and Dennis decided to pursue solo events to raise money, each dedicated to one charity – masonic or non-masonic. The events were ambitious, strenuous and increasingly quirky. In 1993, he began with a 15,000 foot parachute jump from Netheravon, Wiltshire, strapped to a Red Devil expert. Through sponsorship, he was raising money for the eye unit at St Woolos Hospital, Newport which was gathering funds for an electron microscope. Dennis knew the unit and its doctors well: he had been admitted there on seven occasions for eye operations.
    In 1995 he returned to his great interest, cycling, and in May completed a tandem ride from Land’s End to John O’Groats and continued riding down through Scotland to complete a total of 1000 miles in ten days. He rode in tandem with cyclist Austin Heath whose wife drove the support car.
    During the ride, for four days they encountered snow, sleet and hail, and winds which became so strong that on occasion they had to pedal downhill. Dennis’s spirits faltered three times in the soaking cold rain but he gathered himself together and pedalled on; his efforts raised £5000. Furthermore, en route, he celebrated his 73rd birthday. In total, since 1982, he had raised over £100,000 for charity. But he wanted to do more.
    Tandem cycling adventures proved a good means of raising funds: in summer 1997 he went to Russia and rode the 436 miles from St. Petersburg to Moscow negotiating the hazards of poor tracks and roads. At the end of his first day the chain had come off seventeen times and so rough had the roads been that the seat had to be hammered back into position. Such was his enthusiasm during the trip that he "wore out" six front-riders on the bicycle. By now his total fund of money raised was approaching £120,000.
    Two years later he embarked on a tandem ride across Cuba. He and his co-cyclist covered 255 miles in five days, again often over very rough roads. He recalled, "The contrast was amazing. We started off against a raging gale with waves crashing over the sea walls. Within twenty-four hours it was ninety-three degrees and I went for a swim in full cycling gear and dried off riding the bike." Then in 2001, aged 80 now, he rode a tandem across Brazil to raise money for Mencap.

Freemasonry

Freemasonry has proved the well-spring of Dennis’s life. He is very active – although not to the point where his wife might get worried! He is a member of three Craft Lodges, his Mother Lodge being Tennant Lodge, No. 1992, in Cardiff and he has been Master on two occasions; he has also served as Master of Old Monktonians’ Lodge, No. 8938. He has been exalted into the Royal Arch and, beyond the Craft, he is a member of Rose-Croix. When he joined Freemasonry, the process was not as simple as it is today.
    He first expressed an interest in joining in 1947. His Father-in-law was in the Craft and arranged his initiation. But it took three years before he was even interviewed. And following the interview it took another two years before he was able to be initiated in the Cardiff Temple. The big night finally arrived in 1952. "Do you remember it?" I asked. "Oh yes. Not half!" he replied as though it were only yesterday. "And my Third Degree. The hall had run out of heating oil. It was freezing!"
    "Is Freemasonry still a movement for a young man?" I asked.
    "Oh yes!" was the emphatic reply, "It gives comradeship. My best friends are masons. You feel that if you were really in trouble you would have support."
    But he did recognise certain problems which he felt needed to be addressed,
    "I am in favour of opening the doors of Freemasonry. Let the public see our Temples. And one of the best kept secrets in Freemasonry is the tremendous amount of good we do for non-masonic charities. Yet our fund-raising is unique: I have many friends in the Rotary and the Lions and they raise much for charity but we are the only body which raises money from within ourselves. We need to make this known. We have allowed ourselves to be labelled an inward looking secret body."
    "But today", I asked, " with so many demands on one’s time, many find it difficult to attend Lodge, or to learn the rituals."
    He had little sympathy for this: "Time!" he said, "We can make time!"

Dangerous stunts

While his proficiency in cycling had allowed him to raise large sums for charities, cycling was not all that Dennis had on his mind. He wanted to push the boundaries a little and see what was possible for a man of his age, with his disabilities. Sky diving had proved that such ventures were possible, and survivable. His worried wife spoke to his eye specialist. The doctor replied, "Let him do whatever he feels he can do." Dennis decided to go flying.
    An instructor from the Cardiff Wales Flying Club took Dennis up in a Piper Warrior light aircraft and then let him fly the plane himself for about thirty minutes. It was bumpy but he could feel the plane and control its flight without difficulty. A year later he went for a second flight. Then he decided to try abseiling – 210 feet down the side of Brunel House, Cardiff. This was one of the few times he found himself worried:

Once on the roof I had to climb fifteen feet up a ladder and duck through scaffolding on to a platform of planks. I was hooked up and when my instructor said, “Shuffle backwards and then step off” I wondered if this was going to be the first time ever that I would chicken out.

    When he stepped out something went wrong. After he had moved down about six feet some connecting shackle had jammed and he had to be hauled back to the roof where the harness was readjusted and then start again. His nerves had become a little frayed by this point.

Six or seven times on the way down I swung around like a spider on its thread and banged my helmeted head, back and shoulders against the building. They tried to talk me down by two-way radio but something else went wrong and I could not transmit. However, I could receive and so I knew they were ready to catch me as I neared the ground. I was very pleased to rejoin Betty (his wife) and my daughter Catherine on the ground and I confess that I was a bit wobbly for a while afterwards.

    But his most frightening stunt was the last one he did: wing-walking on a vintage aeroplane. An aeroplane which itself, was doing a few stunts – just for fun. This time, he reported, he really did begin to worry: The ground crew were so impressed with my age and track-record that they waived the fee for the aeroplane. They so impressed the pilot in the same way that he decided to give me an extra treat; instead of the ten minutes which is the normal flight you get they kept me up for twenty minutes and threw it all round the sky. A favour I could have well done without. I must confess that was frightening. I was glad to get off… The thought was in my head – when he was chucking this thing around - there is always a first time in history that the restraining harness would break.
    Finally, and one assumes to the relief of his wife, Dennis reached his target of £150,000 raised. An achievement he can be very proud of.
    His work did not go unnoticed in high places. In 1995, when he had reached the sum of £100,000 raised for charity, he was awarded an MBE by the Queen for Community and Charity services over fifty years. At his investiture, the Queen asked him if he was the man who had done the parachute jump. He affirmed that he was indeed the one. The Queen said that she thought him "a very brave man". "Thank you Ma’am," replied Dennis, "my wife just thinks I’m stupid." The Queen laughed.
    Today, Dennis has retired from his stunts and fund-raising but he remains available to advise those who wish to benefit from his experience. He also works with those who have recently found themselves blind. Many of whom feel depressed and incapable. Dennis tells them that it is not the end of the world, that there are many activities and challenges that they can still involve themselves in: "At my age, if I can do it, you can do it."