Martin Weaver, who has died of cancer aged 72, arrived at Boston grammar school (where I worked) in 2004 to fill a sudden vacancy. Within a week of arriving we were in the throes of a difficult Ofsted inspection which yielded just two “outstanding” lesson observations. His was one of them.
He was a remarkable polymath of a man. Martin was interested, curious, inquiring and inquisitive of everything and everyone around him. At school, his attitude to troublesome students was always to ask “What more can I do? What else can I try?” Martin’s default position seemed always to look to himself for a solution to a problem, irrespective of where blame might actually lie. It was a quality that endeared him to so many. Former students spoke of him as “an inspiration”, “a legend,” “an amazing teacher,” and “engaging, knowledgable and above all kind.”
Martin was born in Croydon, south London, to Joan and Tudor Weaver. His father worked for Croydon council while his mother devoted her time to looking after Martin and his two younger brothers, Robert and Graham. He attended Whitgift school, then Oxford University, where he took a double first in biochemistry. From 1975 he taught at Highgate school, in north London, latterly as head of department, and it was there that Martin met Miki Carmichael, who was working at the school as a lab technician while studying for her degree in biological sciences. They married in 1980.
Martin’s many talents were not confined to the classroom. He played French horn in the Norfolk Symphony Orchestra and sang tenor in the choir of St Botolph’s, Boston (AKA Boston Stump), occasionally even acting as musical director when required. He was a knowledgable and experienced guide at the local RSPB reserve as well as an active member of the Fenland branch of the Campaign for Real Ale, Camra.
But his unorthodox appearance also marked Martin out as special. Long hair, beard, and wearing sandals in all weathers (and almost all terrains, including the salt marshes of RSPB Freiston Shore) he defied all expectations except, perhaps, those of the head of biology, Ian Graham, whose department at the grammar school Martin joined at such short notice. “We needed a miracle,” he said, “and in walked Jesus!”
Martin is survived by Miki, their daughter, Rachel, and granddaughter, Eleanor, and by his brothers.
