Guildford Says Goodbye to ‘Bergie’ – A Real Guildford Character

Published on: 14 Feb, 2025
Updated on: 15 Feb, 2025

Dick Bergman in festive attire. Photo: Guildford Action

Dick Bergman – known to his many friends as Bergie – was a fixture of the Guildford scene for decades. A true character, Bergie could be seen regularly cycling around the town. His recent death has brought back many fond memories for people, and here we share a moving tribute posted on social media by the charity Guildford Action.

Yesterday we said goodbye to this wonderful man – the longest standing member of the Guildford Action Family.

Without a doubt, Dick was a well-known figure in Guildford—especially here at Guildford Action.

He was not just well known by everyone at the day centre but deeply respected and cared for. And I think it’s fair to say the feeling was mutual… though, based on some of the things he said, the tone he used, or the sheer volume at which he said them, you might not have realized it at the time.

It won’t come as a shock to anyone to hear that Dick could, on occasion, come across as a rude, miserable old git. In fact, his last words to us, shortly before he passed, were: “I’m sorry for being such a miserable old…”—well, you can fill in the blank. But that was one of the things I admired most about him. Some called it abruptness; I saw it as honesty. He never beat around the bush. And if he happened to shout while delivering his thoughts, well—that was just part of the charm.

Not too long ago, he told me that someone had accused him of being rude. He asked if I thought he was. Of course not, Dick! You just kept being you.

Underneath the gruff exterior was a man full of incredible stories, wit, and a surprising amount of warmth. He had lived a life worth talking about, and I wish I had listened more—maybe even taken notes. His memoirs would have been something truly special.

There are countless things we’ll miss about Dick—memories that will stay with us, whether we like it or not:

The time we introduced a suggestion box, and his one and only contribution was: “Warm the bloody plates up.”
His attempt at cooking lunch for the entire day service—tinned chicken stew, gravy made with hot tap water, and a handful of stinging nettles. We were unsure, to say the least… but not a scrap was left on a plate!
His mealtime routine: A glass of water (must be cold), salt, pepper, and English mustard—every single time.
The fact that milk was poured over EVERY SINGLE dessert he ate, no exceptions.
His very particular tea-making preferences—God help you if you offered to carry it to the table for him.
His stubborn independence: “I can do it!” or “Get out of my way!”—spoken with just the right amount of grumble.
The way every conversation had to be shouted because everything you said was met with, “Pardon?” Yet somehow, if you opened a packet of biscuits or muttered under your breath, he could hear it from across the room.
And, of course, the day he asked to take home the old Christmas tree—then proceeded to transport it by balancing it on his bike. The same bike we were always amazed he could ride in the first place.

Dick was one of a kind. He may have been blunt, loud, and occasionally a nightmare to deal with, but he meant well, and we will miss him dearly. Wherever he is now, I just hope someone’s remembered to warm up his bloody plate.

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Guildford Action is a charity that provides a safe, non-judgmental refuge for people who have “fallen through the net”, or out of everyday society. Visit https://www.guildfordaction.org.uk/