If our father, David Drucker, who has died aged 86, had any regrets, it was (somewhat unreasonably) that he had not managed single-handedly to "fix up" the social problems of the planet. He had a strong sense of justice and community, always wanting to improve the lot of ordinary people.
He was born in the East End of London during the general strike of 1926, his mother being taken to hospital by a fire engine with all bells clanging. He was one of the many thousands of children evacuated to the countryside in the early years of the second world war; after that he left school at 14 and worked. At 17, David trained as a navigator for the RAF in which he considered himself, in his modest way, as one of the "last of the lot" rather than the "first of the few".
Following demobilisation he became a sports physiotherapist for injured war veterans. He worked with refugee children in the Pyrenees and after gaining a scholarship to the London School of Economics became a probation officer. Later, at the LSE again, he studied psychiatric social work before joining a team of four providing domiciliary care for mentally ill people in London, a pioneering service at the time. He went on to postgraduate study at Columbia University, New York, and met our mother, Erika, a translator and editor. They married within three weeks and their relationship lasted 51 years.
While teaching at Swansea University from 1961 to 1970, his contacts and interests increasingly led him into the international social development field, working across five continents with a large number of United Nations agencies. He made important contributions to the way the social work field defines itself and operates. He was professionally active until the last weeks of his life.
A close friend recently summed up David as being a massively contradictory creature: funny as well as sad; tremendously influential while convinced of his total lack of effectiveness; a born storyteller (the Prince of Wales had to be dragged away by his aides on one occasion) and occasional monologist; and a brilliant teacher but sometimes unwilling student. He was generous and perpetually caring, with friends from all over the world.
He is survived by Erika, us and his grandchildren, Harri, Dylan and Chay.