We have gathered in this Senedd on many occasions to remember and pay tribute to people we have known, and others we have not. Today, we gather to remember one of our own: Carl Sargeant, Assembly Member and representative of the people of Alyn and Deeside in this National Assembly. His death has shaken us to our core, and his absence from our midst pains us today. But our loss pales in comparison to that felt by his community, his friends, his staff, and especially his family, some of whom join us here today. On behalf of all of us, I extend the deepest sympathy to Carl's family, especially to his wife Bernie, children Lucy and Jack, and to his parents. You are in our thoughts and in our hearts at this time. I would like to invite Members and staff and visitors throughout our buildings to stand and to join me in observing a minute's silence in memory of Carl Sargeant. 

Assembly Members stood for a minute’s silence.

I call on the First Minister, Carwyn Jones.

Diolch, Llywydd. I rise this afternoon to remember Carl, as a politician, as a colleague, and as a friend. I want first to express my deep sympathies to Bernie and the family. For them, it's been a time of unbearable loss and deep trauma. As a father and husband myself, I can't begin to imagine what they're going through. I hope they've found some comfort in each other and in the many messages of support from around Wales.

Carl was somebody whose presence in this Chamber was obvious to all. He took more legislation through here than any other Minister. And he had a knack of turning difficult pieces of legislation into something worth while. There's no better example of that than the Well-being of Future Generations (Wales) Act 2015—an idea that began as little more than one line in a manifesto and nothing else. When I told him he was going to take it forward, his response was, 'Thanks for that', but he turned it into something that is now being talked about around the world. 

I first met Carl in Connah's Quay Labour Club in 2001. I'd gone to speak to the local Labour party when Tom Middlehurst was the Assembly Member. When he was elected here in 2003, we became friends. His particular talents came to the fore when he was chief whip, when I saw with my own eyes that he was capable of gentle berating where necessary, to, on one occasion taking a reluctant AM out to feed the ducks to persuade them to vote the right way. A man of many talents. In all the years I knew him, we never had a cross word. We spent a lot of time talking together about the challenges of being a dad and the pressures of politics, sometimes gossiping about Cabinet colleagues. And he was always full of advice. Only last year he told me that he was the only one allowed a grey beard in Cabinet, so I had to shave mine off, First Minister or not. I had no choice but to listen.

He was ever-present in the Cabinet, and with good reason. I appointed him because he was good at legislation, he was good with people, and because he brought the voice of Deeside to the heart of Government.

In 2003, he was a key part of my leadership campaign. His role was to organise things in the north, but things didn't always go smoothly. He organised a curry evening with party members, in a curry house in his constituency. And as I was being driven there, he phoned in a panic,'Don't come', he said, 'the restaurant is being raided by the border agency', or words to that effect. We'd often meet up in Lesley Griffiths's room in the Assembly, late at night during that leadership campaign, when he would always be the last to arrive, and he'd make a great show of pretending to look around him to make sure he hadn't been followed. He did that every time we had those meetings.

His voice was usually welcome, but not always. We went to London together to a parliamentary Labour Party Christmas party some years ago, and we shared a room in a hotel in Paddington. I have to admit that I left early, but Carl soldiered on, and I was woken at three in the morning to hear Carl's voice on my phone saying, 'What's the name of the hotel we're staying in?' Having woken me up, he then arrived and went to sleep, only for us to be woken up by the fire alarm at seven o'clock in the morning. We at least had nothing to do with that.

Carl was a great one for karaoke. The Labour group bash at Christmas always had him as the DJ and the karaoke king, and he was good at it, putting many of us to shame at his fortieth birthday party. He loved to remind us, when he said, 'You south Walians can't sing', and in my case that was utterly true. It is difficult to imagine what it'll be like this year without him, and in subsequent years.

He was also, as Members will remember, the best heckler in the Chamber—never nasty, always witty. The Conservative benches will know that, whenever the leader of the opposition rose to speak, he would invariably call out someone else's name. And so, Paul Davies, Darren Millar, Angela Burns have all been called in turn to speak as leader of the opposition.

Yes, that was the man that we called 'Sarge'. Well-liked and committed, jovial but determined, firm but fun, and he will be missed by his family, by those in this Chamber, and by the nation.

I call on the leader of the Welsh Conservatives, Andrew R.T. Davies.

Thank you, Presiding Officer.

This is not an occasion that I ever thought that I would be speaking to in this Chamber, and, indeed, in the whole 10 years that I have been a Member of the institution, Carl always sat opposite me. Whether I was sitting in the corner there, in my first seat when I came into this Chamber in 2007, or by progression around the Chamber, Carl was always opposite, and, on a typical Tuesday, we'd look at each other and he would grin and he would wink, and I would wink back at him, and as the First Minister identified, when I was called to take my First Minister's questions, it was always 'Paul Davies' or 'Darren Millar.' But that was Carl. Carl was a character, but he was a serious individual, who knew what his role was in this institution. And that role was to speak for the people of Alyn and Deeside and to speak for the people the length and breadth of Wales who didn't have a voice, in the various ministerial positions that he held within the Welsh Government. And he held those positions with huge pride and passion. From the opposition point of view, very often you sit in here, and sometimes the Chamber can look quite bare on a Wednesday afternoon. It is fair to say that Carl was nearly always in his seat in this Chamber, engaging with the debate, engaging with the discussion, because he believed passionately in what he wanted to achieve, and that was a better Wales, a better community in Alyn and Deeside and, above all, a legacy that he could proudly look back on and say, 'I shaped that.'

Well, it is true to say that he did become the legislator in chief in this institution—four major pieces of legislation. Very often, politicians are lucky if they get one piece of legislation through in their lifetime; Carl put four pieces of legislation through. For a man to come from the factory floor and wake up each morning to put a collar and tie on and put the cufflinks in, and have that as a legacy—each piece of legislation will have a massive impact on the outcomes here in Wales about improving people's lives.

We have lost a colleague, we have lost a friend, but Bernie, Lucy and Carl's son have lost a father and a husband, and that pain and that distress must be burning fiercely at the moment. But what I and many on our benches on this side, and, I believe, across this Chamber hope will shine through in the fullness of time are the many happy memories that they will all have of the great times that they had with Carl, as a father, as a mentor and as an inspiration.17

You speak as you find, but I have to say he is one of the most genuine men that I've had the privilege to meet, and that picture up there of Carl sums the man up: always a smile on his face, always a kind word to say, always a quip as well as you walked down the corridor, and every time I saw him it was always, 'What's happening, boss, what's happening, boss?' I think that would be the same for many people in this Chamber. The word 'boss' comes from where Carl came from: the factory floor. Because the amount of times that I'm on the farmyard and people arrive there—'What's happening, boss?'—you get the same reply from them as well.18

His legacy will last for many years and many decades, for the work that he did as an AM, and I passionately hope that that sunshine comes sooner rather than later for Carl's family, because ultimately he has a legacy to be proud of and it has been a privilege and an honour to call Carl a fellow Assembly Member of the National Assembly for Wales. We join his family, his friends and his colleagues in grieving at his loss here today and in the subsequent days and weeks that follow. 

I call the leader of Plaid Cymru, Leanne Wood. 

Diolch, Llywydd. I'd like to add to the tributes to Carl Sargeant, again, after expressing my condolences and respects to his family and friends and colleagues inside this Chamber and, indeed, across the country. I was elected to this institution in 2003, the same year as Carl Sargeant, and, from my perspective, something that I associate him with is his rootedness and his authenticity. He was a politician who was authentically working class, he was rooted in and committed to his community, living among the people that he represented, never forgetting them, always working for them. He was a worker himself, of course, who came into politics after seeing fellow workers in his constituency fall into economic hardship. Carl Sargeant was a politician who could never be accused of being out of touch. His loss is a blow to this Assembly and I, and Plaid Cymru, share the loss felt across this Chamber and across the country. 

My colleague Bethan Jenkins AM is not able to be here today to pay her own personal tribute to her friend Carl Sargeant, because she's suffered an injury. She would have spoken, so I've agreed to say some words from Bethan on her behalf. So, this is from Bethan Jenkins:

'Carl Sargeant was a friend of mine from across the political divide. Despite many people telling me that I should not have friends from different parties, I've always been of the belief that we are human first. All I know was that whenever I needed support or someone to speak to about anything, Carl was at the other end of the phone. We joked after I would raise questions in Plenary with him that even though we clashed politically he still respected me, and vice versa. I can say for the record that I am devastated. My support rock in that place has gone. Gorwedd mewn hedd, Carl.'

So, those are the words from Bethan Jenkins where she pays tribute to Carl Sargeant, adding to the tributes from all of us here in Plaid Cymru. Diolch yn fawr. 

The leader of the UKIP group, Neil Hamilton. 

Diolch yn fawr, Llywydd. Carl Sargeant was a gentle giant and I am saddened beyond measure by the tragedy which occasions this tribute. 

Although the full story is yet to be established, Carl did not deserve to suffer as he did. I know from bitter personal experience the anguish that must have engulfed Carl and his family just over a week ago in the wake of the allegations against him. Sixteen years ago, my wife and I were both accused of rape, a story that became a tabloid sensation. Now, if you’re in public life then life is public, but unless you’ve experienced it you can’t fully appreciate the pressures created by the publicity and the sense of isolation that it engenders. The presumption of innocence to which all accused persons are entitled under British law often becomes obscured. It’s easy for the public to forget that politicians are human beings, with feelings, hopes, fears, emotions and insecurities. They’re not soap opera characters, but flesh and blood. Too often forgotten by critics swift to judgment stands the family behind the politician: spouses, children, parents and others, and Carl’s family must feel as if they’ve been hit by an express train. I send them my most genuine condolences in their enduring distress, because that is the heart-rending human cost of the political bear pit.

I’m pleased that the coroner will be, quote,

'examining carefully the steps taken by the Assembly to have regard to Mr Sargeant’s mental welfare prior to his death’.

Collectively, we’ve clearly failed our late colleague in this respect.

Carl and I were diametrically opposed politically, and we cheerfully hurled verbal bricks at each other across the Chamber, but he was a civilised and decent man, and big enough to recognise an opponent’s sincerity, and he didn’t allow political differences to preclude cordial relations outside the Chamber. I indeed had a jokey conversation with him on the way back to our offices after the last Plenary session, a week ago last Wednesday. I little thought that was the last time that I would see him.

As a recent arrival here, I didn’t know him very well, but I liked him for his avuncular geniality, his friendliness and his authenticity—above all for his authenticity. He was a genuine man of the people, never lost touch with his roots, and I believe still lived on the council estate where he grew up. He never acquired airs and graces, despite rising to and holding high office in government for many years. I frequently saw him sitting with Assembly catering staff or security in the canteen. He never saw himself as more important than anybody else.

I admired him also for his candour and his openness. For example, I was impressed by the decisive way that he handled the failures of Communities First. He was not a man for stonewalling or self-justification. He shot straight from the shoulder and told it like it is. As a result he earned my respect and perhaps blunted my sword.

Carl’s family has lost its mainspring. The Assembly has lost a worthy Member. Wales has lost a devoted son. May he rest in peace, and let us all honour his memory.

One week on, it is still so hard to process that we are here today paying our respects with our tributes to Carl. I too first met Carl 16 years ago in Connah’s Quay Labour Club, or 'Sargie’s headquarters', as it’s locally known. He was proud to be elected to this place in 2003 by the people of Alyn and Deeside. I followed in 2007, and we quickly became great friends, travelling up and down together from north Wales most weeks.

Carl lived in the heart of his community in Connah’s Quay. He never forgot his roots, and he was proud of his working-class background. On the day he entered Cabinet, and I Government, we shared the journey home excited about the future, and what we felt we could achieve for the people of Wales, and Carl achieved so much. He took through the most legislation of any Minister. There are very few Bills and Acts that Carl did not have a hand in. He championed the work being undertaken to end violence against women, homelessness and modern slavery. He became a White Ribbon ambassador, telling how he first experienced witnessing domestic abuse in his neighbourhood following the closure of Shotton steelworks, when he saw his community torn apart. Each year, he supported victims of domestic abuse by walking 'a mile in her shoes', although he always struggled to walk in those stilettoes.

Carl was an amazing politician, a highly skilled negotiator, but not necessarily in the style you might expect from a senior Cabinet Secretary. He knew in order to get the best out of people it was better to persuade and influence over tea and custard creams, or sometimes something stronger. He treated everyone the same, whether it was a constituent who sought his advice, whether he was chatting to royalty at the opening of the National Assembly, speaking to Eton-educated UK Government Ministers, or the bloke sat next to him at the bar in Mischief’s. He was full of fun, and very mischievous at times, but he took his role as an elected representative very seriously, and he was proud to be an advocate for his constituents, particularly those who did not have a voice.

Here in this Assembly, and in Welsh Government, he treated everyone equally. He cared for and supported all of us, his Assembly Member colleagues, not just in our group but across all political parties. He adored the staff in his constituency office and his ministerial private office. The staff in our canteen and here in security were amongst his favourites. He had a special place in his heart for his special and specialist advisers. In Government, he respected his officials and the many Bill teams he worked with. But I think his absolute favourites were the ministerial drivers. They could write a book filled with stories about the many hours they spent travelling around Wales during Carl's 10 years in Government.

Carl had a wicked sense of humour and loved making me and others laugh, often at the most inappropriate times. His banter was legendary and he always won the award for heckler of the year. It was a pleasure to sit next to him in Cabinet and here in the Chamber, where one of Carl's most important jobs was to ensure our shared drawer always had a good supply of sweets. One day, he brought some new ones in and told me just to try one, but I in my usual style grabbed a handful, only to find on eating them they were hot chilli sweets. He could barely contain his gleefulness at my discomfort.

A few years ago, he took up a new hobby and decided to teach himself to crochet. He would sit on the train home with a self-teaching YouTube video, a crochet hook and some wool. It was not without its frustrations; several times, everything ended up on the floor. But, like everything he took up, he soon mastered it and he made some beautiful items. You could see the bemused looks of fellow passengers watching this big, burly guy crocheting a tiny, pink baby bonnet.

Carl was one of the most generous people I have ever met, particularly with his time, and he loved socialising with his family and friends. Behind his burly and jovial exterior was a beautiful, sensitive and vulnerable soul. He always told people how special and unique they were, because he cared how people felt. He was kind to people, and being kind to people is a wonderful legacy to leave behind.

He was my best comrade and friend. I loved him as a brother, and although his pet name for me was 'mother'—even though I of course was not quite old enough to be his mother—I know he loved me as a sister. He cared for me and my girls as an extension of his own family and we are heartbroken he is no longer with us. But our loss is incomparable with the unspeakable grief felt by Bernie, Lucy and Jack, who he loved deeply and of whom he was so proud.

To them, Carl's parents, and all his family, we offer all our love and support over the difficult weeks and months ahead. Carl, I will never forget you and I will miss you deeply. RIP, comrade.

Carl was a person who didn't just wear his heart on his sleeve, he wore many other things on his sleeve, including a tattoo of his favourite drink—a dark and stormy, or, as he would have put it, a dark and stormy, boss. He was not a conventional politician. He was full of charisma and love of life. But he never had an opportunity to validate his academic intelligence with a university degree. That said, I do think he probably possessed a greater degree of emotional intelligence than most of us in this Chamber today.

I first met Carl back in the 1990s, during a time in which he had more hair and I had more weight. We were incredibly excited about the politics of the future. During the course of his first election—. It's worth saying that he never lost an election, nor did he ever lose a selection. During the course of his first election, it became apparent that he had a unique way of speaking with his constituents on the doorstep. He must have met tens of thousands of people during his first election, knocking on so many doors across Alyn and Deeside. He would complete each conversation with the constituents with a slightly abrupt and, given his frame, a slightly menacing, 'Hey', and then he'd follow it up with a meltingly warm, 'You take care'.

He'd say this to everybody. Right to the end, he'd say, 'Take care, bud. Take care, brother. Take care, sister.' And the people he would wish us to take care of most now are his family. His wife, Bernie—Bernie, whose attributes and skills are not learnt through professional development but are intuitive—her understanding, her compassion, are what make her such a good friend and colleague to those she loves. His wonderful daughter, Lucy—again, incredibly compassionate, with such empathy and resilience; somebody who shares her dad's fantastic sense of humour. Then there's Jack—creative, innovative, caring Jack—again, so full of love for the people who are close to him. And we can't forget Joey—little Joey. Nobody puts Joey in the corner—he will attend the funeral. Then there are the wider family members and friends, and the community. Their blood ran through Carl's body, and of this he was immensely proud.

We must obey the weight of these sad times, but speak what we feel, not what we ought to say. I do think that Carl regularly spoke about his feelings, and about his love of his family and his love of life. Carl loved music. He liked to listen to music and he liked to dance to music—to songs like 'I Love to Love', 'Voulez-vouz' and many, many others. Over the entrance to his family and friends room at home—a great room where he'd be able to deejay, share drinks, share stories, share love—are the words of one of his favourite songs:

'Sometimes I feel like throwing my hands up in the air. / I know I can count on you. / Sometimes I feel like saying, "Lord, I just don't care." / But you've got the love I need to see me through.'

I think if there is to be a legacy, a lasting legacy, to Carl, it should be that we should all show a little more love and care for one another, that we should be kinder and more respectful to one another, not just in here but across our society, to change our culture for the better.

Finally, Carl, I would say this to you: there is only one more door you must knock on, but, on behalf of all of those people whose doors were opened, and whose hearts were opened to you—Carl, you take care.

I rise to remember Carl first and foremost as the Chief Whip, and him coming along the corridor every Tuesday morning to see whether I was going to obey the whip. My researcher really thought that was such a nice, caring attitude from the Chief Whip. I won't tell you what I used to say to him, but he would know from that whether we were ready for a row. But Carl never raised his voice. I did—I used to raise my voice down the corridor. I think people could hear what I was going to do on the Learner Travel (Wales) Measure.

I remember coming to that vote, and he asked, 'Well, what are you going to do, then, mate? Come on, mate. Come on, mate—you're supposed to be with us now, mate. What are you going to do?' And I said, 'Wait and see'. Then I decided that I probably would vote with the whip on that occasion, and I called him out to tell him. He thought that I was going to tell him that I wasn't going to do it. We stood in what I know as the Richard Rogers corridor there, and the door was open. I think it was colleagues in the Conservative Party who, when I sat back down, said, 'Oh, I didn't know that's how you spoke to your Chief Whip'. So, that was a lesson for me there.

But Carl never held a grudge. Carl always, always did what he could for the Vale of Clwyd. I did jokingly say today that I was going to get someone to throw a bucket of water over me before I stood to speak, because whenever Carl came in his portfolio as environment Minister, you could guarantee it was pouring with rain, it was howling a gale and we were up to our ankles in mud. The riverbanks of the Elwy, and we were there and I've told this story, and it's kept me going, so I hope it will keep Bernie and the family going. He's standing on the bank and starting to slide, and I'm trying to move back. He's pulling me, and he's 'Come on, come on—we're together on this', and I'm going, 'No, we're not—I'm going back up to the top'.

And then the one that is my favourite is when we stood on Rhyl promenade to open the sea defences. Denbighshire have got a lovely ribbon for us to cut, and provided us with an umbrella that immediately turned inside out. So, Carl just handed that, and the driver was sitting there. We tried to cut this ribbon, and he said to the cameras—the BBC and ITV—he said, 'Well, she calls this sunny Rhyl; the next time you mention sunny Rhyl in the Chamber, I'm going to remind you that we've never been here in sunny Rhyl.' But Carl used to come to Rhyl with his family. Carl knew more about the development of Rhyl than I did at times, because he would walk around those streets, and that was the measure of the man. Carl knew the people in Rhyl as much as he knew the people in Connah's Quay, because we are similar—the same communities—and that was where Carl had his heart: in that community of people whose voices were not heard, or sometimes not heard loudly enough. Carl used to say to me, 'Listen mate, never ever forget—just you keep doing what you're doing for your area, because that's important'. 

The one thing that I will always remember Carl for is domestic fire safety—so, you see, we're back to water again—and sprinklers. Carl got those regulations through and it means that we have safe houses in Wales. Even after the Grenfell Tower disaster, Carl right up until the last was finding a way in which he could protect those communities who perhaps didn't understand they needed protecting—but that we would protect them. So, that is the legacy of the man—a great man, a huge personality, made me laugh, made me cry, and frustrated me at times. But, above all, Carl was, and still is, a man of his own community, and I will miss him. 

Bernie, we're all going to miss Carl more than you'll ever believe, but nobody will miss him more than you and the family—Jack and Lucy and everybody else who knew him so well. 

I first met Carl when I was elected in 2007 and somebody, obviously with some sense of humour, put myself and Lesley in the office opposite him. I didn't know what to expect from a Chief Whip; I certainly didn't expect Carl, I think that's fair to say. I remember coming back up from a vote down here up to the corridor—he'd always managed to get there before me; I don't know how he managed it—and you'd hear the music blaring from his office. You'll know, Becks, as you were working for him at the time. You'd walk past the office and Carl would be sitting down dancing with his music coming from—well, I never quite worked out where—and Becks would be sitting smiling, and myself and Lesley and others would walk in there and chat and talk, and everybody was smiling. It was a great introduction to this place and to Carl, and whenever I think of Carl I think of that smile we can see in front of us. I can hear his voice sometimes: 'Morning, bro, you're late' or 'Where are you, boss? I got this for you an hour ago; where have you been? Drink it'—and all sorts of different times where we shared all sorts of different things. You know, the one thing that is in short supply in politics is trust, and I trusted him completely. I knew whenever anything was happening that I could always pick up the phone to Carl, or I'd get a text from him. He almost knew it when there was something going on in any of our lives. It was, 'How are you, brother?', 'How are you, boss?', 'What are you up to, boss?', 'Where are you, boss?', 'Are you around, boss?', 'Come out', 'Where are you?'—and he would always be there.

You know, when we talk about Carl, we talk about his achievements in politics. I always remember him as a very, very decent and honourable, authentic friend and a mate of mine. The last few words he used to me were, 'All right, mate?', and it was everything I wanted to hear at that time. And, you know, Carl was a guy who wore his responsibilities lightly. You'd never have guessed that he had the achievements behind him that he had. But he cared deeply—he cared deeply—and all of us who worked alongside him know how deeply held his convictions were, and how deeply he cared about what he was doing and how deeply he believed in fair play and social justice. Fair play ran through Carl. It ran through everything he was. He grew up in Connah's Quay, and it was something that stayed with him. And whenever we were having conversations, it would always come back to that fairness and fair play. And you know, Bernie, we'll always remember that, and we'll always make sure that Carl has fair play. In everything that we do and everything that we say in remembering him, we'll remember that smile.

I knew what he was thinking in meetings because he'd be texting me. I wish he hadn't. There were all sorts of colleagues and comrades making very serious points and I'd see him looking at me and I'd think, 'Oh my God, not another text message.' I'd open the text message and I would spend time listening to a serious debate suppressing my giggles because Carl—and I can see him across there now—would be smiling at me and winking at me, knowing the discomfiture he's caused me. 

In remembering our friend, our colleague, we've all used very similar words, actually. We've all written our tributes separately but we've all come back to very similar words: authentic and generous and caring and kind. We all knew the same man. Bernie, you'll miss him. I know you're going to miss him and I know how terribly you're going to miss him, with Jack and Lucy and everybody else, but I want you to know that this institution will miss him as well. Our country will miss him. We're all the better for having known him. Thank you. 

When I first arrived at this place some 10 and a half years ago, I expected it to be very tribal and highly party-politicised. Naturally, in some ways it was. However, it was this unassuming gentle giant who convinced me that, outside this Chamber, it wasn't and it isn't like that. It was Carl's warmth, his affection and his kindness that persuaded me that our party politics should stay in this Chamber and that, outside, our humanity should always come first. That's why it was always a pleasure to be in his company and I always enjoyed having a drink with the big man.

Of course, it was clear he loved the Labour Party and it was clear he loved his constituency and representing his local area. His dedication and commitment to the people he represented always shone through in all the discussions I had with him. For me, he was fun to be with and there was always a glint in his eye. Every time I saw him, he oozed that cheeky chappy attitude. You never knew what he would say, which made being with him all the more entertaining.

That sense of fun certainly came through when, a few years ago, some of us in this Chamber celebrated Lesley Griffiths's birthday. I remember we arrived in a well-known Cardiff Bay pub and I recall standing at the bar when, suddenly, I started to hear friends and colleagues around me laughing. I glanced across and all I saw was Carl pointing to his jumper. I then looked at what I was wearing and I realised, to my horror, that we were wearing an identical jumper. But it doesn't end there. In fact, we were both also wearing dark trousers and, of course, as you would expect, someone started calling us twins. For those of you who've seen the 1988 film Twins, starring Arnold Schwarzenegger and Danny DeVito—well, Carl insisted for the rest of the evening that he was Danny DeVito and not me. 

That's what I will always remember about Carl. Every time I was with him, we would laugh. But he was a serious and committed politician who cared about his constituents, and he got people. He understood people. After all, politics is about people and Carl definitely got that.

Llywydd, for me, I will miss a political opponent. I will miss his banter in this place. I will miss his funny comments in this Chamber. But more importantly, I will miss a personal friend. 

Diolch, Llywydd. Before I start to pay tribute, I want to offer my condolences to Bernie, to Jack, to Lucy and the family. In all the coverage of the loss of our friend Carl, one word and one word alone keeps getting repeated, and that is the word 'authentic'. Everything about Carl rang true. It was obvious to everyone who met him that Carl was in politics for the right reasons. Intellectually, instinctively, head and heart, he understood and he cared deeply about the people and places he represented. People radiated back that warmth to him, not only in Connah's Quay and north Wales but wherever he went. Ultimately, it was this authenticity that made Carl such a powerful campaigner.

The White Ribbon Campaign, which we will mark this month, is all about men challenging attitudes to violence against women. Carl was instrumental in promoting the campaign both as a man and as a Minister. He had seen the impact of domestic violence in his own community and he wanted to tackle that. As an authentic voice of working-class Welsh men—there's that word again—the impact of his support is hard to overstate.

In Government, he championed and skilfully steered through Wales's pioneering ending of violence against women legislation, and that was a huge achievement. This year's campaign will, of course, inevitably be coloured by our deep sadness and deep loss, but at the vigils and the events that we will attend, both here in the Assembly and across Wales, we will honour Carl's lasting legacy.

Long before I had the huge privilege of serving as Carl's deputy in Government, I worked for him here as his researcher while he was still on the back benches. Even back then, Carl put his own unique and colourful stamp on everything he did, and our office was no different. I'm quietly confident that our office was the first, and to this date the only, office to boast a fluffy white lampshade, a purple lava lamp and a statue of Eeyore [Laughter.] Those years working for Carl were a joy, and I will always be grateful to him for his kindness and his generosity to both me and my husband Paul.

Working for Carl was every bit as fun as you would imagine it would be, but behind the jokes and behind the laughter was a deep seriousness about making life better for his constituents and a driving passion for social justice. I'll remember always how proud and excited I was when Carl was first promoted to his ministerial role. After a couple of weeks, I asked him, 'So, Carl, what's it like being in Government?' 'Ah mate', he said, 'I keep telling everyone to call me Carl, but everyone keeps on calling me Minister. I say, "Call me Carl"; they say, "Of course, Minister."' And that was Carl; he never got caught up in his own importance. He believed everyone was equal and he treated everyone the same.

In the 14 years I knew Carl I knew him as the big man with a big heart, and he wore that big heart on his sleeve. We all know the causes that he was passionate about and the things he loved: fairness, equality, social justice and kindness.

We're mourning now because we're sad we will never see our friend again, but in time our best tribute to him will be to finish the work he started. 

In my tribute, I want to share my memories of Carl as a man who was witty, loving, lovable, deeply principled and a good friend, comrade and ministerial colleague. The impact he had as a Minister and Cabinet Secretary is on record and is shared here this afternoon, and I want to add my tribute from my experience.

Carl was appointed Minister for Social Justice and Local Government just before the coalition cuts started to impact on our budgets. He was wholly committed to local government, social justice, housing, regeneration and transport—all the briefs he held during those difficult times for public finances. As Finance Minister, I wanted to work with him to help him achieve what he wanted, and he wanted more money for social housing. It's that sort of ministerial partnership that is the most rewarding. I backed him; we got the money out when we could in difficult times, providing homes for those most in need. He said, 'Thank you, Jane.' I said, 'Thank you, Carl.' 

I also want to say something about Carl as Chief Whip. Others have commented on this. He reigned—I think that's the expression. He reigned as Chief Whip, with humour, intelligence and tact. Being Chief Whip got into his blood so that I could always rely on him to back me up when I took on that role. He was always Chief Whip even when he was doing all these other ministerial roles. And if you recall, across this Chamber, he was always ready to shout 'Object' when he feared I wasn't on the ball—[Laughter.]—or my voice was a bit timid. That was, of course, at the end of a debate that we would be amending or opposing as a Government—a crucial role he played.

But I also bring memories shared by constituents in the Vale of Glamorgan. Kay Quinn reminded me of Carl's visit to Atal y Fro in Barry, showing his formidable leadership in tackling domestic abuse and violence against women. The response from BAWSO last week, from Mutale Merrill, was:

'We have lost a champion.'

He came to Barry to help move forward the regeneration that has made such an impact on our town, and he was warmly welcomed when he launched the housing refurbishment in Gibbonsdown that has transformed the lives of people living on that estate.

On the campaigning level, I remember walking across the cliffs at Nash Point with Carl on a freezing February day during the 2015 general election campaign, when he announced a moratorium on fracking as Minister for environment. He made that decision, and immediately wrote to all local authorities with his instructions—a Minister who meant what he said and delivered on it.

Thank you, Carl, as we remember you, beloved by your family, to whom we express our deepest sympathies today, this afternoon, loved and respected by us all here today, a man and a Minister who served Wales so well, greatly admired and greatly missed.

Can I first of all extend my deepest condolences to the family and friends of Carl Sargeant, and particularly those on the Assembly estate who knew him very well and with whom he was also friends? I do that on behalf of myself and my Plaid Cymru colleagues here, but also the Plaid Cymru colleagues who are no longer here who worked with him in the past as well.

I first came to know Carl, like many, I think, in 2007, when he became the Labour Chief Whip and I was appointed as the special adviser to the Plaid Cymru half of the coalition Government. The first thing I did after our carefully constructed coalition was realise that Carl was a bit of the grit in the oyster, because he was an extra member of Cabinet who shouldn't have been there. What was a Chief Whip doing attending Cabinet when we'd worked out carefully the numbers of Ministers and Deputy Ministers and the balance between the parties? 'Was this going to be a problem?', I wondered. Well, as we've already heard from Ann Jones, who, I think, had enough to do with Carl during that time, it wasn't a problem, because although Carl was completely comfortable and absolutely content in his Labour family, he could extend beyond that, not only to be personal friends with people, but to make political allies. We've already heard Bethan Jenkins's tribute—and she would, of course, have wanted to be here—but the fact that she and Carl, only two or three weeks ago, were standing on the streets selling copies of The Big Issue together shows you, I think, the way that he was able to transcend that real comfort within his Labour family, to also extend that to others who shared his values and who shared his objectives. So, he was not, in fact, a problem as a Government Chief Whip in that coalition Government; he was part of the mechanism that delivered effective Government. He was quite rightly then appointed, I think, as a Minister in future Governments.

But I also remember him at a personal level. I came originally from Aberdare; he came from Connah's Quay. I am told that he'd hardly been to Cardiff before he was elected here, yet he knew places in Cardiff I didn't know. [Laughter.] He knew where to go on a Wednesday night when we got away from here, and I'm very grateful, still, to him and want it to be known how much, as somebody fairly new to the Assembly at that stage, he was generous in his time with me. I saw him dancing in a way that I hadn't seen anyone dance before and singing karaoke, certainly. He was a far better singer and dancer than me—than most of us, I think. And he didn't have to be generous with his time to a Plaid Cymru special adviser. He was, and that shows the measure of the man.

I also think that he reminded me a great deal of the men in my family—working-class men, slightly older, perhaps, than Carl—the next generation, who'd really been left behind by deindustrialisation and who had suffered the consequences of that. Carl very much transcended that, and that authenticity that people have talked about, his ability to take that background, to apply it afresh in a completely new environment and to be true to himself in doing that is something that I think will remain with me.

He also had a Stakhanovite appetite, I think—and I mean that for legislation, of course, which has already been mentioned. But he also did it with a sense of humour. I crossed with him on several committees over the years and I sometimes wondered whether he was taking the legislation all that seriously, actually, so much was the humour that he brought to it. But, of course, this was part of the way that he oiled the wheels of taking legislation through. He was very serious about what he was achieving, and his ability to have passed the Well-being of Future Generations (Wales) Act 2015 is, I think, one of the crowning achievements of any legislature, and he took it through here and did that work for and on behalf of all of us. 

Now, I live on a council estate myself—an adopted one; it's not the one I was born in. It's the one in Penparcau in Aberystwyth, and Carl was due in a fortnight's time to come and open our latest community facility. It's a measure of his commitment that he had constantly asked me about the development of that facility, that he'd been open about how that community was coming together post Communities First, to work for the poorest in that community. He showed as much care, attention and questioning about a small community outside Aberystwyth as he did for the community he represented, and I think that stands as a testament to his contribution.

I first met Carl when he was elected to the Assembly in 2003, and as we've heard, he took great pride in representing his constituency, and as some here, I think, will remember, when local issues arose, he was sometimes keen to differentiate himself from the regional AMs for north Wales who, of course, covered the whole of the area. And often, he would preface his contributions in the Chamber with, 'As the directly-elected Member for Alyn and Deeside', before going on to make a point or ask a question. I think that struck many of us, in terms of Carl being intent on making an impact and a significant contribution here in the Assembly right from the very beginning, which, of course, he certainly did. Making that transition that others have spoken about from shop-floor factory work and town council to Assembly Member and Welsh Government Cabinet, and making that transition with apparent ease—when you start thinking about that, that's quite a phenomenon.

But we also know that when Carl did arrive in Government he was in no way content to relax and reflect upon that journey. He was absolutely determined to make lives better for people in Wales through the opportunity he had in Government. I think we would all say that he showed real ability, commitment and passion to make that difference for people, in developing and implementing policy and in the legislation—the future generations Act, the legislation on homelessness, the legislation on domestic abuse and others. And I think it was always clear that Carl was always concerned with actually doing things. It wasn't about holding a position, it was about using that position and doing meaningful things for social justice for our communities and people here in Wales.

I certainly count Carl as a great colleague and friend. As Assembly Members and serving in the Cabinet together, he was always very easy to work with, and always had time to talk and discuss. As a Minister taking forward cross-cutting policy, cross-portfolio policy, it wasn't always easy to work jointly with other members of the Government, but when you had that task and you had to meet Carl, you knew that you would always get constructive engagement, and I think that's what was Carl was about. It wasn't about any sort of personal rivalries, it was about getting things done, getting things done jointly and working together. 

Most recently, as Chair of the Equality, Local Government and Communities Committee, myself and the committee worked co-operatively with him, in his Cabinet Secretary for communities role, on our reports on scrutiny, domestic violence, asylum seekers and refugees, Communities First and fire safety, and on pieces of legislation. And true to form, I think what we had from Carl was exactly what we would have expected: he was ready to listen and compromise, but also to stand firm if convinced of the merits or otherwise of a particular proposal or suggestion.

As we've heard, everyone loves a character, and Carl certainly was a character. He was invariably full of fun and warmth, and that was on full display when, together with other Labour AM friends and partners, we travelled north for Carl's fortieth birthday party at Connah's Quay Labour Club—with karaoke, of course. It was just so clear there, so plain to see, how knitted into his community Carl was, how much he was a part of that community, and how much he was respected and valued—and, of course, respected across the political parties and loved by so many in and outside the Assembly: family and friends, his community, Labour colleagues here, throughout the party and movement in Wales and beyond, and in groups and organisations he worked with as a Minister. Our wonderful catering staff and general staff here in the Assembly I know had a very soft spot for Carl, and, as Lesley said, he was a particular favourite of the Welsh Government drivers who, as Lesley also said, I know have many stories to tell.

It is very difficult to accept that Carl will not be around anymore—in this Chamber, at our committees, in the Assembly, in his Alyn and Deeside constituency. He is a great loss to us all, but, of course, most of all, to Bernie, to Jack, to Lucy, to Carl's parents, and our thoughts are very much with them at this time and in the time to come.

I remember the first time I met Carl: back in 2003 in a lift. He was newly elected, in a lift in Tŷ Hywel, and he greeted me with, 'Hi, comrade'. Following that, we became good friends. He never ceased to call me 'comrade' or 'mate', as was his way.

We know that politics can be a cold business, but, in contrast, friendships go to the heart of what it is to be human, and Carl was one of the most human souls I've ever met. He was unique—a one-off. He was friendly, warm, engaging, supportive. He was always supportive when you needed help. He was a sensitive man, and he had turned his hands to most things in his full life, including DJing, and as the First Minister said, he couldn't be beaten at karaoke. He loved music, particularly ABBA and, of course, his beloved Motown. When Billy Ocean's last world tour brought him to Cardiff, Carl was, of course, there at the Motorpoint Arena Cardiff that night, bopping along with the best of them. I will never be able to listen to 'Red Light Spells Danger' in the same light again.

The last time Jen and I properly caught up with Carl was after our wedding, in the bar of the Hilton hotel, where we were staying that evening. Carl had said he would try and see us before the end of the day, and sure to his words, he and his family appeared at the hotel entrance at around midnight. The only problem was that the hotel staff mistook him for a bouncer and wouldn't let him in without some extensive negotiating worthy of the Brexit talks. He did eventually talk his way in.

Carl developed a reputation as a bit of a fixer, so much so that the phrase, 'Draft the Sarge', has passed into common usage in Cardiff Bay. When Jen was once accused by an overzealous guard on Arriva Trains of travelling without a ticket, for some reason I will not go into, it was Carl who she turned to and helped sort it out. She thanked him for that, and I know that many other people were helped by him personally in their own ways. He was not always so helpful to me. I was once approached by a former mayor of Usk with an ambition to restyle his position as the town's portreeve—a small change but one that required a change to the law. I dutifully took the small request to Carl, who looked absolutely baffled as to why I would bother him with something so meaningless. 'No, boss', was the short response. I did try again, a short time later, and he said, 'No, boss' even quicker than the first time. [Laughter.] He knew that politics was about priorities and time was short.

Carl has now left us, but we are still here to carry on with the campaigns close to his heart and to enact the change that he so desired. As Ken Skates said earlier, let us look again at the way we treat one another as human beings, and let this be Carl's legacy. Farewell, comrade, and thank you for the music.

As someone who represented the north-west of north Wales I was delighted when Carl appeared to represent the north-east of north Wales, because one of the great tricks, as colleagues will know, in the north of Wales, is getting us all to work together. But if there was ever a problem, the Sarge would solve it. 

We had a marvellous time on the north Wales express train, and we must keep that train running, if only in celebration of Carl's great life as a politician on that train. He would come on, occasionally it would be the breakfast train—often Lesley would be there as well—and sometimes the supper train, and of course Carl on the supper train was, I'm not saying it was a travelling circus, but it was certainly a travelling lounge, where everyone on the train, in that business class that we have there, was wanting to speak with Carl and express their points of view. And the staff, equally, were always delighted to see Carl join us. And it was on that train that he made the greatest contribution to my life, and to the people I represent.

Mention has been made of what he did for the communities of Wales, for the urban communities, but I want to celebrate and thank him for what he did for the environment of Wales, and in particular for the designated landscapes, because he understood, as someone who was a proper north Walian, who loved both the industrial areas, and the rural areas and the national parks, and the areas of outstanding natural beauty, that it was important that these areas should learn to live together and share their delight. And this was part of his putting legislation into action, because this was the Well-being of Future Generations (Wales) Act 2015, and the Environment (Wales) Act 2015, actually put to work. And Lesley, of course, took on that work on future landscapes, and it has now happened. 

I was approached by someone with great excitement a few months ago, saying 'Were you at that meeting in Aberystwyth?' And I said, 'What meeting was I supposed to be at in Aberystwyth?' And they said, 'Well, for the first time ever, the national parks and the areas of outstanding natural beauty were in the same room.' And that was down to Carl. 

This morning, at our cathedral of Llandaff, during our Welsh language eucharist for St Dyfrig's Day, the canon prayed for this National Assembly, for the Government of Wales, and for you as a family. Let it be known to you that you will be in our prayers and our thanks for the life of Carl as long as this institution exists. 

Diolch, Llywydd. Carl Sargeant, Assembly Member for Alyn and Deeside was my friend, is my friend, and will forever be my friend. No words are sad enough to express his loss. To Bernie, Carl's wife, and to Jack and Lucy, his son and daughter, I want you to know that you do not walk alone. There are many Members of this National Assembly for Wales who loved and respected Carl. As a proud feminist, I want it stated on the record that no other Assembly Member, in the two decades of Welsh devolution, has been as passionate to champion the progress of women's and children's rights and causes through legislation than Carl Sargeant. One of Wales's prominent reporters, Martin Shipton, noted that, as Minister for social justice, he became known as champion of equality and women's rights and backed a succession of initiatives aimed at tackling domestic violence.

Carl, a friend to me, but also a friend to the people that I represent, the people of Islwyn. Carl was the genuine article; an authentic, working-class politician, he did speak the language of the man and woman on the street. And when he visited Islwyn, the affection was obvious. His exuberance and sheer decency was evident to all that met him. Carl was truly the antithesis of the polished, plastic politician. And as a proud candidate for Islwyn, I wondered, when I met him for the first time, what on earth had arrived when I saw him. I was greeted by a large man, in a dark grey jumper with a hole in it, that had seen better days. Later, I realised that he and his close colleague Ken Skates had been working tirelessly, touring the length and breadth of our country together, fighting for the next Labour Government. The genuine article. 

And in May 2016, when I became an AM, nobody was more accommodating, friendly and keen to make sure that I settled into life in the Senedd than Carl. He was a gifted negotiator and communicator. He was not conceited or proud, but a humble man, generous in spirit, and—rare in politics—Carl did bring a smile into the room that would often end in laughter, whatever important issues he was progressing.

I know my Labour predecessors, Islwyn Assembly Members, Irene James and Gwyn Price, stand with me and the people of Islwyn in regarding Carl Sargeant as a true comrade. We grieve for him today. And it is almost unbearable to believe that he died not knowing how much we loved and respected him, and for that I am truly sad.

Carl was a man of all occasions: the people's view of what a politician should be, not just a people's person, but the people's politician; a socialist, who never forgot his roots, or his community that he so loved.

Carl, I counted you as my friend, and this place will never for me be the same without your presence. Your progressive and innovative legislative legacy, and your memory, will remain to inspire and motivate us all to make a better Wales, a better society. And, at this bleakest of times, I remember the words of Louise Haskins:

'Go out into the darkness and put your hand into the Hand of God. That shall be to you better than light and safer than a known way.'

You are not alone; we stand with you. And, Carl, we deeply mourn your passing. Diolch.

Last week was a very devastating week, I think, for Welsh politics. In the most tragic of circumstances, a family lost a dedicated husband and father, Alyn and Deeside, and north Wales, lost a very hard-working and effective Assembly Member, and I, along with many others in this Chamber, lost a very kind and gentle friend.

I can remember arriving in the Senedd for the first time, after my election back in 2007, and taking my seat in the Senedd. And, looking across at the Labour benches, I clocked Carl, and I immediately thought that he would be better suited to being a nightclub door attendant in Rhyl, than he would be a politician. But, you know, those first impressions couldn't have been much wronger. He was an absolutely stunning politician. He was a wonderful human being, and, as we've already learned this afternoon, his record was one of delivery—yes, for the Welsh Government, but also for the Labour Party, for his constituents, and for the things that he was personally very passionate about. And while he cut a very unorthodox-looking figure, for a politician, underneath the very tough exterior he had a very kind heart that was always seeking to fight for the underdog, whoever those underdogs were.

Remembrance Sunday has just passed, and it reminded me not just of the sacrifice of the fallen, but also of what a fantastic champion the armed forces community and veterans across Wales had in Carl Sargeant, holding that portfolio, representing their views around the Cabinet table, and across the country. And, of course, he wasn't just a friend to the armed forces, he was a tremendous friend of faith communities as well, across Wales. I know how greatly faith communities, faith groups—of all religions—appreciated his work and engagement through the faith communities forum.

And, of course, Carl had an infectious smile, and boy could he make me laugh. As a fellow north Walian, he reached out to me in friendship, particularly in my early days in the Assembly, and I can remember him asking me one day, 'You alright, boss? How are you settling in?' So, I told him I'd found an apartment in the bay, and was busy setting it up, and the apartment happened to be in the same complex as Carl's apartment. 'I've got a spare mattress if you want it', he said, 'I'll bring it round later.' And then he said this: 'It'll be no good for you—you're too fat.' He said, 'But it'll be alright for your kids.'

And there was another occasion, you know, during an Assembly recess, I'd brought the family down to Cardiff. And I took them swimming one morning, in the complex where the apartment was. Imagine my surprise when, that afternoon, I received a text message from Carl. It simply said this: 'You look terrible in those swimming trunks.' Unbeknown to me, he'd been peering through the window while I was in the pool. You know, he was a cheeky flamer, but I loved him all the more for it.

And then there were the chats. We'd have chats, sometimes in the tearoom, sometimes in the corridor, sometimes in Mischief's or The Packet—all about family life. He absolutely adored his family. He spoke of them often and he was extraordinarily proud of them. I want to say this to Bernie, to Lucy and to Jack today: thank you so much for sharing Carl with us, we loved him dearly and we're going to miss him greatly. 

I just wanted to say a few words, because he was well known in the Pontypridd, Rhondda Cynon Taf and Taff Ely area, and it was a tribute to Carl that, as a proud north Walian, the people of Pontypridd and Taff Ely were never able to hold that against him.

He was down in my constituency, in Rhydyfelin, only a couple of weeks ago on a childcare issue, and we were there, we were lined up, the tv cameras were there and he was going to make an announcement. I'd put a clean shirt on and was suited and we were all there waiting, and then this car pulls up and this scruffy guy gets out, scruffy hair, unshaven, dirty jumper on and it was Carl, and I thought, 'My God. Carl, what's happened?' He said, 'Oh, I've just been selling The Big Issue for a couple of hours. I've still got a couple to sell later on.' And then we had this great fear that we were going to have the announcement and Carl would then suddenly start selling everyone The Big Issue. 

One of the first people to contact me after the tragic news came out was the leader of Rhondda Cynon Taf County Borough Council. It is a tribute just how many people respected and admired Carl, knew of him and his work and valued the contribution he'd made to our communities. So, the only comment I really want to make, on top of everything that's been said, is that the contribution you made in the Pontypridd and Taff Ely area is well recognised and will not be forgotten. 

I'm a relative latecomer to Carl's fan club. I first met Carl as a candidate in 2011, when he came to support my campaign for the redevelopment of a dismal shopping centre that was well past its sell-by date. Carl was a fantastic campaigner. He was also a great problem solver, as others have said. Julie Morgan and I will be forever grateful to Carl for negotiating a solution to the 15-year campaign to save Llanishen reservoir. The reservoir had been drained in a final act of corporate vandalism by Western Power Distribution, who wanted to concrete it over with luxury housing, but it was obvious that the new owners, CELSA Group, had neither the money nor the know-how to reinstate the reservoir. So, Carl stepped up and managed to persuade Dŵr Cymru to take it over, and thanks to Carl the reservoir will be refilled and safeguarded for future generations. 

It was my privilege to work very closely with Carl over the last four years on all of the legislation that he will be remembered for. As the First Minister has already said, it is the path-breaking wellbeing of future generations Act for which Carl will be remembered most. I do recall that when he was first appointed as the Minister for Natural Resources it's fair to say he was not an enthusiast, because he wondered whether it would have any impact beyond a piece of window dressing and Carl wasn't interested in laws that sit on the shelf gathering dust. He wanted everything he did to make a difference. However, once the Cabinet had persuaded him that they were serious about this groundbreaking Bill, he entered into it with all the gusto and enthusiasm that he'd previously applied to the cause of domestic violence. What he created was a Bill that was backed up by public support and that everyone could understand. Indeed, the programme for government talks about the future generations Act being enshrined in law, our commitment to develop policy and making decisions that will maximise our impact on the long-term good of our country, and Carl should always be remembered for that. He was indeed a brilliant Minister to work with, because he listened. He deliberated on what backbenchers had to say and if he didn't have the answer immediately to hand, I can hear him saying, 'I'll come back to you on that' and he always did.

Private rented tenants can thank Carl for the registration of landlords, so they know how to get hold of their landlord in an emergency. He'd already set in motion the legislation to abolish letting agency fees, which cause so many private tenants so much financial grief. And, on 24 October, the last time that Carl introduced any ministerial initiatives, Carl announced that there'd been so many quality applications for his innovative housing programme that he'd managed to persuade the Cabinet Secretary for Finance to nearly double the capital funds to deliver low-carbon quality homes fit for the twenty-first century. Carl was a true leader, an exemplary representative of Alyn and Deeside, and an outstanding Minister. 

The enduring image I want to treasure of Carl is Carl in a pink feather boa and enormous pink-framed glasses posing with his good friend and neighbouring constituency AM Lesley Griffiths. He deliberately chose the most outrageous props available as he wasn't scared to be laughed at in aid of a good cause, and he wanted you to laugh with him in support of Wear it Pink breast cancer awareness. He created so much laughter in our lives, and touched people who worked in every aspect of the Assembly's work. But our loss is as nothing compared to the pain suffered by his family and his community.

Thank you all for your warm and sincere contributions reflecting the tremendous affection and respect felt towards Carl Sargeant across this Chamber. There are others of you who'd have liked to speak this afternoon, but I've not been able to call all. I'll make sure that the list of speakers for this afternoon is shared with the family.

Carl's achievements as both Minister and Assembly Member were many, and, as such, his legacy will continue to touch the lives of many people across the nation for years to come. We come to this Assembly from many and varied backgrounds, representing every community in Wales. Sometimes this place can change us. It didn't change Carl Sargeant. He remained true to his community and his background. The Carl I first met in 2003 was the same Carl in this Chamber only two weeks ago. He influenced us, not the other way round, and his constituents and his causes had no finer champion in this place.

I now bring this session to a close. The bell will be rung five minutes before we reconvene. I ask you to leave this Chamber in silence and to do so in fond and lasting memory of our friend, our comrade, ein cyfaill, Carl Sargeant. 

Plenary was suspended at 13:47.

The Assembly reconvened at 14:00, with the Presiding Officer in the Chair.