A week ago today at about 9am, Val Smith died. She was former Lord Mayor of Oxford, Sheriff and wife of local MP Andrew Smith.

The clock stopped for many people at that moment. Something significant happened, but what exactly was it and why did people across the city, county and political divide join in a crescendo of thanks for her life?

What’s so great about Val Smith? She was a politician representing Blackbird Leys for 27 years. Politicians have such a bad image at the moment.

On all sides I hear people say: “You can’t trust a word they say.” or “They are all in it for themselves.” There are so few examples of public service nowadays that many voters find it hard to comprehend what it means.

Well, it means Val Smith.

In the words of her good friend and colleague, Councillor Christine Simm, “For Val, the most important thing in her life was her family, and she wanted those things which make for a happy and nurturing family life for everyone: a secure roof over your head, an income sufficient that you don’t dread the arrival of every bill, and an education that enriches your life and enables you to earn a living and make a contribution. She knew what made for a life well lived and the thing that drove her was also knowing that applies to everyone, equally.

“Val hated unfairness, hated inequality and loathed policies that undermined ordinary people struggling to keep going faced with a world that just made their lives harder and harder. She did everything in her power to try to make things better, both in terms of getting the policies right and providing hands on help.

“Val went out most weekends in her ward talking with people and listening to their worries. Canvassing with Val was a nightmare – everywhere we went there was someone who wanted to show her a letter they needed help with, or a new kitchen, or a new baby – she just kept disappearing! On doorstep after doorstep there would be someone saying how Val had helped them, or their mum or one of their children.”

I interviewed Val several times and knew she was obviously a clever and canny politician. She read all the policy documents and could cut to the chase and see what the impact would be on ordinary people.

But she was also very funny and warm. Even though her husband was a member of the Cabinet and she attended parties at 10 Downing Street, she always thought of herself as a working class woman and never got above herself. That’s how she talked to people.

That’s exactly how she talked to me in the autumn of 1999-2000 when Val was the Lord Mayor of Oxford and a guest on my BBC Radio Oxford outside broadcast at the Westgate shopping centre to promote the annual sleep out in St Clement’s Churchyard to help homeless people.

One shop wheeled out a bed for us to do the interview on.

She had instructions for me. “If we’re going to bounce on this bed, you bounce over there. I’ll bounce here and don’t smile too much or we’ll get entirely the wrong headlines tomorrow.”

Christine Simm, in her tribute to Val this week at Oxford City Council’s annual meeting, found the words to express what many felt: “For us here today, her loss is deeply personal. Grief is hard. There are no shortcuts and it has to be endured.

“But walking alongside grief is comfort, the human instinct to reach out and provide solace. For me, the comfort is that for 30 years I had this clever, brave, loyal, funny and loving woman as my friend. I can end this tribute with no better words than these spoken by her beloved husband Andrew on election night: ‘Thank you, Val, the dream lives on’.”