The first thing to know about Col is that his heart was absolutely based in the centre of his family, round me, the children, and then his siblings and the rays reached ever outward.  He loved family gatherings and hearing all about everyone, and he was extremely proud of all their achievements.
 
The next things to remember is that he was stubborn and focussed like a laser on his next interest or aim.  And as he was also very competitive, he had a lot to aim at.  Motorcycling, playing squash, crosswords, Wordles, and he was also quietly proud of his record 200-metre run at the School District Sports, which stood for a long time.  I say quietly proud, but I did hear it mentioned quite frequently. He was highly proficient at cryptic crosswords, and we often did them together.  Col did 85% of the puzzle, and I occasionally got some of the rarer 15% of words. He never let a crossword go unfinished, even if it took 3 or 4 days. We were proud of winning a prize in the Saturday Guardian crossword puzzle competition. His memory of music titles and bands was also awesome and useful for quizzes.
 
The competitive spirit when motorcycling sometimes led to a hairy moment.  Early on we were travelling somewhere or other in the winter, togged up with many layers to try and keep the cold out, when a car driver cut in front of the bike at a roundabout.  Col was so furious he chased the car round the roundabout so that he could shout and flash a V sign at the driver.  Col forgot he was wearing waterproof mittens over his gloves, so the car driver just thought he was waving …
 
At sixteen, Col’s ambition was – me! And of course, who could resist such attention.  A little while later, he got my mother’s approval.  She had heard us chatting and laughing together and told me that I should marry Col because he made me laugh (amongst other valid reasons).  She was right, we were married 2 years later and carried on laughing together for 52 more years; although Col said it was because I was laughing at him, not with him!
 
Col found a way to talk easily with everyone and could pitch some very amusing stories.  With old friends, colleagues, co-parents-in-law, our children’s friends, neighbours and new friends, everyone remembers his big grin, his “cheerful chuckle” and his “excellent one-liners”. 
He could make our children and grandchildren laugh till their tummies hurt by his rendition of some ordinary fairy tale.  He was only very recently being the Grandadiator (you must watch the TV programme Gladiators to understand) with the littlest grandchildren.  And our children have inherited their musicality from him, along with a stock of Irish folk songs and other miscellaneous hits such as “Leaning on a Lamp post at the Corner of the Street”, as they so often listened to him playing the guitar to them at night.  Col was interested in all kinds of music, though latterly his favourite was probably jazz. 
 
Col trained to be a management accountant (it seemed a useful career in 1972) which involved a lot of exams as well as working.  We decided to have a break before the last exams and to take a motorcycle journey to India or even possibly to Australia.  I can’t remember why we decided this, I think it was just because we could.  We set off on the bike, almost exactly 50 years ago, with far too much luggage, most of which we shed in campsites across Europe.  We had a wonderful, exciting journey and did reach Delhi and the Taj Mahal. We had to start making our way back to the UK then, as I was affected by inflammatory rheumatism, an immune reaction to an infection.  By the time we reached Kandahar in south Afghanistan, I was unable to ride the bike any longer, and Col arranged for me to be repatriated from Kabul.  With his usual determination, he saw me off on the plane, and then started on his way back home.  He had to leave the bike at the Afghan border, but carried on by bus, managed to get a plane back from Tehran, and arrived home only two weeks after me.
 
During the journey, Col showed how much he loved me. In Kabul, I wanted a horse ride in the beautiful park there.  You could hire a horse, but each rider was accompanied by an Afghan man.  Col couldn’t ride, and didn’t like horses, but because I couldn’t go without him being with me, he agreed to go.  He was ignominiously hauled on to a horse, led by the guide, and bumped about through the park, while I (unintentionally) galloped off on a wonderful horse which I couldn’t really control.  Both my guide alongside me and I were out of breath at the end.  We were so lucky to return unscathed.  I always respected Col so much for that generosity in doing something he hated just for me.
 
A few years later, with our three lovely children and by now living in Chelmsford, Col the risk-taker, with my support, planned to go into business for himself.  With a partner, Mike, premises were found, kilns purchased, business plans approved, customers hunted down (I mean identified), and Castyle Limited, ceramic tile decoration and distribution, was set up and carried on for nearly 30 years.  The business survived two recessions, a surge in imports from China and the EU, health and safety controls, energy price issues, and the pandemic; we finally sold the premises and closed the business two years ago.  I was so proud of Col for the decisions he made and how he steered through the rocky times.  His concentration and obstinacy were vital to solving the problems of the business.
 
Col conducted his business life with integrity and maintained his principled values throughout. He worked on the kiln lines if they were short-staffed, although he was not allowed on the quality selection line as he was not accurate enough!  He and Mike rendered to HMRC what was required and cared for the workforce with practicality and generosity. When the business closed in 2021, the remaining employees felt that they were losing a family.
 
Col had an overwhelming distaste for the establishment, whether it was political, educational, or organised religion.  I listened to many a rant during the lockdowns on the inadequacies of the government.  He became a frequent writer of emails to his MP.  There were so many issues to write about!  Col had a strong sense of fairness and justice, always siding with those suffering from bureaucratic stupidity.
 
It was no surprise that when he retired, he was very happy to start volunteering with a Chelmsford charity organisation, English for All, which aims to further communication skills and cultural knowledge for refugees and families from all nations.  Col loved to join the learners on a Monday, and laugh with them and at himself, as they would attempt to translate some British idiom like “A bee in your bonnet” into three or four other languages.  He respected the learners so much for their determination and working so hard to make new lives in Britain.
 
We were able to fulfil another of Col’s ambitions a few years ago, in buying a little house in France just across the Channel.  Col loved France and the French because of the strong family ethic, family meals together, and because everyone says “Bonjour” in shops and streets; also because of the availability of red wine.  He loved going to the house and it became our “bolthole”.  His determination showed itself again as he decided to improve his GCSE French.  He practised every day and was really making progress.  Interestingly, even before that he never seemed to have a problem in cafes and bars communicating with other drinkers. 
 
Col was, as one of our friends wrote last week, “A modest man with a big personality” with a positive attitude to life.  He was also, he used to quip, a Tall Man; but he said he was keeping that hidden so as not to intimidate others (he was 5 foot six).
 
He was a lovely man.  Kind, steadfast and true. 
And just as he cared for me in our 55 years together, I will keep him with me always.