Peter Shortell
I remember driving around Cambridge with John in his Singer 9 with pre-selector gear box. When he and Stewart Reddaway shared a room in our third year, overlooking the Fellows Garden, a group of us decided it was the perfect venue for a private dinner. Afterwards we strolled out on to the bridge and one of the cigar smokers threw his stub into the river. It was promptly pounced on by a duck. For a brief moment there was a duck apparently smoking a cigar – but nobody had a camera.
In later years I remember John at one of our 10-year reunions. We strolled back to our rooms in Mem Court reminiscing about the old days. Looking back that was probably the last time I saw him, though of course we did not know that at the time.
For the day of his wedding, John suggested a few of us might like to meet up first at a local pub. We were surprised to find that John was there himself. Rosemarie appreciated the choice of venue since it was one of the few pubs that sold coffee in those far off days.
Our condolences to the family – another one of the good guys gone to rest.