In memoriam: John Wilson

John Wilson (1928-2023)

Links

• A slideshow of his life: https://vimeo.com/897779010
• A playlist of tunes marking his passing and from his past: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/56Hhs1DXf6ROmUKW81s3Eb?si=9a111878b9e84994 (Please suggest any other tunes that would have meant something to him and yourself.)

A Son's Eulogy, as delivered at Christ Church on Thursday 18th January 2024

Footnotes contain paragraphs excised from the original text in order either to shorten the tribute or to avoid duplication.

Administration

Thank you so much for coming to my father's memorial service.

I am Gavin, John and Pauline's sole surviving son. Very sadly my brother Neil died of a brain tumour four years ago. We never thought we would be conducting funerals in this order, but such are the tragedies that sometimes befall us.

Neil Wilson (1961-2020)

My mother Pauline is here today, but she is too frail to come to the lectern. I hope she does not mind my saying that she is now 90. Dad was 95 when he died. For me, they represent the very end of their generation. They have outlived all the Radlett friends of my childhood. Today none is around to give a eulogy for Dad.

So instead, it will take three of us to pay tribute to John:

• I will speak about Dad's early life.
• Christopher Barstow, a former colleague, will talk about Dad's career in the unfamiliar field of Average Adjusting.
• And finally my sister-in-law, Jane, will speak about John's later life, and his relationship with my brother.

Dad's Character

When I was considering my career choices at university, my mother said I could aim to be either a big fish in a small pond, or a small fish in a large pond. I chose the IT industry as my pond and never achieved more than being a very small fish. Dad was the opposite: he rose from the bottom to become a big fish in what was — and I apologise to the Average Adjusters here for saying this — not such a big pond.

My father was a cautious, conservative man. I never saw him drunk. Perhaps the wildest thing he did was to appear in the chorus of a Radlett Light Operatic Society production.

I would imagine he was quite a well-recognised figure in Radlett, even if not everyone knew his name. After all, he had lived here since 1957.

He would leave home every weekday at ten past eight, get the same train, and return home at six fifteen^[19]. Like Reggie Perrin, he would have completed most of the Telegraph crossword.

If the people of Radlett hadn't spotted him commuting, they may have noticed him as the pensioner cycling in a bright yellow jacket.

And most recently, he would have been known by the residents of Faggotts Close as the very frail old man trying each day to get some exercise and perhaps strike up a chat.

He was a genial man. His years of giving lectures and after-dinner speeches put him at ease with people, although I suspect he was more a technical expert than a natural leader.

Dad believed in self-help, but he was always sympathetic towards the little guy at the bottom of every organisation, because that was where he had started. He never complained about poor service, and in restaurants, he never sent food back.^[8]

The Early Years

Unknown Dad

John with an Aunt in Sheringham

Dad would often talk about what things were like "in his day". Yet he revealed almost nothing about his origins. It wasn't until I was about 30, for example, when my in-laws moved to the north Norfolk coast, that Dad admitted he had been raised in Letheringsett, a village five miles from my in-laws' new home.

Dad was unnecessarily ashamed of one aspect of his early years — something over which he had no control. He was born out of wedlock. Until he was 17, he had, like the present Archbishop of Canterbury, believed that his father was the man his mother had married. Unlike Luke Skywalker, he never discovered who his real father was^[21].

His mother was a Norfolk woman called Edna Turner. The man she married was a Camden bus driver called Eric Wilson.

Dad's Childhood

When Dad turned 11, he won a scholarship to Christ's Hospital School in Horsham. But his mother's husband would not let him take the place. So instead Dad went to a local school in north London^[9].

He didn't stay there long, because in 1939, his school was evacuated to Bedmond in Hertfordshire^[1]. He lodged with a teacher who spotted his academic ability and re-kindled his ambition.

Edna Turner

He had left his mother behind in London. But while evacuated, he learnt that that she had died of tuberculosis. TB was seen as a disease of the poor and of the overcrowded, and that might be another reason why Dad told us so little about his childhood^[2].

Hogg Lindley & Hyelm

Dad returned to London in 1942 but, for whatever reason, he left school at the age of 14, and started work as an office boy at Hogg Lindley. In its various incarnations, it would employ him all his working life.

When he turned 18, Dad did his National Service, joining the RAF. For the first time he saw his birth certificate, which told him he was a Turner, not a Wilson.

It is hard to imagine what went through his mind when he realised that he was not related to the man who had prevented him from taking the place at Christ's Hospital^[10].

In the early 1950s he lived at Hyelm, a Hampstead mansion which provided affordable accommodation and a collegiate atmosphere for young but impoverished professional men^[3].

Pauline

At this time he met one Pauline Mellors, a secretary from Nottinghamshire. She was working at Hoare Govett, a City stockbroker, and shared a flat opposite the British Museum^[4].

One thing must have led to another, because in March 1955 the two were married in Pauline's home village of Rampton. That same year they placed an order for a house to be built at 52, Shenley Hill. It wasn't ready to move into for another two years, so they rented rooms in a Muswell Hill flat^[5].

Building a Family

Gavin & Neil

I turned up in 1959, and Neil two years later. These were the baby boom years: Shenley Hill consisted of a long line of new houses, all of which had been sold to young couples. Each family, as far as I can remember, had precisely two children. The abundance of children of similar ages meant we did not want for friends. We had a carefree childhood, both of us attending Cobden Hill Infants School — now a gated community on Watling Street — and then Edge Grove prep, just off the Watford Road.

Every school holiday, Mum would drive us up to Rampton, to stay with her parents, and to play boardgames with our cousins Robert and Pamela, whose father ran a farm at another end of the village. Pam and Rob are both here today.

When we were in Rampton, Dad often stayed behind in Radlett. This gave him time to work on whatever book he happened to be writing. Some were very learned texts indeed. Others were lighter, if you can accept such an adjective being applied to anything to do with marine insurance.

Neil and I were not really allowed into Dad's study. But of course while he was in London, we had a look around. It didn't take us too long to discover that in the middle drawer of his desk, he maintained a supply of chocolate to keep himself going. Equally it didn't take Dad too long to realise that we had discovered his stash; we had consumed too much of the evidence. Rather than locking his desk, his response was to start buying confectionery that he knew we didn't like: Bournville Plain, and a vile, rum-infected chocolate bar called Old Jamaica.

I think Neil and I were reasonably obedient. Mum administered most of the discipline in our household, but then we saw much more of her. I know I was scared of the wrath of Dad, but we encountered it only rarely. Judging by one or two of the anecdotes I have been kindly sent by his co-workers, it may be that they encountered more of it than us!

Grandfathering

Dad's Interests

In 1969, the family moved to Aldenham Avenue, an area where many families had three children. Matching that total was probably the last thing on Dad's mind, although Mum occasionally confessed that she would have liked a daughter.

Dad had been made a partner, and this gave him the wealth to expand his interest in photography, and to take the family on foreign holidays, typically to Spain^[15].

He also enlarged his coin collection. One incentive for him to join us in Rampton was that it enabled him to attend coin auctions held at Henry Spencer & Sons in nearby Retford.

Dad had started collecting, many years earlier. When I was six, Mum and Dad attended a parents evening at my school where one of my exercise books was on display. In answer to the question "Write About Your Family", my essay bluntly stated that "My daddy collects money".

1971 marked the end of the day-boy years for Neil and me. We were to become boarders even though school was just three miles from home. We were told this was to accustom us to boarding before we went up to Oundle^[11]. A cynic might suggest a different motive: Mum and Dad took a lot of skiing holidays in the 1970s, and the best skiing tended to occur during term-time. They were bitten by the bug, and Mum must have been a very familiar face at the Lunn Poly travel agent in Borehamwood.

By the turn of the millennium, Mum had lost her love for the slopes. But Dad still had his original knees and hips, and was keen to continue. Corrie, my wife at the time, didn't fancy skiing. So for two or three years, Dad and I would spend a week at a resort in France or Andorra, and I treasure the time we spent, perhaps understanding each other a little better.

In general, Dad was not a sportsman. I’m not aware of him participating in team games such as cricket, football or rugby^{[12], [20]}. When Neil and I were learning to swim, Dad gamely attended lessons himself, despite being in his late thirties. He was never a strong swimmer, but he wanted to be able to join us in the water on our seaside holidays.

Supporting Us

Neil and I were the first family members to attend university, and I believe Dad really enjoyed visiting us in our student rooms, and imagining himself there. We both took maths-based degrees and embarked on computer-related careers, myself at IBM, and Neil at Dickinson Robinson Group in Bristol.

Dad assisted us with our first flat and house purchases, and was equally supportive of our weddings. Both of us had two children — in order of appearance, James, Erika, Grace and Ellie, who are all here today.

He funded various summer vacations for the extended family in Wales, Kent and the West Country, and in retrospect, Neil's side of the family made a more consistent job of turning up to these holidays than my side did. But, petty squabbles aside, they were wonderful weeks, and we were hugely grateful to Mum and Dad for organising them.

Retirement

Dad retired at about 60, soon after their return from the Far East^[17].

He just wanted to enjoy himself with family and friends^[13], pursue a few research interests, and hope that the value of his investments rose. And apart from the Equitable Life scandal, they largely did.

He joined various local organisations, such as Probus and the Radlett Literary Society where, as a frustrated academic, he loved giving talks on such subjects as Tea, the Great Exhibition of 1851, and the Jury system^{[6], [16]}.

John and Pauline celebrating his 90th birthday in 2018

Decline

Eighteen months ago, Dad admitted defeat in completing his annual tax return^[7]. In recent years, his document filing had become haphazard^[18], and his investments just as complex as they had always been. For nine months of each year, "getting on with his tax return" had become his standard excuse for leaving social gatherings. So he handed the task to me.

With this year's completion deadline less than a fortnight away, I suspect I will be doing little else after today.

I should have completed the job last summer.

So from my parochial point of view, Dad couldn't have died at a worse time!

But that is my fault, not his.

In the end, his death was expected, and he had had a very good innings.

He had far outlived the predictions of his surgeon, and he had provided for our immediate family and our children in abundance.

We were exceptionally lucky to have had him as our father.

We owe him everything.

Footnotes

• [1]: He moved later with the school to Buckden in Huntingdonshire. It's intriguing that Bedmond may have introduced John to the Watford and Radlett area, and Buckden showed him the area of Hunts and Northants, the county which contains Oundle School, to where he sent both sons.
• [2]: Tragically she died just a few years before scientists identified an effective antibiotic against the disease: streptomycin.
• [3]: Hyelm, along with the nurturing he received at Hogg Lindley, was the making of Dad. My understanding is that a couple of the visiting speakers recognised his potential, and took him under their wings.
• [4]: She shared a flat with a couple of girls in Great Russell Street.
• [5]: Use of the bathroom along the corridor had to be booked in advance with the landlady.
• [6]: Dad was called to do jury service three times, and it is a mark of the instant respect he garnered that in all three cases he was elected foreman of the jury. All three were murder trials, and in each one, he had to announce a guilty verdict to the court. One of those trials took place in Hong Kong in 1982, when it was a British crown colony. This was a significant responsibility, given that Hong Kong still had a mandatory death sentence for capital offences.

Enjoying his declining years

• [7]: In 2018, to mark the centenary of the end of the First World War, he produced several posters for Radlett Museum illustrating what village life was like 100 years earlier. I showed him how to transform those posters into a website, but he recoiled from the mark-up language involved. I also began work with him on making a self-published ebook for the Kindle out of the chapters he had already written about an Australian regiment called the New South Wales Corps, but by that stage he had become too distracted. Though his book collection shows a wide range of interests, for the last 20 years of his life, Dad became obsessed by this subject, which to most of us will seem highly obscure: the methods for paying wages to the New South Wales Corps, a regiment which existed for less than 30 years until 1818. He amassed many papers about the topic and established communications with an Australian academic who shared his interest. If his brain had had five more years of robust rationality, he would certainly have written a book on the subject. But three years ago, with that book half complete, he admitted defeat. His papers had become a muddle. I think he had become distracted by other subjects: by the history of money, by general economics, and by the rabbit hole of Brexit. Going through that tangle of papers will be a nightmare for anyone who wants to continue his pursuit of the subject. For now, those files are all sitting in boxes on the floor of his study. Around the same time, his hearing started to deteriorate, although it might have taken a while for him to admit it to himself. One of the tragic consequences was that he lost his love of music. As his dementia worsened, so he increasingly forgot to wear his hearing aid. People around him got frustrated at having to repeat almost everything to him. He became withdrawn, a situation not helped by the isolation of lockdown. And because he wasn't hearing what was going on, he became to some extent deluded. He became very frustrated as his judgement worsened, and found it very difficult to be ostensibly in charge of the household, while clearly not.
• [8]: He liked to go early to bed, so he wasn't fond of New Year's Eve celebrations. Mum told me as a child that Dad hoped to live long enough to see in the new Millennium. That only meant his surviving until he was 72, but measured against his own mother's short life, he clearly felt he could not take that for granted. As we now know, he lived for 23 years beyond the Millennium. And I am pleased to report that he did stay up with us to see in the year 2000 at a family party at my brother's home near Bath. But I seem to remember he went to bed very soon after midnight.
• [9]: This was one of those those early setbacks that afflict many people who eventually make it to the top of their ladder.
• [10]: I have been through Dad's photo collections and I don't believe he kept a single photograph of this man.
• [11]: I guess Dad reasoned that if he as an 11-year-old could cope with the pain of separation from his mother because of wartime evacuation, and suffer the trauma of her death while he was many miles away from her, then we, like thousands of other children, could cope with boarding at the ages of 12 and 10 respectively.
• [12]: I have seen an ancient photo of him at Hyelm holding a tennis racket, but in that photo he was also wearing a jacket and tie. According to Mum, he just didn’t play enough to become the good player she believed he could have become.

John at the centre of a Hyelm team photo

• [13]: Apart from attending the dinners and dinner-dances that were an almost compulsory aspect of his professional life, Dad did not believe in mixing business with pleasure. If a friend came to him trying to sell him something or suggesting they go into business together, he would turn them down. He did not see his retirement from average adjusting as an opportunity to start a new business.
• [14]: In every family the husband worked full-time, and the wife stayed at home to raise the children. Wednesday afternoons were early closing days in Radlett, and on Sundays, only the newsagents opened. There was a lot of conformity around, and for a youngster, Radlett could be a little dull. But maybe as a child I liked dull. I remember at the age of six Dad tried to take me to London to see the Disney cartoon Sleeping Beauty. He didn’t succeed. On the walk down Shenley Hill towards the station, he got me so agitated by his descriptions of the wicked witch, that we had to turn back home. I would like to add that he later took me at the age of 11 to the Festival Hall to see the Mikado, and I could cope with that. Perhaps thirty years later, I took him to see Der Freischütz at the London Coliseum, in memory of some homework he helped me with as a 12-year-old. I have to admit that so far, Dad has not bequeathed me a general love of opera, although he was right in saying I would love Bach because it was so mathematical.
• [15]: Dad did most of the painting and decorating at Shenley Hill. He had been unusual in the Sixties for having a portable reel-to-reel tape recorder, which he would often play and hum to, as he applied paint to the woodwork. In the Seventies, he didn't really make the technological transition to cassette tape; he left that to Mum and her Abba cassettes, which she would dance to in the kitchen. She also enjoyed the Shadows, but I think that may have been because the drummer, Brian Bennett, lived opposite, and Hank Marvin lived in the next road, Loom Lane. On the topic of technology, I feel Dad tried to remain abreast with developments in personal computers. He thought about how IT could be introduced to the office, and he occasionally attended sales seminars at IBM while I was working there. Very loyally, he would buy the occasional IBM PC under the firm's Employee Purchase Programme, just to help out this poor multinational corporation. But after 1993 when he knew IBM was giving me a hard time, he was happy to switch to other vendors.
• [16]: In recent weeks, clearing out the detritus in his study, I realise now that he had some of the same inclinations as myself, such buying various paperweights and all sorts of notebooks and stationery that he would never have the time to use. I suspect that there were periods on their cruises when there was not much to do, because he amassed quite a range of nick-nacks emblazoned with the logo of the on-board Cunard shop.
• [17]: Mum and Dad had the foresight to realise that they would not always be able to climb stairs, and so they moved away from their two-storey Aldenham Avenue home to a bungalow in a close just off Shenley Hill.
• [18]: He had also lost confidence in his own judgement. He fell victim to a cruel scam in which someone claiming to be a police detective convinced him that counterfeit fraud was going on at the Radlett branch of Barclays Bank. The man convinced him that he could be very helpful in the police force's inquiries, but that he must tell no-one else, not even his closest family member, about this investigation. To cut a long story short, he ended up withdrawing £15,000 from his bank account, and handing it over to a motorcycle despatch rider who appeared at his doorstep, and never saw any of that money again. The scam shattered his confidence and his faith in strangers. Throughout his life, he had prided himself on being helpful to the authorities of this country and elsewhere. And now suddenly that helpfulness had been cruelly exploited.
• [19]: Dad sometimes brought work home with him, but I don't recall him ever working late at the office.
• [20]: He enjoyed watching wrestling on ITV at 4pm every Saturday. I don't know whether he realised some bouts were fixed, but he got very involved in some fights, and it clearly gave him emotional satisfaction to witness the good guy nearly always triumphing. He did go to St Albans City Hall to watch it live a couple of times in the 1970s, but for him, nothing beat the TV experience coupled with the commentary of Kent Walton.
• [21]: The only relatives of Dad whom I ever met were an Auntie Stella in Brighton and an Auntie Kitty in Birmingham. Even if they had known who Dad's real father was, that secret died with them, before the 1970s were over. An entirely different path to discovering something about Dad's paternal ancestry has recently been opened up by DNA testing. It is doubtful that this will reveal that Darth Vader is this writer's grandfather on his father's side.

A Daughter-in-law's Eulogy, as delivered at Christ Church on Thursday 18th January 2024

Meeting Neil

Neil and Jane at their Horfield house

I met Neil in 1983 and had only known him a short while before he went on a 3-week holiday to California and Hawaii with Pauline and John. I honestly thought I would never see him again but to my surprise he sent me a postcard every day and turned up to meet me on his return, carrying a skateboard under one arm and an electric keyboard under the other. I couldn’t believe my luck — he was without doubt the most quirky, creative and witty character I had ever met — and so it was with great interest and some trepidation that I looked forward to meeting his parents, who were a big mystery to me as they lived on the other side of the world.

Meeting John

I first met John when he returned from Japan for Gavin’s wedding in 1985. It was easy to see where Neil inherited his tall, slim build, distinctive good looks, charm and humour from. John put me at ease, and I liked him instantly.

Neil and John

When John and Pauline returned from Japan, I was able to discover more of John’s relationship with Neil. At first, they would spend time together in the garden at Aldenham Avenue — mowing the lawn and looking after John’s fruit and vegetable patch, from which we would particularly enjoy the home-grown potatoes and raspberries. If we were lucky there would be potatoes to take home — they really were delicious.

They shared an interest in any kind of new gadget and would spend time comparing cameras, music players and computers. Neil was a gifted teacher of all things technical, and John valued his support and patience - sometimes he would call several times in an evening to get Neil’s advice or to help get a problem fixed.   John loved cycling and despite a nasty accident in later life where he broke his neck he still got back on to his bike and continued to cycle. When coming up Shenley Hill started to become a problem Neil suggested that John should get an electric bike. They spent a long time researching this together and the last weekend we visited Radlett before Neil became ill was spent setting John up with a new electric bicycle and Neil went out with him to give him the confidence to ride it. 

Supporting the Family

John firmly believed in the importance of hard work and held the expectation that his children and grandchildren should all aspire to do their best in all aspects of their life. He set up a trust fund for his grandchildren which helped all four of them get on to the property ladder at a young age. He also helped Neil and Gavin in a similar way. In our case, it allowed us to move out of Bristol city centre to a house in the Somerset countryside that we loved. John also loved it there and particularly enjoyed walking down to the nearby 12th century church, a grade-one listed building described as one of 'England’s treasures' where the ancient wall paintings and medieval pews have been untouched for centuries. John was delighted that we were given special permission to bury Neil’s ashes there, as a recognition for his contribution to the community.

John's Habits

Behind the scenes John enjoyed very simple pleasures in life and was somewhat set in his ways.

Most days visiting Radlett would begin with the same routine of disturbing him using the guest bathroom rather than his own, listening to opera and shaving. He was always in there when we needed to be and it was a familiar sight for him to step out in his underpants, pyjamas or towel, complaining as though it had never happened before. 

He liked to begin the day with grapefruit, a bowl of cereal filled to overflowing with milk and a slice of bread, preferably the crust, with butter and jam.  In the evening, he would relish the delicious supper cooked by Pauline always saving enough room for a generous portion of a good old-fashioned pudding with lots of cream followed by a square of dark chocolate. 

No-one was allowed to stack the dishwasher as it had to be done with absolute precision. I think this resulted in John always being responsible for the washing up — I’m not surprised he moaned about that occasionally too.   He didn’t watch much TV but on Saturdays he loved to watch Dad's Army and wouldn't miss it for anything, if it was on, and laughed the whole way through. He also never missed Ski Sunday and in younger years would always watch the wrestling.

John's Decline

Probably their last outing to Radlett (2019)

Following Neil’s death and the pandemic John's physical and mental health started to decline. He was determined to outlive Pauline and continued to try to keep as active as possible despite his obvious difficulties. He continued to work in the garden and strived to keep walking, even if it was just to the end of the road. His knees caused him tremendous pain and his hearing loss left him isolated sometimes as he refused to wear his hearing aid.

Saddest of all was to see his mental decline in the last two years. Once a brilliant mind, he became overwhelmed with dementia and his inability to manage the house, his finances and his vulnerability caused him huge anxiety. He became grateful for the support from his carer, Neo, Pam (the cleaner) and Colin (the gardener), and, of course, Gavin and myself. He gradually accepted that he needed help and as he became weaker, he reflected on his life and hoped he had been a good man.

I think John would like to give a special mention to Pauline today. They lived a wonderful life together, were rarely apart, and supported each other throughout. Both strong characters, they had plenty of disagreements, but I have no doubt in my mind that John loved Pauline more than anything else in the world. In the last year it was my pleasure to take Pauline to visit John in hospital on two occasions. Pauline insisted that she would not visit her husband without making an effort and asked me to find her best pearls, smartest cardigan and brightest red lipstick. They held hands and chatted with each other with such heart-warming affection — so much so that it felt appropriate to step outside for a while and leave them to have some time alone together.

I'm sure Pauline, like us all, will really miss having John by her side, but we can take comfort in knowing that he is reunited with Neil, in the celestial garden he planned to get ready to welcome all of us, when the time comes.

A Colleague's Eulogy: Christopher Barstow's Tribute, as delivered at Christ Church on Thursday 18th January 2024

Purpose

Good afternoon. When Gavin asked me to say a few words about John and average adjusting, he confessed that average adjusting was a mystery to him. This was despite having a father who was one of the great teachers in the profession and despite Gavin's having worked in the post room in his father’s firm for two whole weeks.

My role therefore is to unveil the mystery of average adjusting and give due credit to John’s contribution in the two minutes flat that I have been allocated. I may run slightly over time but, I promise, not by very much.

Introduction

Before getting started, I should perhaps introduce myself by saying that I first met John when he interviewed me for a job at Hogg Lindley in 1966. I had no idea what average adjusting was, but I had been told by a cousin that it was much more exciting than being a solicitor and there was much more money in it. At least the first part was true. Our clients were shipowners from all over the world. And shipowners tend to be at the buccaneering end of the world of business.

Average Adjusting: an Explanation

Average Adjusters’ services are called for when a ship is in trouble. It has, for example run aground, and requires refloating. The ship may need salvaging, the cargo may need to be discharged and sent to its destination on other ships.

Shipping casualties have been around for a long time, going right back to the days of the Phoenician merchants in the 12th century BC. Often in those days, the cargo owners travelled on the ship. Let us imagine that the ship runs aground, and in order to refloat her it is necessary to throw cargo overboard, in an action known as jettison. What might happen? Furious cargo owners to say the least. And no insurance to pick up the tab.

One of the lighter volumes in the DJW oeuvre

The Phoenicians and their successors invented some equitable principles to ensure fair play between the parties. In this case, the shipowner would be asked to pay his share of the cargo jettison. This was the origin of General Average of which John Wilson was one of the great practitioners. The profession of average adjusting has been called, somewhat irreverently, the world’s second oldest profession.

Apart from jettison there are many other types of General Average loss which I won’t go into here. Traditionally the average adjuster has been at the right hand of the shipowner giving him advice on the best option available to get the show back on the road after a casualty. Our advice would not be technical. (That would come from the surveyors.) We would give insurance and legal advice to make sure that the shipowner did the right thing.

And then in due course the average adjuster would produce a document to send to the insurers telling them how much they should pay. This document would include the relevant extracts from the ship’s logbook, the survey reports, and all the repair accounts and other expenditure relating to the case. In it there would be an apportionment of the General Average between the ship and the cargo based on their respective values. In John’s heyday, if this was a substantial case, the adjustment (as it was called) might have been a leatherbound volume.

John's Publications

The holy bible of average adjusting is a book called The Law of General Average and the York Antwerp Rules, known colloquially as Lowndes & Rudolf. This learned work is now in its 15th edition. The first edition was published in Victorian times. John was the junior editor of the 10th edition published in 1975. His co-editors were two distinguished judges. He was the senior editor of the 11th and 12th editions.

These were by no means his only works. He wrote many books and pamphlets on a number of different subjects. Amongst the staff of Richards Hogg, which Hogg Lindley in due course became, he was most famous for a training manual called 101 Damnations. This gave practical solutions to a wide range of marine insurance and General Average problems.

John's Career in Average Adjusting

John joined Hogg Lindley in 1943, amazingly when he was only 14 years old. He probably joined the post room, but once he became a junior clerk, he would have spent his time copying extracts from the ship’s logbook, transcribing repair accounts, and performing other menial duties. But he worked his way up through the firm and became a partner in 1964. This was no mean feat as Hogg Lindley was a very old-fashioned firm.

On a lecture tour of Iraq (October/November 1966)

Until 1981 he was a partner in London, but the last years of his remarkable career were spent in our offices in Hong Kong and Tokyo. Pauline went too. In foreign postings the wife plays an important role. John is remembered with great affection, if not awe, by his colleagues in those offices. In Tokyo he was known as Wilson Sensei or revered teacher.

He was Chairman of the Association of Average Adjusters in 1988 and after his retirement he was made an Honorary Fellow of the Association in recognition of his achievements. Honorary Fellowship is an accolade usually only given to senior judges. I think this demonstrates what a remarkable person he was.

Thank you.

Order of Service

Cremation Service

Memorial Service

Emailed Tributes to John

Great-granddaughter Lucy says farewell

Christopher Barstow (Richards Hogg)

Dear Gavin

Your email has been forwarded to me and I am sending you this brief email to express my condolences.

To introduce myself I joined Hogg Lindley in February 1969. Your father was one of a panel of six partners who interviewed me for the job. I got to know John best when he worked in the Hong Kong office. I was there between 1975 and 1983. I can't remember the precise dates your father was in Hong Kong but it was I think in the early eighties.

We got to know John and Pauline quite well. In fact I remember writing a piece of doggerel about John for an office party. It started off: "I am the very model of a modern Average stater". I know Pauline took the original away with her when she left the party. If she still has it, I would love a copy.

John was an icon in the Hong Kong office, and many generations of Richards Hogg staff both in Hong Kong and around the world were brought up on 101 Damnations.

I remember being most impressed with John when he told me that he and Pauline had started skiing—was he already in his fifties by then?—and I believe that they went skiing for many years.

Please remember me, Pauline. and let me know when the funeral is.

Your sincerely

Christopher Barstow

Liz Bissett (Radlett Literary Society)

Dear Gavin

We met briefly in the Vision Hall on Thursday - I'm a member of the Literary Society.

I lost my very old Mum in August so hearing about the death of another parent resonates only too clearly.

John's Memorial service was lovely - and how wonderful to now have all these footnotes to add more information! Quite fascinating.

Sometimes one leaves a funeral feeling short-changed that justice hasn't been done to the deceased. That's not something you will ever have to fear.

You and your family have done a truly amazing job of describing your dad's life and personality.

I wish I'd had the chance to get to know him better.

With sincere condolences to you, Pauline and your family.

Liz Bissett

Ian Bramwell (AAA)

Dear Gavin

Thank you very much for letting me know of your father’s death. I am sorry for your loss.

I will leave it to others to praise his towering intellect and professional achievements. He mentored me for the Association of Average Adjusters examinations in the mid-90s and although I met him only a few times, what I remember most was his warmth and kindness.

Kind regards

Ian Bramwell (Fellow, Association of Average Adjusters)

Peter Breward (Probus)

Dear Gavin

Many thanks for your email, I am sorry to hear the sad news although I knew he had been unwell for some time.

We have known your parents since moving to Radlett some 30+ years ago.

Probus is now defunct but I have taken the liberty of forwarding your email to past members, some will obviously receive it twice.

Please let me know funeral arrangements when available.

Give our regards to Pauline.

Regards

Peter & Judith

Miles Duncan (Richards Hogg)

Gavin

He was a most remarkable man—I well remember out times together in HK and Japan—and in London of course!

I will try to call your Ma.

Thank you for letting us all know—I have forwarded your message to the AAA secretary Ann Waite and to Christopher Barstow—I think you have captured most of the other AAA rascals with your message

It will feel strange without him there—but what a good innings!

Best regards

Miles Duncan

——

Gavin

Your link is a remarkable record – thank you so much for sending it and for putting in such effort to create such a worthy tribute.

Not for the first time am I thinking ‘ hidden depths’!

A very fine man – stay proud of him.

Best regards

Miles

Teresa Feldman (Radlett Literary Society)

Dear Gavin

Thank you for letting me know of your father’s recent death.

I knew both your parents for many years.

I played tennis with your mother regularly until her mobility problems made it impossible for her to play.

I got to know your father as a member of the Radlett Literary Society. He had a lovely sense of humour and his papers were very unusual, I particularly enjoyed the one about tea.

He was a familiar sight on his bicycle wearing his yellow jacket.

Please send my best wishes to your mother and all your family.

Affectionately

Teresa Feldman

Helen Gerald (Radlett Literary Society)

Dear Gavin

I am the second-newest member of the Radlett Literary Society, and the 'remote' one as I live in Shropshire—my late father Norman Gerald was a long standing member and my mother (another Pauline) is still an associate member. We both send you deepest sympathies on your sad loss, and thank you for sharing that lovely photo.

As a recent and remote member I didn't meet your father in person, but I was delighted to receive a kind email from him after I presented my paper on Queen Mary in October 2021. This was done over zoom (which is how I got involved) with the paper distributed to all in advance so that the meeting was a discussion rather than a long reading; the society have retained this format 'in person' which is a big improvement. I kept the email, he wrote:

"Hi Helen, I am a declining and generally AWOL member of the litsoc, and I congratulate you on your paper. Just for interest, tell me what inspired you to write about her. FYI I met and was introduced to that statuesque lady in probably about 1945 or 1946 and guess i probably bowed or similar, but it was a very brief meeting."

You can imagine my excitement at finding someone who actually met the subject of my paper, so I phoned him and we had a very pleasant chat. The answer to his question was 'it was suggested by another member' but what a happy result!

There is no current permanent president of the Literary Society following the sudden death of Roger Masters last year, hence you will hopefully have seen the reply from Jane Sheridan who is the secretary. I know you will be in the thoughts of the other members too.

All of us who are fortunate to have our parents for so long know that it is still no easier when this time comes. Again, my deepest sympathies to you, your mother and family.

best wishes

Helen Gerald

Wendy Hall (wife of Clive, from Hyelm)

Dear Gavin

I was so sorry to hear about John.

Clive and I did wonder when we received no card for Christmas 2022.

Sadly Clive died in September with bowel cancer - he was 92 and just before our 62nd Wedding Anniversary. John and Clive I believe must have met at Hyelm.

I think it must have been on our honeymoon in September 1961 when we visited John and Pauline who had recently had a baby - could that have been you?

John always sent lots of news with his cards over the 60+ years, usually with a photograph of them both.

Thank you for your e-mail. At our age cards from old friends become fewer and fewer so I am very grateful.

Wendy Hall

Keith Jones (Richards Hogg)

Dear Gavin

Thank you for your mail as below, I am sorry to hear of John’s passing and you and the family have our sincere condolences. I used to attend John’s training sessions for ‘youngsters’ when I joined RHI back in 1973, a master at what he did but I am not sure he had the patience of a lot of my masters at school!!

I last saw John when I was in the Chair at the AAA for dinner at the Savoy, it would have been 2013/14, he had kind words to say about my address and I even quoted him in one of them.

I know the AAA will be mentioning something to Fellows, as well of course noting the sad passing at the AGM in May 2024. John left a legacy for adjusters with his 101 Damnations, Drat It as well as the Digested Index of Law Cases — Johan Winckel’s name will be remembered a long time to come. I am not sure your mother will remember Anne and I, I was a Junior partner in those days and then went to Piraeus to run the office — we did meet at the yearly annual partners dinner which was mostly always somewhere pretty gastronomic — one year at the In and Out Club, when it was in Piccadilly, which was not so special, apart from the location.

Sadly, we will not be able to attend the funeral, but I would hope someone from the AAA will be there.

Kind regards

Keith Jones

Chris Kilbee (Richards Hogg Singapore)

Thank you Gavin.

Although I am 68, qualifying in 1987, I am very much of the next generation to your father, or “DJW” as we all used to call him. Our paths seldom crossed as I was with Richards Hogg in Singapore from 1977 and we seldom travelled even ‘intra-Asia’ in those days.

However, he lives on in our profession not just as a name, partner of RHI, editor of Lowndes & Rudolf and AAA Chairman, but in his vast contribution to the modern profession in his many publications and notes & aides-memoire he left for so many of us to read and digest to help us qualify. This paperwork is passed down and his contribution is constantly remembered. My son is currently grinding through the exam process and often I see copies of written questions and notes in DJW’s fair hand!

He lives on.

I chaired an Asian Gathering of adjusters in Singapore on the day of the funeral and we observed a moment of reflection in his honour.

With my deep condolences and best wishes.

Chris

Stelios Magkanaris (AAA)

Dear Mr Wilson

My condolences for the loss of your father. I am a fellow of the Association of Average Adjusters and I only had the pleasure of meeting your father for a very short discussion at one of the Association's dinners some years ago. I wanted to meet him in the dinner just to say thank you for the tutorial exercises and the material he had drafted in relation to adjusting practice which helped me immensely during my studies.

Again, I am sorry for your loss. Surely professionally your father will be remembered for his contribution in the adjusting community by all of us as well as future adjusters.

Best regards

Stelios Magkanaris, Director of Maradco

Keith Martin (Richards Hogg)

Dear Gavin

I am sure I am not alone among your father’s colleagues in expressing sadness and sympathy upon learning of his passing. After I had joined the London office of Richards Hogg International in 1985 and had set off down the path towards the professional qualification, John was of enormous help to me as teacher and guide through the intricacies of the exam preparation.

His commitment to the profession was notable (including 100 years of the AAA 1869-1969), as was his ability to think through (and I am sure enjoy!) the numerical intricacies of a wide range of marine accidents and misfortunes, both real and invented (the latter for inclusion in his masterly manual 101 Damnations).

He will be missed.

Yours truly

Keith

---

Dear Gavin

I am sorry that I will not be able to attend at John’s memorial service on 18 Jan.

In common with many former colleagues, I would just like to reiterate my admiration for his enthusiastic approach to the adjusting profession, including his energetic examination and elucidation of even the most arcane concepts and mathematical challenges! Taking on the editorship of Lowndes & Rudolf was further proof of such commitment.

In addition to his academic achievements, as previously mentioned, I found John to be kind and supportive during my preparation for the AAA Examinations and I am ever grateful to him for that support.

Kind regards

Keith J Martin

Jane Sheridan (Radlett Literary Society)

Dear Gavin,

I was so sorry to hear the very sad news of John's passing last Sunday and I know that all the members of Radlett Literary Society will join me in sending our sympathy to Pauline, to you and to all your family.

Unlike many long-standing Literary Society members, I had the privilege of meeting your delightful parents only twice at their home when they hosted Literary Society meetings. The first was in October 2017 when John gave an excellent paper on The Great Exhibition of 1851 which we all thoroughly enjoyed. In October 2019 John gave another interesting paper entitled Members of the Jury.

After that, John became an Honorary member of the Radlett Literary Society. He did not wish to come out in the evenings and for two Covid years we met only on Zoom and John did not wish to join in.

The picture you sent of your parents is delightful and gives us all a lovely way to remember John at his elegant and lively-minded best.

Please do let us all know when in January the funeral will be.

With heartfelt condolences to you all

Jane Sheridan

Pant, nr Oswestry, Shropshire

Tsukasa Sekine (Richards Hogg)

Strangely enough, I somehow thought about DJW only a couple weeks ago in the sense if he was still alive as I was aware that he was well over 90.

If my memory serves me right, he was in Tokyo from Autumn 1983 to Spring 1987 (say 3½ years). He was a good and tough teacher, owing to which I was able to learn a lot from him. Without his help, no doubt I would not have been able to get through the exams!

Very sad news indeed and condolences to his family...

Best wishes, Suki

Paul Silver (Richards Hogg)

Dear Gavin

As a former work colleague of your father’s, may I offer my condolences for your loss. It sounds like the last couple of years were tough for him and you but he had a splendid life.

I cannot offer you a lot in recollection because I think I am roughly the same age or at least generation as you (b.1956) so in the office there was obviously a difference in status: him exalted partner, me junior graduate recruit. My path probably crossed with you in the post-room at Essex House.

However I recall a couple of things. Principally I was sent downstairs to work directly with your father for three months c. 1979 when maybe I had been with the firm for 18 months. I was told that John had not worked with a graduate recruit before and pretty much it would be good for both of us. I doubt it did much for him, as I don’t think he repeated the experience. (I may be wrong.) However I learnt a lot. What I did learn in the context of adjusting was the necessity to adhere to high standards, don’t do anything or state anything (including the minutiae) without a good reason, say what you are going to say clearly and economically, develop your own adjusting style and learn around the subject by absorbing shipping knowledge so you could apply ready good sense to a problem.

Of course he considered his style and presentation was superior to what was being served up elsewhere in the building (so that was what I was learning). He certainly put a great deal of thought into it. It was a gruelling three months and I doubt that I did a single thing that assisted him but his commitment to trying to make something of me was unwavering. Helped build resilience too! It was only three months but what I learnt stayed with me through my career. So I always respected him greatly.

I can think of where I was some assistance in those early days: organising the 1978 insurance course where we had 90+ people in King’s College. I did much of the administration of it and John dealt with front-of-house and the academic side. It then lasted three weeks and was a big undertaking. His work on the course for quite a number of years must have been very valuable to the firm. By and large he let us get on with the things we couldn’t mess up too much.

There was a famous training incident that somebody is bound to tell you about. I think it was on the second of a series of {workshops that he ran for the young adjusters that started at 4pm. He was clearly fed up with people not being not on time for the first one. So he locked the door at 4pm exactly and those inside including myself had the enjoyment of hearing those on the outside trying to get in. Suffice to say punctuality improved considerably. I have always carried that example in mind since about showing the standards you expected of others in an unexpected way—very practical, as was John’s general approach to adjusting. His educational training materials for the young adjuster were brilliant and must have taken a lot of effort for which we probably displayed no obvious gratitude. However he will have known he had done a good job there.

I know he did lots of work with the study groups set up by the Chartered Insurance Institute in London on marine subjects. John was a leading light in these with younger members of the insurance market in the late 1950s. They published some detailed treatises on various subjects which were extremely useful on the history of various clauses etc. Very useful for me studying later.

By contrast I recall him enthusing on the joys and practicality of his motor scooter which I think he discovered after coming back from Japan. Always practical.

Anyway commiserations again and I am sorry that your mother (whom I have met several times) is so frail. I do intend coming to the funeral.

Best wishes

Paul Silver

Alan Stephenson (Holiday Friend)

Dear Gavin

We are extremely sad to receive this very unexpected news but it has given us the answer why Christmas cards and telephone calls ceased between your parents and ourselves about three years ago. My final telephone conversation was with your father who I contacted after we had not received the annual Christmas card and letter. He didn’t mention any self illness nor any failing in health of your mother but he did leave an impression she was either unable to communicate or didn’t wish to, so we honoured their situation and ceased to communicate. Over a forgotten period before the conversation with your father, we occasionally spoke by telephone with your mother who indicated her physicality was deteriorating and may have been the result of a fall or an accident?

We met your parents on a skiing holiday in Schladming, Austria in 1989 after which we ski holidayed together for a number of years in Morzine and Kitzbuhel. I think the last holiday together was in 1997. We didn’t holiday together during the summers or meet elsewhere over the years but in 2014 we met by accident on board Queen Victoria on a Mediterranean Cruise. We met regularly throughout the voyage for drinks and we shared some shore experiences.

Although our social and career backgrounds were contrasting, we formed quite a close bond. Your mother and father were always jolly and good-humoured and their life experiences made wonderful and engrossed listening. We have continued to think of them in the past few years, particularly at this time of the year when we exchange cards and messages with friends.

Jean and I are quite well and quite fit but with ageing, myself at 80 and Jean at 91, we have had a few medical issues in recent years, some remain with us but others are considered to have gone away. It’s obvious by our ages that we no longer ski.

If you mother and father didn’t have a collection of photographs I have enclosed some which will identify Jean and myself, three taken when we were with them on the cruise in 2014 and the other at one of Jean’s 90th birthday celebrations in 2022.

In response to your final question, we know of no others with whom your parents were associated.

We would wish to know of the date of your father’s funeral in a chance it will be possible for us to attend.

Yours very sincerely

Alan & Jean Stephenson

---

Gavin

Although we had planned to make the long journey, we were unable to attend John’s memorial service because I was ill, diagnosed by my GP to be severely dehydrated. I was recovered by yesterday. We had intended to stay overnight with some people we know in Henley-on-Thames, and travel the short 40-mile distance on the day of the service, then continue our journey north afterwards.

Sadly for us, our absence prevented us meeting you and of course your mother who, although frail, was able to attend. It is however realized that because of her dementia, in speaking to her, she may not have know us. I will write to her to formally to express our condolences in the possibility the lady who looks after her may be able to communicate the contents in the hope she may understand we are thinking of her and the letter may bring back some faint memories of the wonderful ski holidays we enjoyed together.

We have been totally absorbed in the masterpiece of your eulogy but, as you have said, never thinking you would be conducting funerals in this order. It is a moving tribute from Neil’s wife, concluded by her touching remark that “John will be reunited with Neil, in the celestial garden, he planned to get ready to welcome all of us, when the time comes”. The footnotes ware fascinating as were the words of Christopher Barstow’s tribute to John whose menial title as an ‘Average Adjuster’ flagrantly understates the values of John who after leaving school at 14 became a most notable academic and world renowned as a marine claims specialist.

From the information which you sent recently, and of the eulogy, we now fully understand why communication between ourselves and your mother and father ceased. It would have been so distressing for either to relay Pauline’s decline, the tragic loss of Neil and your father’s decline and cancer. Although we ourselves are aging, we will always remember them with affection, reflecting the lovely times we had with them always enjoying their company and their humour. Your mention of them living in Japan reminded me that your mother returned exasperated, after visiting a bank in Kitzbühel, because they wouldn’t change some Yen into Schillings. “What do you think, John?" His response was just a kind smile.

If you have a spare Order of Service, we would very much like to receive such for our keeping.

With our very best wishes to you, your mother and to the respective families

Yours sincerely

Alan & Jean

Graham Taylor (Radlett Museum and fellow cyclist)

Hello Gavin

I was away when you sent the sad news of your father's death. He and I were both keen Radlett cyclists until he gave it up and I bought an electric assist bike!

John was very helpful with information about the First World War, when the new local museum, of which I am vice-chairman, was setting up an exhibition commemorating the 100th anniversary in 2018.

I shall miss John's cheerful manner and his keenness to help with local societies. Incidentally, we have John's voice on record as part of our oral history of Radlett.

If you would forgive a small plug for the Museum: we'd be happy to accept any donation of pictures, stories and objects relating to Radlett for which there's no other home.

Graham Taylor

Ann Waite (AAA)

Dear Gavin

Thank you for letting the Association know this sad news. As you may well be aware, John was an Honorary Fellow of the AAA—elected as such due to his dedicated services over many years. Although I had personally not met John myself, we corresponded by email and had some humorous exchanges over the years. Sadly, as you mention, that stopped a year or so ago so I did worry about his health.

I will arrange for a message to be sent around all our Fellows and, if appropriate, perhaps you could advise funeral arrangements in due course.

Condolences to your family at this difficult time.

Best wishes

Ann

Dad's Childhood in His Own Words

Evacuated to Bedmond, Herts, on Friday 1st September 1939 and, with Derek Smith, was dropped off at Mrs Ashby’s, a widow with a house just a few hundred yards past a working blacksmith’s shop (which in the 1100s was the birthplace of the only English Pope — Adrian IV, 1154-59), and a similar distance short of the Ovaltine Farm on the road to Abbots Langley. War was declared at 1100 on Sunday the 3rd.

School was held in the Village Hall and I recollect that there were only three classes, all being taught in the same main room. Mr. Jones was our form master — a remarkably able teacher, but there must have been a few others — Anstead, Hall . . . ?

We took the 11-plus in the Spring or early part of 1940 and I was fortunate to be awarded one of the few top scholarships to Christ's Hospital School, but my mother had died on 12th May 1940 after a long illness, and my step-father was doubtless on the move with the prevailing wartime conditions, and with no more than a basic education himself and worried about the cost of uniforms etc, did nothing about it. Whereas Derek Smith and other successful classmates went off in the summer to the Marylebone Grammar School, then evacuated to Cornwall, I remained behind for the succeeding Autumn and Spring Terms.

My Aunt Stella came to my rescue in the Easter of 1941 and took me off to her house in Brampton, near Huntingdon, with the object of enrolling me in the Huntingdon Grammar school, but they were full up and unable to take me. I therefore spent three days at the senior school in Huntingdon town, in the top class with the 14-year-olds, but I have to say that the level which they had then attained was less than mine! Fortunately, a London grammar school, Tollington, had been evacuated to the neighbouring village of Buckden, and they were happy to take me for the regulation five guineas per term, which Aunty Stella continued to pay whilst I was there. I joined the First form, two terms behind in French and some other subjects, but was still able to come a respectable fifth in the form at the end-of-year exams, and first at the next term exams at Christmas!

The school returned to Muswell Hill in London in the summer of 1942, and I could once again have been school-less, but one of the masters, the remarkable Mr E.A.Moore and his wife Gladys kindly invited me to stay with them and their son and daughter in a newly rented home in Winchmore Hill. I stayed with them for four school terms, but the school fees and cost of my upkeep at the Moore’s was obviously a strain on the finances of my step-father, who had remarried, and having now just celebrated my fifteenth birthday and legally entitled to leave school, this is exactly what happened at the end of the Xmas term and I was obliged to earn a living!

We had a Careers Master at school and connections with a number of employers, and I rather liked the sound of one City firm of Average Adjusters. Mr Moore took me along for an interview, but I think it must have been he who proclaimed my potential and secured for me the then-unheard of weekly wage of two pounds as an Office-boy — others were lucky to get 27/6d or 30/-. (I recall that Bert Gifford who later became a director of the London and Manchester Insurance Co. started work there before the war at only one pound a week!)

Anyway, I started work on Monday morning, January 3rd 1944, setting off from Winchmore Hill in the dark on the 641 trolley bus to Moorgate, a journey which probably took three-quarters of an hour and cost all of 7 old pennies. Having left the bus in Finsbury Square I then walked through what were the stables behind Broad Street Station for the 100 or so cart horses that in those days transported goods arriving at the station for various parts of London. Having arrived in Old Broad Street I made my way to Palmerston House, which had been built originally in about 1850 and spanned the whole area between Old Broad Street and Bishopsgate. Immediately before the war, the Bishopsgate half had been completely rebuilt and the Old Broad Street half abandoned, preparatory to demolition and rebuilding, but now postponed by the war. Having walked through the old building I arrived in the pristine new Bishopsgate half and caught the high-speed lift to the sixth floor, feeling as though I had left my stomach below. The lifts in those days all had lady attendants in dark red uniform.

Hogg Lindley and Co. occupied rather more than half of that floor and had a staff of perhaps 40-50.

Salary of £2 but received only £1.19.8, as 2d was deducted for Unemployment Insurance and a further 2d for Health Insurance. This particular 2d went to organisations such as the Hearts of Oak, but ours went to one run by Lloyd’s of London and I seem to recall that one got free spectacles and dentistry straightway and in full! How does the modern Health service compare?

I was given a rise of 5s after three months but found that 2s was deducted for income tax! At Christmas I received a bonus of £5 but £2.10.0 was taken in tax that week, and an extra shilling the following week!

Yet in 2011 a 50% tax rate is charged only on incomes exceeding £150,000 and people think it a crime!

If one wanted to get on in business, it was obviously an advantage to study for professional examinations, and the Chartered Insurance Institute was the body appropriate for me. Their Associateship (ACII) exams were held in the Spring each year and were divided between the various branches of the insurance industry — e.g. Life, Fire, Accident, etc. — and Marine for people like me. Each year one sat for three papers of three hours each, and in those days one had to pass all three at one go; there were no ‘modules’, permitting one to achieve success on a piecemeal basis. There were no evening classes in those days, but some excellent correspondence courses of ten lessons on each subject, with homework to do and be marked, and these I thought quite excellent.

I should add that one would normally start these studies with ‘Matric’ qualifications, but having left school prematurely and before taking the exams, I was obliged to pass a Preliminary Examination, probably of an equivalent level, and this I accomplished in 1945, then proceeding on with the ACII studies in the autumn. The correspondence course cost £3.3.0, which would cause me some strain at that period of my career, but on explaining the position to Mr A.D. Mackinnon, the elderly partner responsible for my department he gave me 30 shillings from his own pocket!

I sat the first part of the ACII in 1946 and was successful even to the extent of having a special column for my result as I was the only candidate passing on the ‘full’ standard, all the others being ex-servicemen who — quite understandably — were granted concessions of a lower pass mark.

I was called up for service in the RAF in December 1946, as the result of which my studies were temporarily interrupted, but once settled in at Barnwood in October 1947 where we effectively worked 24x7 on a watch system, I was able to make use of nightshifts to resume my studies with the correspondence course (which as a serviceman I think cost only 10 shillings!) and sat Part 2 in the Spring of 1948. Being the only ‘Marine’ man taking the exams in Gloucester, I found myself alone in the boardroom of a local Insurance Company with two invigilators who had no objection to my smoking when I wished! Success — and the special column — again was my reward, and I then started on the next course for the Finals, which I took in London during my demob leave in the Spring of 1949. I passed, but not yet being twenty-one, I could not take up the ACII — even assuming that I could afford the enrolment fee and the upgraded annual membership fees!

I was earning £3.10.0 a week when I joined up — plus a £30 bonus, all of which I think I spent on a second-hand Kodak Retina 35mm camera, probably ‘acquired’ by a serviceman in Germany — and was pleasantly surprised to receive £5.10.0 a week on my return to HL & Co.