REMEMBRANCE

Martin Titford (2026)	1975 Valete M. TITFORD. VI Science; Entered September, 1970 "O" Levels (7 subjects); "A" Levels (2 subjects); House Prefect; 1st XV Rugby, 1974; 1st XI Hockey, 1974-75; 1st XI Cricket, 1975; C.C.F. Basic Proficiency. Word came from Jem Stock in March 2026 that Martin had suffered a massive heart attack and never recovered. He was one of the Class of '75's finest sportsmen, as the Valete above shows: 1st XV rugby, 1st XI hockey, 1st XI cricket. Richard Jefferies writes: Memories of Martin I have very fond memories of Martin from early, pre-Reed’s days, as he went to prep school with my now brother-in-law, and we used to play football at the bottom of our gardens. I remember Martin being the first person I spoke to after being dropped off at Reed's by my parents. There were epic parties at the Titford house "Pilgrim" in Horsley, which I am sure many of the Class of ‘75 would have been at! His twin sister Susie would make incredible curries for all of us. Martin and I used to write to each other in the early '80s, I from Canada, Martin from Botswana. I once received a letter addressed: 'To Richard Jefferies, on an oil rig somewhere in the Davis Straight.' It reached me from Botswana. It all kind of faded out, but I always enjoyed our intermittent get-togethers over the years with Jem, Jim and Martin. He was also very close to my folks. There were evenings at "Pilgrim" with his two University of Surrey housemates, Sasha from Serbia and Bertrand from Mauritius. Sasha's granny's home-made šljivovica and home-cured ham would often feature well into the small hours. Martin and I would frequently sit up until dawn, drinking my dad's Southern Comfort and playing Scrabble. Of course playing rugby together with Martin and Jem is a prime memory. I have a story involving my Kingston Palaeontology Prof., a Martin try, and a bit of a scuffle involving yours truly. One Saturday afternoon in early September, 1975, Martin, Jem and I turned out for the OR's 1st XV at Whitely Village. When Martin got the ball in open space with room to run, he was unstoppable, and he went in for one of his trademark tries in the corner. The opposing team’s hooker gave Martin a bit of a “shoeing” as he slid over the line, which I didn’t like one bit, so went to express my displeasure, and it got a bit heated. I was a prop in those days, and for the rest of the match the hooker and I went at it in the scrum with each other, and our faces both took a bit of a battering. Roll forward to the following Monday, and my first day of my Geology degree course at Kingston Poly. Sitting expectantly for our Palaeontology lecture that afternoon, imagine my shock as one very battered and bruised Professor entered the room. We looked at each other, and simultaneously pointed and gasped "You." My hooker, ahem, from the Saturday turned out to be one of our country’s pre-eminent palaeontologists. We became firm friends from that point on, and he would recount our story at every opportunity. Such is the ethos of rugby! Jem Stock writes: Memories of Martin I first met Martin in the 3rd form at Reed's where we shared the occasional class for the next 5 years. However it was on the school's sports fields where we really became friends. Martin was a gifted all-round sportsman, playing centre in rugby, a pace bowler in cricket and wing in hockey. It was mostly in the hockey team where we played on opposite wings that we connected, even though we were both late for one bus because we were playing cards in his common room and I was dropped from the team at the door and Martin went to the away match. Once we left Reed's, Martin followed in his father's footsteps and studied for a degree in Civil Engineering at Surrey University. As I didn't drive, Martin kindly went out of his way and would pick me up so our friendship grew, spending many hours in the Surrey pubs and playing rugby for the OR's, culminating in the unbeaten 79/80 season where Martin was the top try scorer for the 1st XV, while I got cold on the wing waiting for a pass. We spent a memorable summer, working in Portsmouth on the A3M, rushing back on Fridays to meet up with the rest of our friends, playing cricket for the old boys, and as I was off on holiday around Europe I persuaded Martin to come along instead of spending the whole summer on work experience. Four weeks of travel through France, Switzerland and Italy and back in time for the next rugby season. His parents had returned to Africa for work when we left Reed's, so Horsley became a regular haunt for me until Martin decided to follow his father and elder brother and go to Africa to ply his trade and utilise his recent degree qualification. I think the lack of opportunity in the UK at the time and his father's contacts were also a major factor for this decision. After his move our contact became intermittent, as we were both starting out and my attention was directed to Australia. We were due to meet up in Tanzania prior to Tony & Leslie's return but Martin had contracted hepatitis in Botswana where he was working, so our next meeting was when I was invited to join his family as a surprise to Martin to attend his wedding to Cappy. He was delighted and it was an amazing trip, especially the stag party in Kruger National Park. Neither of us were very good at keeping in touch, and it was some time before we met up again. Which was how it remained, and because of this every now and then we would hook up and fill in the gaps. It was always easy to get back into the swing of things, but it was still a surprise when Martin and family made the move from South Africa back to the UK. Even With the state of the SA economy and lack of safety it was still a tough call. As a result they all moved to the north of England and around this time I was moving south, first to the coast and then on to Australia. Again Africa called, so Martin and Cappy went to Libya for work, which we found out when they managed to get back to the UK after the ousting of Gaddafi following a treacherous journey to the Egyptian border. It was a very interesting story told over many beers in the pub on his return. After this it was my turn to move, and Australia beckoned. I played for the OR's into my late 40's and kept in touch with many from the club. When there was a reunion organised for the 80/81 team I reconnected with Martin, but neither of us was able to attend. Our intermittent messaging continued and I was able to visit him, now living in the Midlands, when I was over and working in London for a few weeks. At this time it was me who was travelling and working in Africa, so it was good to spend some time talking about this over a few beers and a curry. It is perhaps fitting that our last meeting was for the 50th anniversary of our departure from Reed's where it had all started, even though we were unaware of this at the time. Our last messages were as usual apologies for not having messaged sooner, and then comments on the current sporting events which Martin followed avidly. I'm pleased that he came to and enjoyed the 50th reunion, and that weekend showed that friendship isn't diminished by distance or time, but could be enhanced by more frequent contact.	2025 reunion with RJ Cricket 1975 Hockey 1974
Scot Blyth (2025)	1975 Valete S. M. BLYTH. VI Science; Entered September, 1968; "O" Levels (8 subjects); "A" Levels (1 subject); School Prefect; House Captain: 2nd XV Rugby, 2nd XI Hockey (Captain), Full colours, House Rugby, Hockey and Cross-country colours, House Drama, C.C.F. Proficiency. Despite being gravely ill, Scot made the supreme effort to attend the Class of '75 50th Anniversary Reunion on 29 June 2025. He was as sharp and funny as ever. Seven days later he was dead. Words by Ian Myles on behalf of the Reed's cohort at Scot's funeral, 24th July, 2025 Right, I've been given 3½ minutes. So forgive me if I gabble. Cheeky-faced Scot Martin Blyth and I first met at boarding school when we were both 11 years old. His early athletic promise as a sprinter took him eventually into the school's rugby 2nd XV, while as a demon right wing in hockey he was selected to represent Surrey county colts. In 1974 he was made Captain of Athletics. For Scot was a born leader, and his appointment in our final year as House Captain was spot-on right. He had an authority about him that was all the the more compelling for being quiet and measured. And with a reputation for even-handed fairness, he quickly came to command the respect of the entire House. Scot had musical talent too. He took cello lessons from the first, played in the school orchestra, and debuted in a school music concert as early as 1969. Well, so far you might be getting a picture of a dutiful and capable young man of promise, a paragon perhaps of all the finer public school virtues. And yet . . . There was another side (actually several other sides) to the Scot I knew at school. For instance: He was older than the rest of us, which meant his 18th birthday came round before anyone else's—the age of course when one could legally down a few. So down a celebratory few we duly did, with Scot downing rather more than most. So much so that he was later to be seen comatose in a bathtub, in which he spent the next 18, yes, count them, 18 hours, checked on regularly by all, including our housemaster. Who never said a word, then or after . . . He was also, frankly, a girl-magnet. Whether it was his undoubted good looks, his mature demeanour, his sharp wit, or his unbounded enjoyment of, well, enjoyment, Scot always seemed to be with the prettiest girl in the room. He was also not above a little mischief. You need to understand that these were different times—if you got caught doing something wrong back then, like as not you got caned. Scot got caned plenty. And sometimes you didn't even have to have done anything wrong yourself. One of our year, replying to my contact about the reunion, thought his main claim to fame might have been, in his words, "setting fire to Scot Blyth's arse during an English lesson." For this the, ah, ars[e]onist received six of the best in front of the whole House, while Scot—for once a totally innocent victim—was given another four to add to his growing total. My housemaster confided to me just before I left that if a boy didn't get whacked occasionally, the masters started to suspect there might be something wrong with him. There was nothing wrong with Scot . . . So in 1975 we all went our separate ways. 2025 rolls around, and I'm looking to get the band back together for a 50th anniversary reunion in late June. Well, we know the rest. The school made an exception to the numbers limit for him on compassionate grounds and—despite being gravely ill—Scot made the supreme effort to come to the Sunday reunion, wheelchair-bound and cocooned in the love of his family. Courageous to the last, he was determined to be there. And he was as sharp as ever. Just seven days later, he was gone. How privileged we all were to be able to be with him one more time. I initially wrote loads more, but time is tight. I've printed out a longer version with some cracking Scot stories, which anyone who wants can read later. Sum him up in a sentence: dutifully responsible—endearingly irresponsible. To Harrison and Will, to Lou and Jo, I say bless you all, you're a credit to your old man. To Scot I say again, Safe Journey old friend, from all of us who knew you at Reed's, go with our love. (This text substantially shortened from first draft to fit a 3½-minute limit. Original long version here)	2025 reunion with daughters Lou and Jo Athletics 1975
John Holt (2023)	1975 Valete J. B. HOLT. VI Arts; Entered April, 1970; "O" Levels (9 subjects); "A" Levels (3 subjects); 1st XV Rugby; School Rugby Half-colours; School Prefect. The Reeder 2023 We are most grateful to John's widow, Jeanette, for this touching tribute to him. "John lost his father when he was aged 13 and his mother at 16. She had been hospitalised with a serious neurological condition at about the time he lost his father so John and his younger brother, Nick, were placed in the care of the Local Authority, because they had no next of kin. "They were fortunate to be sent as Foundation boarders to Reed's where they were fully funded because of their difficult backgrounds. At Reed's, John attended some post confirmation classes run by the Chaplain, and attended the Christian Union run by John Wright (Housemaster) and his wife Mary. "As John was coming towards the end of his time at Reed's wondering what would happen when he left, he was fostered by John and Mary Wright. The Wrights remained close parental figures to John and his brother Nick, although sadly John Wright died in 1992. Mary later remarried another lovely man and they have remained in close relationship with the Holt family. "John went on to achieve a first-class honours degree in Behavioural Science at Aston University, followed by an MSc in Management Science from Imperial College. He then secured a Research Fellowship, leading to a PhD, funded by the MoD at Southampton University. His subsequent career was as an Operational Researcher, using mathematical and computer models to solve complex strategic decisions and problems for the defence industry and he later became a Fellow of the Operational Research Society. "John returned to live in the Cobham area in 1988 with his wife Jeanette. They have two, grown-up married children, Eleanor and Daniel, and just recently have been blessed with three baby granddaughters. "Sadly, John suffered from a neurological illness which resulted in him having to take early retirement in 2013. However, he faced his long illness with great bravery and without self-pity; he died on 1st April 2023 at the Royal Surrey County Hospital. His Christian faith, initially ignited through the Reed's School Christian Union, was a great source of strength to him throughout his life. He always remained grateful for the excellent education he received at Reed's which enabled him to pursue his erudite career and, most importantly, for the love and kindness shown to him by John and Mary Wright during a difficult time in his life and for their subsequent love and friendship over so many years."	From Reeder obituary With brother Nick Rugby 1975
Ian Deans (2022)	1975 Valete I. A. DEANS. VI Science; Entered September, 1969; "O" Levels (7 subjects); "A" Levels (1 subject); House Prefect; 2nd XV Rugby; House Rugby colours; Cross country (colours); House Sailing Team; Printing Press Business Manager; C.C.F. Advanced Proficiency, Sergeant. The Reeder 2022 This tribute was kindly provided by Ian's brother, Andrew Deans (Capel 1973). "Ian died suddenly and unexpectedly on 21st August from a heart attack at home. "We both started as boarders at Reed's in 1969 when our parents went to work in the Middle East, with Ian starting in The Close. "He was a very active sportsman and continued playing rugby for the old boys for a number of years; when he hung up his boots, he became an Honorary Steward at Twickenham which he loved, particularly mentoring new recruits. He remained involved with the ORs and the School and in recent years attended both reunions and careers days imparting advice about engineering, including the geotechnical side, his area of expertise. "After School, Ian did his first degree at Kingston University and then, after a stint working in Saudi Arabia, he took his Masters at Imperial College at the Royal School of Mines. Ian was a highly regarded geotechnical engineer and highlights of his career included: being No 2 on the site for clearing and laying foundations of the Millennium Dome project; sorting out the problems with moving slopes on the trans Pennines motorway; leading the geotechnical team in building the island for the new Hong Kong Airport; major works on the Zambezi at Victoria Falls; major projects in Mali and the ground works for the Haj Airport outside Jeddah which is the largest airport building in the world with two 7-km railways in it. He also worked on the Chelsea Harbour projects and was, in fact, working on the latest extension at the time of his untimely death. However, probably the highlight of his career was leading the technical side on the clean-up and foundations on the Olympic site at Stratford. He was very pleased that he facilitated hand-over for the post-foundation construction works six week early, a rare achievement in major infrastructure projects. "The majority of his working life was at Atkins in Epsom but a few years ago he was asked to establish a London office for a specialist Manchester consultancy LK, which was very successful. "At home he married, Melanie, and they had a daughter Connie. Sadly, Ian lost his wife to cancer three and a half years ago so had moved to Hertford to be near Connie, her husband, Paul, and his two grand-daughters upon whom Ian doted. Ian was first and foremost a family man. "Ian was also a person of great faith which sustained him in both good and bad times. "He was a very special person and his unexpected passing leaves a huge void in the lives of his family, friends and colleagues, many of whom attended a service of thanksgiving at St Andrew's Hertford in September. "Ian's life was one well-lived. Lucy Winkett, the Rector of St James's Piccadilly, did a Thought for the Day on Radio 4 a while ago. She said: 'the only thing we really leave behind is love.'. Ian left that in abundance so that all who knew him will be sustained by that love for the remainder of their lives."	FutureCareers 2018 Athletics 1973
Nigel Hart (2021)	1973 Valete N. D. L. HART. Form V; Entered September, 1968; "O" Level (7 subjects): House Art Representative. The Reeder 2000 NIGEL HART (1974) is a freelance technical illustrator, graphic designer and webmaster based on a small island on the west coast of Canada, called Gabriola. How we know The mention of Gabriola in the Reeder snippet above led to a pdf record of Nigel and Vivian Hart's 2014 induction into the Rotary Club of Kelowna Sunrise, Canada. Which included the following: "Nigel was born in Montreal and grew up in England, south of London, and then St. Ives in Cornwall. After graduating as a technical illustrator he returned to live in Ottawa in the late seventies, where he met his love, Vivian and started a 29-year career illustrating anything and everything military for DND technical manuals, with Eyretechnics, Ottawa, Northwest Industries (CAE Aviation), Edmonton, and large process interactive training programs, TransTech Interactive, North Vancouver. "Nigel and Vivian were married two years after they met and were eventually blessed with a third child. Thirty years later the kids were grown, had five grandchildren between them and children and grandchildren all resided in Alberta. Nigel and Vivian had lived on Gabriola Island for fourteen years, before deciding it was time to be closer to the kids and moved to Kelowna in February of this year. "Nigel changed careers and is now in his third year as a Financial Security Advisor for London Life. Vivian continues to run her business of seventeen years, bringing in foreign students for ESL and cultural, group and individual high school placement programs across Canada." A letter to the Rotary Club of Kelowna Sunrise produced the following reply from Treasurer Mike Wright: "Sorry to be sharing sad news by email, but Mr. Hart is deceased. I don't have any of the details; I've only been a member of the Rotary Club for 3 years and I understand that Mr. Hart passed before that." Andy Wotton's search on the ancestry.com website established that Nigel Donald Ledgard Hart died on 27 December 2021, at the age of 64, in Cancún, Mexico.	With wife Vivian ca. 2014 Undated, from ancestry.com
Stephen Nicholson (2020)	1976 Valete J. S. D. NICHOLSON. VI Arts; Entered September, 1970; "O" Levels (10 subjects); "A" Levels (3 subjects); School Prefect; School Orchestra; School Choir; Choral Society. The Reeder 2021 We are indebted to OR, Robert Andrews (Bristowe 1976), for passing on the sad news about Steven and for putting together this touching tribute. "Steven joined Bristowe in September 1970 and left in 1976, having stayed on for a third year in Sixth Form to try, I believe, for the Oxbridge exams. However, this must have been unsuccessful as he studied music at Bristol University and then took a PGCE at Reading. He played clarinet, piano, viola and bassoon and was a wealth of knowledge on all matters musical, and in the world of literature too. "His first job was at Feltonfleet School in Cobham and then St Edmund's College in Ware. He owned a flat in Cobham for many years but decided to travel, living and teaching in France, Denmark, Turkey and Portugal to name but four countries that I can be sure of! He returned to the UK after Brexit to help organise care for his mother (who died in February 2018), but at the end of 2016 he was sadly diagnosed with cancer with a prognosis of two to five years. That he lived to have nearly four of those was a blessing, but the impact of the COVID pandemic caused much of his medical and social support to collapse, and he tragically passed away in October 2020. "He last visited me in October 2019 when this picture was taken, and I visited him at the end of August 2020 when we managed some clarinet and piano playing, although sadly no piano duets on that occasion."	2019 House music 1974
Malcolm Hume (2017)	1975 Valete M. S. HUME. VI Science; Entered September, 1968; "O" Levels (7 subjects), "A" Levels (1 subject); 1st XI Hockey, 1975; 3rd XI Rugby, 1974; House Athletics and Cross-Country Teams. The Reeder 2017 We heard from Malcolm's sister, Fiona, that he sadly passed away peacefully on 2nd July 2017 at Trinity Hospice, Blackpool with both of his sisters at his side. He had battled for four years against cancer and was aged just 60. Malcolm sadly leaves a beloved son, Scott, 21 years of age. Malcolm was a Captain in the Merchant Navy and at his funeral in July, he had a guard of honour of eight from the Merchant Navy and they flew the flag at half mast at the nautical college where he trained. Should any of his former class mates wish to get in touch, Fiona would be delighted to hear from them. Please contact Sharmaine for an email address.	Hockey 1975
Nick Clark (2015)	1975 Valete N. CLARK. VI Arts; Entered September, 1968; "O" Levels (6 subjects); 1st XV Rugby, 1973-74, 1st XI Cricket, 1973-74; School Swimming Team, 1969-1975; 2nd XI Hockey, 1975; C.C.F. Basic Proficiency. How we know Initial word of Nick's passing came via Hugo Stacey. He and Nick were both living in Porthcawl, and after Hugo's retirement had occasionally chatted online. It was on Nick's wife Sally's Facebook page that Hugo later learned of Nick's death. In a post dated 10 February 2018, Sally writes: "Miss you so much Nick Clark, I can't believe it has been 3 years." Further confirmation came from Andy Wotton's search on ancestry.com. Listed there is a Nicholas Charles Clark, born 13th November 1956, died 10th February 2015, last known residence Bridgend—about 7 miles from Porthcawl. Although his Valete entry has him as only N. Clark, Nick is captioned in the sports photos right as N. C. Clark.	With wife Sally Swimming 1973 Rugby 1974
Martin Proyer (1998)	1975 Valete M. P. PROYER. VI Arts; Entered September, 1968; "O" Levels (6 subjects); House Prefect; 3rd XI Cricket; House Cricket; Cross-country; Table Tennis; Athletics: C.C.F. Proficiency. The Reedonian 1974 Placed 4th in school bridge ladder with partner Graham Massie. The Reedonian 1975 Placed 4th in Open javelin. The Reeder 1987 MARTIN PROYER (1975) is still serving with the Fleet Royal Auxiliary as a navigating officer. He and his wife Sharon were expecting their first child at the time of writing. Martin hopes to be on leave for one Reunion Day. It hasn't happened yet. The Reeder 1988 Congratulations to MARTIN and SHARON PROYER on the birth of their son JAMES IAIN. Death Notice During my searches I came across a Death Notice for a Martin Paul Proyer on the geni.com website. The dates matched—1957-1998. Cause of death: heart attack. (Ian) Andy Wotton added the following from ancestry.com: Martin was born on 8th June 1957 in Redruth, Cornwall. He married Sharon Head in 1981 in Brighton, died of a heart attack at the age of 40 on 3rd January 1998. He was buried/cremated in Shaftesbury, Dorset.
Grant Davidson (1997)	1974 Valete G. DAVIDSON. VI Science; Entered September, 1970; "O" Level (5 subjects); 2nd XV Rugby; School Swimming Team, Colours; House Colours for Rugby and Swimming. Neil Ridsdale writes: Grant Davidson AKA Jock. Grant's easy-going demeanour hid a wild, fearless man—and we loved him. My first memory of Grant was in our first week at Reed's when an older boy took an unhealthy shine to him in the dormitory. Grant told him to 'Feck off' and when he ignored him, knocked him to the ground Bang! Welcome Jock Davidson. From age 8 Grant had attended a Scottish boarding school and seemed completely self-reliant by the time he arrived at Reed's aged 13. Whereas most of us in our first term were desperate to make friends and forge alliances, Jock held back and kept his own counsel. We soon learnt that there was nothing worth stealing in Jock's tuck box—it was full of dark, evil things. When Jock was very young his family lived in Malaysia and he'd developed a taste for odd exotic street food. These Asian 'delicacies', that he unnecessarily locked in his tuck box, looked like dried insects and dirty tree roots. He would happily chew on these abominations in the common room, offering them around, knowing full well we all found them disgusting. Although Grant was a full-time boarder at Reed's, his parents lived next door to the school and he seemed to live at least two lives. I appreciated his local knowledge of parties. At age 14 we'd hatch the same plan - escape - crash the party - go our separate ways to see how far we could get with a girl - and at a pre-agreed time, meet up for a fight. Remember, we were only 14. At 15 when most of us were still lying about non-existent conquests, Grant was seriously 'active' and successfully covert about it. I remember a master at school being totally unaware that Grant had been regularly servicing his teenage daughter. Grant thought it hilarious that she'd been told to stay clear of that Ridsdale boy, whilst he was allowed open access. Grant's unassuming and respectful demeanour led fathers to trust him with their daughters—big mistake. Jock was of course a tough rugby player. To this day I have never seen anyone else do three consecutive side steps all in the same direction. And whenever I watch Faf de Klerk, I'm always reminded of Jock. Grant was a good swimmer and a great diver. But it was hard to watch him compete at diving; he'd tuck his head so close to the board, you felt he'd be scalped. After 'A' levels Grant went to college to study landscaping and then spent a year in Denmark. I never gleaned why he chose Denmark, but suspected a woman was involved. Grant then travelled to Trinidad to join a West Indian friend he'd met at college, to set up a tree surgery and landscaping business. Trinidad suited Grant. He loved its laid-back vibe, the sunny weather, the beautiful women, the spicy food and of course the Ganja. Jock told me Trinidadian families were typically a mix of colours and hues and everyone loved to classify you—Jock was known as 'A Red'. In Trinidad Grant met the love of his life, a lady called Betty. Betty was the only person I ever saw able to manage Jock. The daughter of a priest of French descent and an Indian mother, Betty had beauty, intelligence and a tremendous joie de vivre—she still has—and they married. In yachty circles Jock was a legend. Grant had been crewing on the lead yacht in an important race, when the boat's mainsail wires became badly snared, forcing the captain to prepare to abort the race. Without prompting, Grant shinnied up the mast. At his funeral a sailing friend of Jock's told me—we were all stunned to see a crew member that was new to our team, at the very top of our swaying mast over 90ft high. He had no harness and was just holding on by his legs, calmly using both arms to untangle the offending wires. The yacht won the race and the story of mad Jock became folklore. Grant loved to hang-glide. He told me once he'd come close to drowning after jumping off a sea cliff where thermals swept him upwards and out to sea. When he eventually escaped the wind stream he was able to tack back and land a few feet from the beech, expecting the water to be shallow enough to walk out from. It wasn't—it was deep. Strapped underneath the glider he found himself completely submerged with his wings taking on water and pushing him down. He couldn't make his release cord work and he said he quickly realised the glider was trying to kill him. He said he decided that if he was going to drown him, he was going to take the bastard with him. Jock started smashing at its frame and tearing at its sails. After a spirited fight Grant emerged as the victor, dragging the glider's broken carcass onto the beach. Jock told me about another life-threatening incident in Trinidad when he was working 40ft up, as a tree surgeon. He needed a rope moved that was hanging to the ground from a branch above him. His assistant on the ground had decided to take a nap and no amount of shouting could stir him. Frustrated, Grant unhooked his safety line to walk along a branch to grab the rope. The subsequent fall broke his back and he was unable to work for months. Grant said Trinidad's economy was greatly affected by the oil price and when it was low, many businesses struggled. On a few occasions Grant would travel back to the UK by himself, to earn money to take back home. I was delighted when he was around to help me celebrate the birth of my son. My wife Jane likes to remind me of how I was 5 hours late to collect her from hospital and turned up in bare feet and a torn shirt. Grant and I had gone out to celebrate after the birth, whilst Jane and baby spent a night in hospital. True to our 14-year-old selves, we involved a group of lads in wrestling matches in a local pub. The landlord seemed to enjoy the spectacle and the whole thing kicked off when he offered a free drink to the winner of each bout. Eventually it led to a lock-in at the pub and I woke up there next morning already late for collecting Jane. I explained to her the Jock affect was to blame and for some reason he was rewarded with the responsibility of being a God-parent. On another visit from Trinidad a few years later, Grant offered to lop and prune a large cedar tree in our front garden. I remember my sons watching incredulously as he strapped 10-inch spikes to his boots, secured a rope to the tree and proceeded to walk up the trunk like Batman. Eventually Grant and Betty both returned to settle in England for work and bought a house in Guildford. My wife liked to annoy me by saying if she had to choose a man to share a desert island with, she'd choose Grant. Jock's self-sufficiency extended to all things wild. He knew all the edible forest plants and had a particular expertise in fungi, knowing which ones you could eat, how to prepare them and which you could smoke. One night, driving home after work in his pickup truck, Grant knocked down a deer. He lifted the dead animal into the back and a week later served up the most delicious Bambi bourguignon to a large group of friends. It transpired that Jock on the night of his roadkill had received a visit from the police. His neighbour had called 999 fearing for Betty's safety, after seeing Jock at the dead of night, stringing up a large carcass to a tree. I know of no one else who'd have the slightest inkling of how to cure, skin, cut and then cook a whole deer. Grant asked me to join him in what turned out to be a ridiculously extreme sport—underwater hockey. Underwater hockey, also known as octopush, involves pushing a lead puck along the bottom of a pool with a small wood paddle. Players have masks and flippers and score by pushing the puck through goals sunken at the bottom of each pool end. The problem at Guildford at that time was the club could only hire an Olympic-sized diving pool. So instead of playing at the depth of 6ft, you played at the depth of over 16ft. Anyone who's dived to the bottom of a diving pool knows you want to come up pretty quickly. Imagine over an hour of repeatedly ducking down to 16+ft and furiously swimming at that depth for as long as you can. It's a strain. It was a new sport in England played mainly by young university students. We in our mid 40's, were by far the oldest players at Guildford. After playing I had bad headaches, broken eye capillaries and blurred vision. It was after a blood sac appeared that completely covered one eye, that I told Grant I was bowing out. Three months later Grant was pulled out of the pool dead, having suffered a ruptured aneurism whilst playing underwater hockey at Guildford.	With wife Betty With father Sid Swimming 1974

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