Alan was born on the 28th of February 1944 in Farnborough, Kent, to Elsie and Arthur, a little brother  for John and Roy. He had a happy childhood in what was then quite a rural setting with much more freedom to roam than children have now. He developed a love of the outdoors and an interest in wildlife. His family had a dog called Sandy and cats and he was always fond of animals. Another great thing that stems from his childhood was  his sweet tooth. His grandparents owned a sweet shop. His mum helped out there, and they always visited their grandparents on Sundays. As well as his brothers, he had the companionship of his two cousins, Kerry and Barry, whose father had died shortly after the war. They came to stay most weekends. Their Mother, Auntie Rita, and Alan’s Mum Elsie became very close. It was a small but united family. They had caravan holidays on the south coast and days out to Brighton. There are photos of Elsie reclining in a deck chair in her best dress – she had a great sense of style – with Nan and Alan, as a teenager, also well dressed, enjoying the seaside.

He enjoyed school and there is a photo of him looking very smart in his school blazer with a row of pens at the ready in his top pocket. The main attraction of school were the technical classes where he could make things with his hands and, of course, sport. He held the school record for the 100 yards and was a good all-round sportsman. He played football, rugby, cricket, golf…just about any sport. His early interest in football led to him qualify as a county referee and I’ll say more about his connection with athletics in a moment.

When he left school, he worked briefly at Woolworths in Petts Wood. He was only there until the next intake of police cadets and he joined when he was just 16.

It was while he was in the Metropolitan police that he met Liz. He was living with other young policemen in the section house and she was living nearby in student accommodation. It was not surprising that a lot of young policemen dropped by for coffee, although I am assured that it was all very proper. There was a matron in charge and no young man ever got beyond the main hall. The Met made sure that all the young men in the section house were well occupied. They had a range of recreation facilities including social events such as dancing with live bands. Liz and her fellow students, who came from far afield, like Scotland, rarely went home at weekends and were much in demand as dancing partners.  Many of the policemen had cars and they would take the girls off to the coast for the day. They were all friends together and Liz and Alan hit it off in the summer of 1969.

A year later they decided to get engaged. A visit to Edinburgh was necessary so that Alan could be vetted by Liz’s family. He had to remember to call her Elizabeth in front of her dad. Her two sisters and their husbands and her brother and his wife joined in the inspection and after a night out all together at the Maybury, he passed muster. It was a special night because it was the only night they were all together, before the family spread out all over the globe. Alan and the brothers bonded over golf and electronics and Liz’s Dad was pleased and proud that his daughter was to marry a young man with such a respectable profession. A year later in 1971 they had a traditional Whitsun wedding in Granton Parish Church. A telegram from her Auntie Jean in New Zealand asked for any brochures he could get from any Royal events and those he sent were passed delightedly all over New Zealand.

Alan enjoyed his career in the police, moving into CID, but policing in London in the 60s and 70s was no easy matter. The Kray twins and their likes made London a dangerous place and Alan never spoke about the serious side of his work. He did, however, tell a few lighter anecdotes about his experiences, such as the time they had been on a stakeout on one of the commons. In due course, they set off in hot pursuit of the suspect, Alan, fleet-of-foot, accompanied by a mounted policeman. The horse was lagging behind and Alan told his colleague to hurry it up. “I can’t go too fast,” he replied. “My horse is pregnant.”

He was on duty at great state occasions. He was part of history at Winston Churchill’s funeral and he was at many Royal events such as Trooping the Colours. His mother was very proud of him in his best uniform.

However, the shift pattern was not conducive to family life and he left the police just before Karen was born in 1974. He got a steady 9-5 job with Reliance in the personnel department and he was responsible for vetting. He was always able to suss people out.  It was a small firm in those days and there were dinners with the directors and staff dances. It was a good place to work but commuting from Orpington was hard going. It was in the dark days of the three day week and IRA activity, which meant Alan was having to check under his car, and Liz and Alan decided London was no place to bring up children. They had always joked about retiring to Scotland. So, a little earlier than planned, they sold up, put their belongings in storage, and headed north. They stayed with Liz’s Dad and started job-hunting. A job at Livingston came up and so they moved out to  the New Town. After a spell with Pye, Alan moved to James Young Paraffin Light and Mineral Oil Company where he moved from security to personnel. He was the first-aider and trained other first-aiders. He was there for about eight years.

By this time, Stephen had been born and he and Karen enjoyed the Christmas parties that the works put on and the coach trips including visits to the panto at the King’s Theatre, suitably amazed and delighted when Stanley Baxter announced “There is a group here from The James Young Paraffin Light and Mineral Oil Company”, a bit more of a mouthful than plain BP. His final job was at Heriot Watt University where he was in charge of the Estate Office Security, managing the janitorial staff and dealing with student security which Liz described as “colourful”.  It was a job he loved. Continuing his mentoring, he taught staff and students to drive the minibuses safely, although some of the staff were quite challenging to teach. He was always keen on training and liked to share his knowledge and skills. Coming full circle from his days in the Met, he dealt with royal visits.

I asked Karen and Stephen what he was like as a dad and they told me he had very definite views on right and wrong. He was strict, but what mattered to him most was fairness.

They were very appreciative of all the practical things he did for them: tiling Stephen’s bathroom, helping them buy cars, moving house. Many times he was heard to say “No more settees upstairs” but he always did it. He fixes things and wired things for them and taught Karen how to drive on ice and snow and bought them tickets to go rally driving at Knockhill.

He had many practical hobbies. As a young man he was a keen photographer and developed and printed his own photographs in the dark room at the section house. He became interested in home movies and even transferred his Super 8 film on to video.

When home computers became available, he was first in the queue for a Sinclair ZX81 which he taught himself to programme.  He was equally interested in the hardware and always had things in bits to see how he could get the most out them and embraced the internet while it was still a novelty. He was very happy that he could share his pleasure in techie things with his grandson Oliver. He was a very, very proud grandfather.

His love of the outdoors was lifelong. He could identify most birds by their call and the wealth of wildlife was one of the attractions of Scotland. Before the children were at school they were going up mountains. There is a photo of Stephen going up a mountain as a toddler in reins. Karen was just months old when Alan and Liz went to see the Ospreys at Boat of Garten and had to take it in shifts because they couldn’t guarantee that she would stay quiet. Both Karen and Stephen are passionate about birds as a legacy of these early rambles with their parents. He was never out without his birdbook and binoculars and he was very pleased that Oliver is following in the family tradition as a Junior Ornithologist. Alan’s best birthday presents were a trip to see the red kites at Argaty and the experience of flying a harris hawk near Comrie. He had a sharp eye and always spotted birds before anyone else, even when driving.

He loved walking with his Labrador-Collie cross, Sandy. There was nothing to beat a weekend walk and a picnic.

His ideal holiday was watching minke whales and dolphins off the west coast of Scotland on one of the boats undertaking scientific studies. They take some visitor trips and Alan appreciated the reseachers’ expertise.

He liked taking a boat up and down the Firth of Forth to see the birds. Latterly he and Liz had a camper van and they would hike from Yellowcraigs to North Berwick or Gullane. In times past he would drive down to Devon in one go, but their last long trip was in smaller hops with the camper van, stopping early enough in the day to have a look around.  He always found plenty to see. Very little of Britain was left unexplored and Karen recalled the excitement during a holiday near Gairloch when they saw an otter.

His all consuming passion, however, was athletics, from his days as school champion. When he and Liz were first married, they lived near the Crystal Palace and he and Liz saw all the great stars of the day. He took Stephen up to Craigswood, never guessing what a life-changing effect that would have. Stephen proved to be an outstanding athlete, supported by his dad all the way, but it came to a head when Alan was doing a residential course in coaching and time-keeping. His room-mate was the national paralympic coach. When Alan told him Stephen’s times he instantly offered Stephen a place on the team – at his own expense. The money was found with a great fund-raising effort and Stephen and Alan went to Berlin. Stephen came back with three gold medals and a bottle of East German champagne. It was the start of a very distinguished international career. No athlete reaches that level without total effort and dedication but Stephen was the first to tell me he could not have done it without his dad whose effort and dedication matched his own. Alan was driver, timekeeper, sports psychologist, organiser of paperwork, of which there was loads, PA, general factotum and greatest fan. Even family holidays were taken around Stephen’s training to exotic resorts like Birmingham and Nottingham. It was only the need for warm weather training, along with the good track, that took them to Benidorm. No nightclubs. They were up before the heat of the day for training, lunch at the track and the gym in the afternoon.  Liz carried the water bottles.  In complete contrast, there were training days at Balbardie which always seemed to be freezing cold. The whole family went to support him in Sydney and Athens and they have many, many happy memories – even if they did all cry at the medal ceremonies. Stephen broke his leg not long before Athens but his dad still got him to training to make sure the rest of his body stayed in shape.

When Alan was not directly supporting Stephen, he was travelling to athletics meetings all over the country in his capacity as timekeeper.

Alan, surprisingly, did find moments to relax. He loved the classic radio programmes like I’m Sorry I Haven’t A Clue and Just a Minute. His Mum took him to early recordings and he always enjoyed the Goons and Hancock. He always had a book on the go. I was surprised to hear that he liked crime thrillers, but then he picked them to bits and he always spotted the killer before Morse did. He enjoyed going to the theatre, and saw Robert Powell play Sherlock Holmes just a couple of months ago.


He played the keyboard, mainly by ear, although he was working on improving his sightreading.  He had good ear for music and appreciated a good singer. Among his favourites were The Four Freshmen, Dusty Springfield, Abba, Billie Holiday, Nancy Wilson, Tony Bennet, The Beatles and, above all, Sinatra. He liked Porgy and Bess, South Pacific and West Side Story, which he saw at the Playhouse most recently. A recent musical highlight was hearing the Royal Scottish National Orchestra’s Bernstein concert. He had a fine collection of vinyl which he treasured. There is some music that you just don’t risk taking to parties!

His Millennium Project was to build a garden pond. The pond is now in its third incarnation. Alan was finding it increasingly difficult to keep the pumps in order as his Parkinson’s developed and so Liz put her foot down and opted for a wildlife pool. The fish were put up for adoption and he helped cut up the old liner for disposal. He still had a hankering to install some aeration.  Liz was teaching him the elements of gardening and, undeterred by his Parkinson’s, he had got himself a book on watch repairs for beginners.

We remember the big events, and there were plenty of those in Alan’s life, but it is often the little things that stay with us. His family will never forget his love of ice cream. It was not a treat for a hot day. It was a daily necessity. And they will miss his coffee. With typical thoroughness, he researched his equipment, he knew his beans and he just had that touch that makes the perfect cup. He was always up early to make the coffee, even when he was quite ill.

Although he had been ill for some time, his final decline was quite rapid. He passed away peacefully with his family by his side and he will be sadly missed.