That is very sad news indeed. I have had innumerable phone conversations with John over the years since I first met him (when he sold me his old ML7) – a typical phone conversation would last at least an hour, and would cover wide-ranging topics from gear cutting, CNC, and machining, through to reminiscences of his biking days and the time he spent in various engineering companies. I will always remember him for his generosity, his humour, and his honesty – he is a great loss, to his family, to the engineering community, and to those of us lucky enough to be able to call him a friend. He was always up for a practical joke, and sometimes his methods of conflict resolution were, shall we say, somewhat direct, but his stories about them were always told with a twinkle in the eye. A couple of anecdotes that illustrate this:
I was showing my DivisionMaster at Harrogate one year, and John had said he would drop by on the Saturday morning. He arrived a bit later than expected, looking a little sheepish. "I've had a visit from Plod" he said. Apparently, the teenage son of a neighbour was into repairing old bangers, and had two or three parked in the street – he wasn't particular about where he parked them and John had to have words a few times about said bangers blocking his driveway. This happened again on the morning of the show, so John's patience finally ran out. John got out his forklift truck, raised the forks to car side window height, and drove the forks through the side windows of the banger, raised the forks and lifted the car up bodily, took it across the road, and dropped it squarely on top of one of the other old bangers. Job done – he could now get his car out of the drive. However, apparently plod was not amused…
Or there was the time he was in his workshop and spotted a customer coming up the drive. John happened to have an old, broken portable phone lying on the bench, so he picked it up and pretended to be on the phone having an acrimonious conversation with a supplier – just as the customer came in the door, John was in full flood, turning the air blue and foaming at the mouth. He paused for breath, slammed the phone down on the bench, and beat it to smithereens with a large hammer. He turned to the customer, who was stopped in his tracks by the invective, John's glare, and the smashed phone. "Err…I'll come back later!" he said, in a trembling voice, and beat a hasty retreat.
I will miss him greatly.
Regards,
Tony
Edited By Neil Wyatt on 24/10/2017 17:37:13