Tribute Colin was born in Birmingham in 1931 to his mother Phyllis and father George. His father gave up being a comedian to become a pub landlord, as you do, and managed the Broadway in Castle Bromwich, where Colin was brought up, with his elder sister Joyce, and ten years later, a younger brother Clive. Colin had an inquisitive mind, and with busy parents, was often left to his own devices. He became fascinated with radio. He recalls laying underneath their family radiogram watching the glowing valves and wondering how they worked. It didn’t end there. During the war he and a friend, who lived across the road, decided to communicate with each other using torches and morse code. When the police came banging on the door suspecting a Nazi spy ring operating from the local pub, it was a bit of a shock! But it didn’t deter him, he remained interested in radios all his life. Just ask Dot how many radios there are scattered around their home. During his teenage years he first set eyes upon Dot. He told me the tale about how he saw her running from Small Heath Park, and grabbed her friend to ask who she was. He was sixteen and Dot was fourteen and a half at the time. Innocent romance blossomed until Colin was called up to do his National Service in the RAF in Singapore, and Colin being Colin he calculated that he would lose less in wages if he did his N.S. as an eighteen year old apprentice, rather than wait until twenty-one when he would be on “the rate”. He was always a shrewd one. Their long distance romance continued by letter, and on Colin’s return, Dot and he became engaged, and were married in 1954. He told me recently that Dot was the only girlfriend he ever had and was the love of his life, although Doris Day came a close second! Colin took his responsibilities as a husband and father seriously and worked hard to provide for his family. He was an electrician by trade and a very ingenious man, often making gadgets to amuse friends and family. His garage was his domain. He was the go to man if anything needed mending. His famous phrase was “I can’t guarantee to fix it, but I’ll guarantee to take a look.” However nine times out of ten it came back mended. As a result of his RAF experience he maintained an interest in aviation all his life. In recent years he picked up with his comrades from 81 squadron, and enjoyed reminiscing about old times at the 81 Squadron Association annual dinner. Colin was not a natural socialiser, he never thought he was much good at it, but he was! Like his old valve radio, he just needed time to warm up! Over the years he grew in confidence from the marvellous holidays he and Dot enjoyed with their good neighbours and friends Chris and Pete. They travelled the world together and thoroughly enjoyed their experiences, making many memories to treasure. Before the days of tight airline security, he always packed a small toolkit to take away with him, “just in case.” Inevitably he would be delayed at customs to explain himself, much to the frustration of the rest of his party. He was usually forgiven though, as there was nearly always an occasion when the kit was called on for an emergency repair. There are lots more stories that I hope Chris will share with us later. Colin liked nothing more than to see people happy and smiling. Compassionate, caring and empathetic he was always on the side of the underdog. He was a good listener and his door was open to people when they encountered life’s challenges. He never judged, he just tried to make things better, usually with a cup of tea and biscuit. (Yorkshire for his guests, PG tips for himself). Devoted to Dot, he loved to look after her. Until recently he was still cycling down to the shop first thing in the morning to buy the newspaper so that she could tackle the crossword over breakfast. It was always coffee and PopMaster on Radio 2 at 10.30am, even though he could rarely answer any of the questions himself. Lunch up the garden by the pond on sunny days. In high summer he’d even switch on the fountain. After lunch they’d plan what they were going to have for dinner, which they’d eat whilst watching Eggheads. He maintained a real thirst for general knowledge, and Eggheads was probably one of Colin’s favourite TV programmes. A simple life, but for them it worked for nearly 63 years. A man of his word, honourable and brave. A quality he showed throughout his life, but never more so than when doctors diagnosed his final health problem and he decided it was time to go. He always said he didn’t want to go on beyond his sell by date. As Col would say to me every time I left him “Mind how you go, take care, God bless.” So Col, mind how you go, take care, God bless, until hopefully, we meet again.