G6HC - Alan

Sadly Alan is no longer with us, but he is very fondly remembered by his friends amongst the amateur radio community. Those of us that were lucky enough to know him all have our own memories of this unique character.

Martin G4FKK, knew Alan better than most of us, and shared some memories of Alan in a recent issue of CATS Whispers, the newsletter of the Coulsdon Amateur Transmitting Society:

It was me who "discovered" Alan, plaintively calling CQ on top-band one Sunday afternoon in 1977. He'd just finished constructing a 160m transverter for his home-brew, phasing method, SSB transmitter and, he told me later, had already called CQ twenty four times without a reply. I called him and so began a friendship that was to last over twenty years. Alan often bemoaned the fact that he had bothered to call CQ for that twenty fifth time - he said he wouldn't have had to meet John, G4FIT, and I and that he wouldn't have "had to" get involved with the dreaded Coulsdon Amateur Transmitting Society which we forced him to attend and join. I have a strong feeling he was joking!

Alan had a great, and rather individual, sense of humour and was quite happy to risk tarnishing the reputation of his respected callsign by joining John and I on our daily, after school "Top Band Loony Net" which had a somewhat frivolous attitude towards operating procedures. I remember him informing us once, while we were discussing the charms of a YL we'd espied, that we should bear in mind Girls were generally "the same kit of parts with different design tolerances". He was, after all, an excellent engineer and he encouraged us to take a sound engineering approach to the many and various problems and mysteries we encountered as very inexperienced amateurs (not hams, Alan would never countenance such a misnomer), and would steer us gently but firmly towards an appropriate solution without making either of us feel silly or ignorant; which of course we were!

Before either of us could drive, Alan nobly would convey John and I to rallies, radio emporia, pubs (soft drinks only of course), and club meetings and put up with our severe and ill-informed criticism of his driving skills and also John's loud and extremely realistic screeching tyres impression every time he negotiated a corner. In fact Alan approved of this noisy talent since, he claimed, it saved his tyres having to squeal themselves thus saving rubber. Being but callow youths, I suspect we both took his long suffering kindness rather for granted at the time.

Looking back I think Alan must have been amused by our enthusiasm and youthful excesses but was always highly supportive of us and immensely loyal in the face of parental disapproval at some of the larger "lumps of old rubbish" we regularly would bring back from rallies and/or junk sales. He was not, however, above dealing harshly with any insurrection in the ranks. In the 70's and early 80's CATS would enter a lot of the more popular contests and field days and Alan was a keen participant. He would turn up early to help rig the site and invariably would stay overnight ensconced in an army style bivouac. During one field day John and I were horrified to discover that he would make use of his mess tin for shaving purposes and then use it for cooking his breakfast. We determined that this instrument should be commandeered and planned an early morning ambush on his little tent. Despite launching our offensive at a ridiculously early hour, some sixth sense must have warned Alan of our impending attack and the boarders were repelled with some vigour! The early shift operators were treated to the spectacle of the pair of us being marched away from the tent behind Alan who was leading us firmly by the hair - ouch! I'm surprised I still have any. John hasn't, sadly. On another occasion, while walking across a pub car park towards Alan's famous Triumph Herald, John made the mistake, upon noticing a waste paper bin, of saying "I've never been in that bin" at which I helped hold him down as Alan worked out the most scientific way of assisting him to realise this strange ambition. I can still hear Alan laughing "poor little animal" as we left John wedged firmly in the bin with legs, arms and head all pointing skywards and moaning piteously.

Alan was a keen photographer at field day sites and at rallies but was notoriously camera shy himself. John and I developed a method of distracting him long enough to capture him on film. This consisted of John poking Alan in the ear with the aerial of his 'top-band-hand-portable-rig' which would lead to momentary indecision on Alan's part as to whether to deal firmly with the perpetrator of this outrage or hold his hand up in front of my camera lens - this slight delay was generally long enough for me to take the picture and for both of us to get out of harm's way! I've included one of these pictures in the compilation at the end.

As I'm sure all CATS members are aware, Alan's organisational abilities were breathtaking; he always told me to remember the seven P's. As this is a family newsletter, I shall only record here what he referred to as "Grandma's six P version" which goes; "Proper Planning and Preparation Prevents Poor Performance". All club activities were filed meticulously as were most other things in his life. The club once had the misfortune of having me as its chairman - for two years I seem to remember - and, being by nature the disorganised sort, I was always extremely grateful that minutes of committee proceedings were kept so accurately. He kept a record of the number of QSO's he had had with me, John and Andy and I remember us all going out for a curry, dragging poor Freda along with us, to celebrate the first G6HC/G4FKK "kilocontact". Over the years many celebratory curries were enjoyed and various records achieved and noted. Alan and Freda came to my wedding and our son was named after him. I had a weekly sked with Alan on 80m and, looking back at my log, the average QSO duration was about an hour. Our son (Little Alan), once made the memorable comment to his Mother; "Daddy's talking to Big Alan again, that means he's going to be late for dinner".

It's a cliché, but true nonetheless, that 'you don't know what you've got till it's gone' and I still can't quite believe that I'm never going to hear those beautifully modulated, S9+30 tones booming out of the shack loudspeaker again.

Alan was kind, generous, loyal, funny, a proper Engineer, a strict supporter of the Queen's English (he'd have winced at my execrable grammar), a mainstay of this society, a family man, a friend of the feline race and my mate. I'll never forget him.

Martin G4FKK

Despite Alan's protests, over the years, he was captured on film and you may like to take a look.