Allan died very suddenly and unexpectedly on Sunday Feb 27th 2005. He had been in hospital for a few days with lack of blood oxygen caused by the Pulmonary Fibrosis he was developing. This, in its turn, a result of rheumatoid arthritis which was reaching a very painful state. However the condition was improving and he expected to be discharged on Monday.

Early Sunday morning he suffered a severe stroke which quickly rendered him deeply unconscious, a state from which he never recovered, and he died shortly afterwards. In 1983,just as his new business was making headway, he was victim in a bad car accident, suffering extensive damage to his head and various broken limbs. That he survived at all is a testament to his courage and determination.

After six weeks in hospital, four in intensive care, he was sent home as it was felt the home enviroment would help restore his memory. Within the month he was picking up the reins, from home to start with and then with the help of a driver [and general help], as he was not allowed to drive for two years. At his retirement he left a thriving and well respected business, which makes us, Nicol, Louise, Valerie and myself very proud

Allan's funeral was held in our local church which was just beginning a much needed restoration , much of it planned by Allan in his short retirement. The family were joined by many friends and acquaintances who shared their happy memories with us.

A further footnote to Graham Edwards' contribution.

After the 'panty raid' on Chichester all of the students who knew anyone at Farnborough were called, out of breakfast, to the 'presence' of the Principal and duly informed that such behaviour was not acceptable, and that in future there would be no 'open invitations' to the RAE, known individuals only. Our blank looks convinced the Principal that we had no fore knowledge and I think we must have got off with a stern warning as I don't remember anything more. I have to admit that I slept through all the excitement! I have a letter from Allan which fiercely refutes the idea that he was involved, he says if he had been they would have be more careful not to have got caught!!

A further footnote to Vic Riley.

The evening before Victor died, Allan and he had been at my home, we had had a small party for my sister's birthday. It was the time of the Asian Flu' epidemic and plans had to be curtailed as so many people were unwell. On occasions such as this Allan often stayed overnight but one of them had something else on the next day and elected to leave. Allan was living in Fleet at the time, having been thrown out of the Hostel for some misdemeanor, he drove there and then Vic was to go back to the Hostel. It was not a wild party and my parents would have insisted they stayed and got up early in the morning to return to Farnborough if they had thought there was any danger in them driving.

This is an abridged version of an e-mail I received from our daughter in America after her return there from Allan's funeral, there hadn't been much time to talk whilst she had been here. She has inherited Allan's gift for words and can tell you more about the man than I ever could!

Diana

On December 27th 2004, I put my mother, father, brother and sister on an airplane from Washington, Dulles to Manchester England, after spending our first Christmas all together in at least 20 years. We had a wonderful time, despite freezing weather and the potential for tension that always exists when families get together for big holidays. Two months later, to the day February 27th 2005, my mother called me from home in Glasgow, Scotland to tell me my father was dead ….. He had been diagnosed with a rheumatoid disease, which had manifested in his lungs as pulmonary fibrosis, as well as painful, swollen joints in his hands and feet. A few days before his death, he had been admitted to the hospital, struggling for breath, but had seemed to be recovering. The cause of death on the certificate was 'cerebrovascular accident', which is 'doctor speak' for stroke. He had been anti-coagulated for years since blood clots were found in his legs. My guess is that either he had too much of the anti-coagulant in his blood, or too little, and thus he either had a bleed in his brain or a clot. Either way, the damage was severe enough to kill him, despite the hospital's best efforts to revive him.

Writing about my father today is an effort to preserve my memory of him and to ensure those memories can be shared. Keeping alive his memory seems somehow so important.
My father was hugely intelligent and creative, full of energy and movement, quick-witted, funny, kind and well-mannered. He was a traditionalist ……. He could draw, paint, write verse, both comical and profound. An engineer by trade, he built a successful small company with friends and colleagues. He could speak French [well] and dabbled in Spanish and German. He loved words and explored their origins and interpretations. He introduced me to crossword puzzles and to this day I attempt the Glasgow Herald crossword 3 or 4 times a week via the internet. He disliked bad grammar, and. if ever in the room when 'Star Trek' came on television, he would cringe as the voice-over announced 'to boldly go', 'Have they never heard of the split infinitve?' he would exclaim. I have inherited this dislike of the split infinitve from my father, I too cringe as reporters on American TV/ radio cheerily spout, 'to really try', 'to seriously address' and, horror of horrors, 'to hopefully achieve'

Evidence of my father is everywhere in the garden and house, from playhouse to pond for us, to garage and pergola for them, -from below floors to rooftop and everything in between - in every room he left his mark. Evenings after supper would find him singing Gilbert and Sullivan at the kitchen sink or tinkering around at his work bench with any one of numerous clocks in various stages of repair.

In 1983 he was in a bad car accident in which, among other things, he sustained a severe knock on the head and injury to his brain---- life was never quite the same, he could be sarcastic and argumentative in ways we had never experienced, unpredictable and even bad- tempered which was completely out of character for him. Yet much of the time he was the father we loved and respected. Most difficult for us all was the almost total loss of hearing that he sustained -only those who have lived with deafness and its consequences can fully appreciate its effect, conversation loses its spontaneity, jokes lose their punch line, certain forms of entertainment are no longer enjoyed and frustration increases, for both speaker and listener as words have to be repeated time and time again. His eyesight was also damaged as the movement of one eye was curtailed resulting in loss of some peripheral vision and tunnel vision, [this was reduced by an operation on the undamaged eye]. In spite of this he continued to grow his fledgling business into the respected company it remains today.

My father's death has changed me forever, in ways I am not yet able to articulate well. I am sad that the man who enjoyed life so fully and so well is no longer around to enjoy this world. --- I feel an increasing urgency to live my life better and more fully as he did.

I am choosing to believe that our last Christmas together was divinely orchestrated and I am infinitely grateful that all of us chose to listen to the guidance of that still small voice within. I also choose to believe that my father is in heaven, even though I am not sure what heaven is. But whatever it is, I am sure that before entered through the Pearly Gates my father first checked the gate hinges for squeaks and greased them as needed, and then made sure all the men in the line were in collar and tie and all the women were wearing skirts.

LOUISE Roanoke.Virginia USA
March 2005

For information:

I have the full service sheet from Diana and the readings chosen for the service

The family picture was taken in the garden at Carrick Drive has Allan, Louise, Valerie, Diana and Nicol.

This poem was written by Allan and read at his funeral service. It reflects the way that loss of hearing following the car accident had has such a profound effect on his life.

0' the ills 0' the world, I will tell ye just some,
For tae gie ye a taste 0' the nonsense tae come.
If ye lose baith yer legs, Ye can go on the bum!

If ye'e lost baith yer een, Then there's nocht tae be seen
If ye've lost baith yer airms, Nae mair nursin' 0' bairns
If they cut aff yer heid, Then ye're bluidy-well deid

But the worst thing of a' 's when ye're deef in the lugs
Wi' yer "Sorry?", and "Pardon?" and "Whit's that?" and "Eh?"
A' yer freends think that you think they're talkin' like mugs!

If ye're deef as a cloot, An, ye canna' converse
Ye'd as weel gae back hame an' sit doon on yer erse
An' scratch we' a pincil at wee bits of verse!

A.S.C.

Mike M-Rogerson