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I first met John 20 years ago. Our
wives worked together and so we were introduced. He stood 6'5" tall,
bearded, a gentle giant.
I was fascinated by the depth of his knowledge of all things militaria -
uniforms, weapons, people places. He made perfect scale models of
soldiers, of which I am the proud owner of many (more of that later). He
was a regular at re-enactments, a first rate swordsman and leader.
It was at such an event that he met his wife Dee. The story goes that
when Dee first saw John he was in a tent, a pretty woman under each arm
and a big grin on his face. Dee took one look and decided here was the
man she wanted. The rest is history.
We lost touch briefly as our lives took us to different places. Then one
day in April 1993 I started a new job, and who was there to greet me
with a warm hug and kiss but Dee. She told me that since we last met
John's health had deteriorated and so he had cut down on the
re-enactments and was concentrating on archery. I expressed an interest
and so it was that John took me along to Frankley Bowmen. He lent me a
longbow and a handful of arrows and said "Try this".
And so began a friendship and mutual love of archery that was to last
for the next 15 years. Over the years we travelled to many shoots and
championships. Mind you, I always had to allow him plenty of time when
picking him up because there was always time for another cuppa.
He was passionate about his archery. He had a huge collection of bows;
compound, longbow, recurve and various styles in between. He was my
teacher in all matters archery, including how to explain to my 'missus'
that whenever I bought a new bow, it was because "John said it was a
bargain"!
We shared many conversations, sharing the ups and downs of life. I
learned how patient and tolerant he was in everything he did, be that
with new archers, a teenage son, or an elderly mother. He was always the
same.
I admired his determination not to let failing health beat him, even if
this meant sitting on a log at lunchtime with a sarnie in one hand and a
syringe of morphine in the other. He blamed only himself for his health.
He said he had lived and played hard and boy, had he enjoyed himself!
He concentrated more on making his models in the latter years. The last
one he made for me was called the Missing Arrow. The arrow was pinning
up the skirt of a buxom young lady! He said that he would paint some
knickers on her if my wife didn't approve! Sadly he died before it
became an issue.He's gone now to join Malcolm in the great woods in the
sky, no doubt in charge of the registration whilst Malcolm lays a
course. He leaves behind his widow Dee, and son Alex, both of whom he
loved so much. My thoughts and care rest with them and we shall remain
friends.
One final word: Big John has passed much of himself to his son Alex,
both in his ways and his interests and so he will live on.
Keith Mason |