Alan Green

Post date: 28-May-2020 08:57:27

Alan Green (1947-2018) was a great character and friend from the 1960s onwards.

He was younger than my year at school, but shall we say precocious! He was smart, adventurous and a lot of fun!

In 1962 Tony Barnett and I hitchhiked down to Barcelona on the way to Tangier. We were 17 so I guess Alan was only 15. Anyway who should we bump into but Alan at the central railways station. He was his usual enthusiastic self and we found out that he was shacked up nearby with a pretty young gypsy girl who was standing there with him. Tony and I were still both virgins at that stage, so we were green with envy. Alan came back almost fluent in Spanish!

Alan was one of a bunch of mates at and from William Ellis school. Our merry band included Alan Green, Steve Moss, Alan Shoobridge, Peter Sayers, Tony Barnett, Phil Howe, Dave Stevens, Pete Rasini and Paul Ernest (me). We had other really good mates mentioned on these pages from the Witches, from the political protest movements and from other places but we were a little band of chums. There were also other friends from William Ellis but not in this little central band of chums. Most of us were born 1944/45 and were in the same school year that finished in 1963 after two years in the 6th form, as the two years studying for GCE 'A' level were called. But two or three were younger, either propelled ahead in the 'Remove' classes like Steve Moss and Dave Stevens, and some were just downright precocious like Alan Green.

Alan didn't enjoy William Ellis, and it put him off education, so while he was smart and learned he was self-taught. His father, who he really looked up to, was another autodidact, but a great collector and consumer of books, like Alan.

Alan lived in Oppidans Road, near Chalk Farm. His father ran a second hand or remaindered nuts and bolts and other fastenings business. In the mid-60s Alan's father decided to move his business and the family down to the South Coast, between Brighton, Hove and Worthing. The whole family moved there. Alan had a large green Mercedes which he picked up for a song. He would drive up to London or sometimes we went down Brighton way to see him. Alan began to work for his father, which became working with his father, until he took over the whole business himself and managed it. He moved the business up-market and only supplied the best in fastenings, rather than the cheapest old stuff going, but made immediate delivery (what they now call Just In Time) his USP, and the business flourished.

Alan on his bike early 70s

Around 1971 he married his partner Kristel and they were a lovely couple for a decade or so, Jill and I were the two witnesses at their wedding in Brighton, and they both attended our wedding in 1972. In the 1980s that relationship ended and then he found Cathy who was his wonderful and at times long suffering partner for the rest of his life. You could see she made him glow with love and life zest!

Christel and Alan, bottom of picture France early 70s

Alan and Cathy in 2005

He collected antiques, coins, wines, books and loads of stuff from men's watches via Japanese Netsuke to Tibetan Thangkas. (He also collected friends.) He built a second kitchen on their house and covered the walls with wood from fancy wine boxes from Margaux, Lefitte, Rothschild, Veuve-Cliquot, etc., just as he had covered the walls of his loo with wine bottle labels, when you could still get them off the bottle by soaking in water. Needless to say he had personally emptied the boxes of the contents and the bottles whose labels he displayed, well, him and his friends. We used to joke that he was buying wine faster than he could drink it and sadly it was true. When he died unexpectedly (after carrying in a box of vintage Champagne from his car) he must have left 5000 bottles unopened!

Cathy Holmes, Alan's beautiful partner in life for 40 years

He was a real wine buff and expert. He was admitted into a fancy French brotherhood of wine, made a Chevalier du Vin in some prestigious Appellation Controllee region. He visited so many chateaux and winemakers throughout Europe, but especially in France. The best white wine I have ever drunk was a white Burgundy he shared with us. I don't know the marque or year, and in general I can't be bothered with white, but this was truly nectar. For Jill's birthday he cracked open a 1985 vintage bottle the Veuve-Cliquot Champagne "La Grande Dame". I have never tasted anything like it, again heaven.

Despite his great expertise and experience he was never a wine snob, and always enjoyed tasting something new, even if it was only £5 a bottle. Lucky for me, that's about my price range! He loved wine and ocasionally had a bit too much, as everybody does, but he never had a drink problem. He was invited as a wine expert to go on cruises where he gave a few lectures and wine tastings in exchange for a free holiday for him and Cathy in the Caribbean or somewhere nice. He only did it a couple of times because he said that with all the free gourmet food he put on a few kilos every trip!

Alan with Annette and Susie in the background at Jills 60th party 2008

He was also a great cook, and cooking would send him into the 'zone', a magic state of flow. He would serve you a 6 course dinner effortlessly, opening a new wine with each course to match it! I recall a plate of raw peas straight out of the pod. I don't know what came with them but they were delicious! And then on to the oysters, razor clams, lobster, local game, locally sourced meat, and so on.

He was a good friend and a good man. He never got up himself nor lived too much 'in his head', as some of us do! His funeral wake was crowded with friends from every walk of life, from the most exalted to the most humble. He judged people by what they were, what they could offer as human beings in terms of life, love and laughter, and never by their social station. He was probably the most generous man I have ever met, helping out loads of people, just because they needed it and because he could. We'll never know the full extent of his generousity. He didn't talk about it.

Cathy and Alan at his Birthday lunch which Jill and I celebrated with them, in March 2011 at the 2* Gidleigh Park Hotel, Dartmoor. Alan is reading the 100 page wine list which he took with him as great and exciting bedtime reading. Alan shared a long discussion with the sommelier about the chateaux and wine producers they both knew personally - not pretentious - just two experts - such as vintage car enthusiasts - chatting about their shared love!

Before this turns into another eulogy I must add that he could also be a stubborn and argumentative know-it-all, and could argue all evening, even going so far as telling learned professors (like me) that we had got it all wrong! In fact I have on my wall a certificate of baloney. bosh and bunkum he awarded my for my intellectual endeavours. I'm still not sure whether to laugh or be insulted! His know-it-all-ness may have hastened his demise, because although he had a heart condition, he refused to take the prescribed medecine.

He had a unique dress sense or should I say style, as there wasn't much sense in it. He wore bright and extravagent shirts (well I can talk). His favourite outdoor wear was a comfortable but creased leather coat and a leather hat. Coupled with his longish hair and untidy grey beard, this made him look a bit 'pikey'. He was a unique character, definitely his 'own man' and he is greatly missed by all!

He was the life and soul of the party; he lived life extravagently but not profligately! He lived hugely but not over the top! He uncorked the bottle and drank life's sweet wine - and shared it with Cathy and all his friends!

At his joint birthday party with Cathy in 2017, with 100 of their nearest and dearest present, Alan holds a Methuselah (8 bottles) of vintage Champagne, while on the table sits a Melchior (24 bottles) of vintage Rioja, which needed a pump to serve it! Needless to say the bottles were emptied!

Eulogy for Alan Green by Steve Moss

We were the same age, from the same background, went to the same school and had the same group of friends, several here today, some 60 years on. We never lost touch. Alan has always been, and will always remain, quintessentially one of us.

I will tell you now what I remember of him as adolescent, teenager and young adult for we were like twins in those days. Later I lived abroad but we caught up every few years. The traits and strengths he had as a young man never faded but got more profound. It was like watching him become more and more himself. He was on one long journey towards becoming Alan.

We were lucky enough to have been born into the peace that followed two world wars. Our parents had had enough of dictators and conflict. They hoped that everybody might now get on without tyrants and systems of privilege. They wanted equality, a welfare system, a national Health Service and basic social security. Alan grew up with that and it shaped him.

We were 13 when we first met at William Ellis Grammar School in North London. It had been a bastion of tradition, coercion, punishment (and perhaps a little learning). But by 1960 the bad stuff was beginning to fall away. Rebels like Alan were part of that. It was a time of Independence and freedom and he was the cutting edge. He was an original thinker, marching to his own drum. He wanted a world validated by his own experience. Nobody was going to force him to accept anything else. No teacher, minister or daft old twat lamenting the passing of the British Empire. William Ellis just never stood a chance. He left as soon as the law permitted, 15 in those days, and never looked back.

Today there is scorn for free-thinkers and those who value social justice. We are back to a place where they call such people ‘bleeding hearts’. Well Alan believed that being a bleeding heart is much better than having no heart and that compassion is not weakness but the social motherlode. He was on the side of the underprivileged, the exploited and the poor, but really he was on the side of not taking sides at all. He was against conflict and an antidote for hate. He knew that fear is a powerful tool and that people who deliberately use it are dangerous.

He saw deeply into things. He could see cause and consequence more clearly than most. He could escape mental traps and habits that entangle many of us. And he was untouched by any kind of elitism. He could talk with anybody from anywhere because he believed that we are all the same. He despised any form of racism or discrimination.

There was an urgency to his mind, sometimes an impatience with those unable to catch on, but always mixed with a sincere desire to haul them up to some better place. At the same time, although he was every bit an intellectual, he felt that concepts are just puffs of air. That what really matters is not what we think, nor what we say or profess to be, but what we do.

He instinctively grasped politics, science, art, philosophy and psychology. He never went back to school nor to university, but he taught himself and pushed himself and somehow ended up knowing much more about these things than many scholars. He would devour books of all kinds, magazines and newspapers, to get to the bottom of everything. He was as hard on himself as he was with woolly thinkers and fools, and woe betide any hypocrite who happened across his path.

He was a truth hunter, suspicious of conventional wisdom. We were always discussing religion and politics, talking through the night until the sun came up - then going out into the streets to talk some more. To Alan, discussion was almost an art form.

It was a time for self exploration. At 13 when the rest of us were scarcely out of short pants he hitch-hiked alone across Europe, mixing with everyone he met. He was inquisitive and fearless and while most our age followed their peers, he preferred to find his own way. For several years he lived on the edge, experimenting with everything and even coming came close to death once or twice. But he was strong and quick to learn and he survived.

He also had courage. Some of our teachers were bullies. Unlike the rest of us, who submitted and mainly did what we were told, Alan was fearless. He knew that bullies suffer from the same fear they threaten, and simply melt away if you can find the courage to face them down. He was a bully's worst nightmare, whether in the playground or in the classroom, and he became the hero of many a timid schoolboy.

He would not take much advice nor seek favour, but trusted his own judgement and his own good instincts. He had little tolerance for self pity and abhorred negative thinking. He always wanted to get on with things. With the help of his friendly and ever tolerant father, Alan took over and later expanded the family business. He was a great judge of character and could see a con man coming a mile off. He turned out to be a natural businessman who others would come to for advice.

I think of him as a kind of sage. He certainly looked the part in later years, thoughtfully stroking the long beard. But those who really knew him saw the sage in those crinkly eyes long before they noticed the beard. It was something about the way he questioned everything and refused to follow conventional thinking.

One gets a flavour of how he was from the story about the poor farmers and the wise old man who lived outside their village. The farmers would run to the sage in panic when the rains came, worrying about floods. “It's going to be very bad, isn't it” they would cry. He would stroke the beard and say “maybe”. Then they would run to him in panic when the rains stopped and they worried about drought and cry “ it's going to be very bad, isn't it” He would stroke the beard and say, “maybe”. Then they would run to him when there was no flood and no drought so they feared the Gods must be setting them up for some other disaster and say, “It's going to be very bad isn't it?”. And the sage would ….well you know. The point is that like the sage, Alan could see behind worries and fears. He realized that fears about the future are often pointless and that we can change it if we really want to.

He believed in helping, whenever he could. He was generous, tolerant and compassionate. These are all great qualities, and he had them in spades. But there is one other quality which is more important and more powerful than all the others combined and that, of course, is love. And that is what he was really about and that is what the people who really knew him saw in him.

And that is why he fell head over heels for Cathy who is love incarnate and became his lifelong partner and the centre of his world. As a couple, they were source of great strength for their many friends. Cathy will surely suffer from this loss. But she is a strong lady and will survive through her great love for all things and all people.

For she and Alan shared a secret about love. That it's not simply about being nice to those who are easy to live with….one’s amiable neighbours, for instance...but it is also about finding the good in the real sons of bitches that most of us secretly prefer to hate. And the challenge is to take on those crippling inner feelings of distrust, suspicion and paranoia in order to see the best in those who can trigger the worst. And that is what Alan strove for and what Cathy helped him find and why she will always love him, wherever he now travels.

And because Alan had this gift, the rest of us now have a big void in our stomachs and a pain in our hearts. He was a good guy. The kind we need so much in this world that is again in trouble.

A few days before he died I spoke with him about what is happening in the world today. Through his life Alan had been the perennial optimist but this time not so much. He felt something was coming, given all the lies and liars and fear mongering. He said that the consolation prize was that we would probably not live to see it.

On June 23 2016, the UK split into those for Brexit and those against. The poem most quoted on the internet on that day goes like this:

Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;

Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,..

Now it's two years on and the hate just seems to grow, not just here, but across in Europe and over the pond.

And that same poem ends like this:

The darkness drops again but now I know

That twenty centuries of stony sleep

Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,

And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,

Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?”

W. B. Yeats wrote that in 1919. It was the end of one war, and as we later found out, the start of another. And now it seems like a very Rough Beast indeed controls Washington DC and even the world.

But then I think of that core message of that old sage Alan and I think about the farmers and the rest of us worrying about what's coming….. and I hear Alan in my mind calling to me with all his familiar strength and urgency and innate optimism..and I hear his resounding and ever so slightly ascerbic...

Alan was my best friend, my inspiration, my touchstone. He was how I tested what's real and what's not and how I calmed my fears and gained faith in what can yet still be. He was part of the tolerance and heart that sustains this world. He was a giant among us, a true human for our times. We will all miss him forever.