While some of us knew Allen as ‘Big Al’, his closer friends affectionately nick-named him ‘Chubba’, and sometimes "Captain", but to most, he was known simply as ‘Al’.
When you met Al, the first thing you would notice about him was his physical size. Al was for the best part of his life, a large lad, with a generous and robust frame; a loveable round face with warm brown eyes and a beaming smile. But Al was far larger than just his size and that is why to me, he will always be remembered as ‘Big Al’. Spending a few minutes with this gentle giant, his ‘larger than life’ character came to blossom. His kindness, generosity, warmth, love and good humour would bring about a smile from just about anyone.
Al’s zest for getting the most of life was undeniable. At every given opportunity: every gathering, every party and social event, at sporting occasions and music events, Al was always keen to be part of the action. The word “party” for Al was like waving a red rag to a bull. Sometimes an invitation wasn’t necessary! In fact, it didn’t even have to be a party, it would be fair to say, wherever there was any social gathering with friends, Al was there, even if Manchester United were playing.
A true bon-viveur, Al’s quests to seek out a good time were legendary, to the point that he’d fly half way around the globe, meeting friends, making new ones and creating unforgettable memories. Al’s friends are scattered all over the globe, from the UK to Portugal, Germany to USA, from Spain to the Carribean, from France to Estonia.
He was a gourmet, a connoisseur of wines and fine cigars but of all his passions and loves, perhaps his greatest was his love for golf.
When I met Al back in the early nineties, he was working at Davidoff’s, London’s famous tobacconist and cigar specialist in St. James St. As it turns out, Davidoff’s is run by one of Al’s relatives, which I recall talking to him about at a drinks party. As our conversation swung to the subject of golf, it was only then that his eyes fully lit up and I had his complete attention. In our then far from sober state of mind, we agreed to play the following morning at 7am. Sure enough, the following morning, Al was waiting in his car, dressed for the part with all the gizmos and golfing paraphernalia you could imagine. Somehow even then, looking at Al on that overcast and grey London morning, even with a savage and not uncommon hang-over, I knew that this guy and I were going to be great friends.
That was nearly twenty years ago. I know that someday we will meet again, on that great golf course in the sky, where he’ll probably beat me, as he usually did.
I am going to miss you my dear friend but I will never forget you.
Sasha
Al is succeeded by his mother Tamara and a world of friends.
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If you would like to share your photos, messages and stories to
better remember our very dear friend, please send them to Sasha at:
sashpan@gmail.com
Thank you |