RIP, the ‘everywhere man’

Eleven months ago I mentioned that an old school friend had died.

I hadn’t seen ‘Sticks’ for 30 years but we were friends on Facebook and frequently ‘liked’ one another’s posts, and I enjoyed having that connection, small though it was.

I felt the same about another school friend with whom I interacted occasionally, also on Facebook. This morning, sadly, a message posted by his family read:

It is with great sadness that we share the passing of our dear and wonderful Colin, who left us peacefully today, surrounded by love … He left this world content and surrounded by those he loved most. His spirit, humour, and gentle heart will be remembered always.

Colin Campbell was in the year below me at Madras College in St Andrews. I can’t remember when our paths first crossed, but it was probably in 1974 when we were cast in the school play, Shakespeare’s Taming of the Shrew.

The following year (1975) we performed in Charlie’s Aunt (above), a farce by Brandon Thomas, so when Colin followed me (not literally!) to Aberdeen University in 1977, we knew each other reasonably well.

Like me, he took a two-week seed potato inspection course at Elmwood College in Cupar, Fife (for a lucrative summer job), and in August 1978 we spent a week in Edinburgh during the Festival where we stayed in a basement flat owned by the father of another friend.

After I left university and moved to London we gradually lost contact. Decades later, however, after we became Facebook friends, I worked out he had moved abroad, initially to the United States, before settling eventually in Australia.

I’ve no idea what his occupation was but, according to one Facebook post, he had lived or worked in over 30 different countries, hence his description of himself as an ‘everywhere man’. Adelaide, he said, was the ‘nicest place’ he had lived and he became an Australian citizen.

Despite that, Colin never forgot his Scottish roots. Like many ex-pats, he was immensely, almost excessively, proud of his heritage, to the extent that there was more than a hint of Scottish nationalism in some of his posts, something I once teased him about (given that he didn’t actually live in Scotland!).

Ultimately, he was one of the most endearingly eccentric people I have ever known (even at school), a genuine one-off who followed his own path. He leaves a partner, Nada, two children, and – judging by the comments on Facebook – many friends.

RIP, Colin. I’m so glad you ‘left this world content and surrounded by those [you] loved most’. What a lovely way to go.

See also: Thanks for the memories, Sticks

Above: Colin (far right) in Charlie’s Aunt, 1975; photo from the Madras College archive.

Below: in 2022 (via Facebook).