Little Jim

Almost two years ago, on July 1st, 2002, a very good friend of mine passed away.

Jim Collins was an exceptional man who had an extraordinary life. Born in 1920 in post war Britain, he grew up in a time of hardship and depression and started work, to support his family, at a very early age. In the 1940s, Jim served his country with the Dorset Regiment in Germany, in the process learning to speak fluent German.

His aerospace career spanned the globe and almost half a century. He was tempted by the lucrative salaries of the Boeing Corporation in the 1960s, subsequently moving to Renton, Washington. Jim commented that, at the time he was earning more than Harold Wilson, the Prime Minister of Britain.

In the early 1970s, he did something we all wish we could do, he essentially stepped out of the rat race, moved back to England and became a dairy farmer.

Although not a simple man, Jim loved that simple life, he’d often wax lyrical about those years on the farm in the south of England with his family. Long days tinkering on tractors or farm implements and the reward of fixing a gate or a fence. Early mornings spent tending to the cows and cozy sessions in the kitchen on cold or rainy days with a roaring fire in the oven, a cup of fresh tea and a slice of freshly buttered toast.

Jim returned to the USA in 1979 to work at McDonnell Douglas in Long Beach (six years before I was to arrive there). A few years later he moved to Canada and in 1986, just before I emigrated to Canada, I was shocked by a gruff sounding individual at the other end of the phone line, my "first contact" with Jim Collins, Stress Office manager at my new company.

Jim’s philosophy was that too often in life people ignore the simple pleasures, He knew all too well “what was what” and that the important things were often overlooked, he loved his family, good food, the occasional cold beer, fresh crusty bread and a fine cheese. He loved settling down on the sofa, in front of the fire, with his pipe and a classic book, a sleeping dog at his feet. He also loved causing trouble, being mischievous and telling it like it is, you knew he was up to something just by that glint in his boyish eyes.

Jim was a multitude of things in this life, a good father, grand-father, farmer, soldier, comedian, ham radio buff and model steam train constructor to name but a few. With his vast knowledge of life he was a constant source of thought provoking, risqué and often highly amusing anecdotes that spanned his long and happy life.

He may have been almost 40 years older than me, but we were good mates and we had a good laugh.

I miss you, you old bugger!