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Gracie Carver from Norwich wrote on August 28, 2017 at 2:45 pm:
I met Colin nearly 10 years ago. He was the voice on the other end of the phone at 11pm, 2am and 4am in the morning. When I finally met Colin, he embraced me and welcomed me warmly into his home, as he had done with my husband many years before.

His generosity was limitless, and when our son was born, Colin became an unofficial Uncle who doted on him.

I've met only a few people who had lives to envy, of endless tales and adventures which were always compelling no matter how many times you heard them.

What I miss the most though, is the love he showed my family. His warmth held no bounds and his passing has left a great void in our lives.
Stephen Carver from Norwich wrote on August 28, 2017 at 2:17 pm:
I met Colin in the late-80s, when we were both students on the Access course in arts and social sciences at Norwich City College. I was young and confused and trying to make something of my mis-spent youth. I think he recognised a bit of his younger self in me, as another working class rebel in search of knowledge and a better life. I looked up to him, and particularly admired his Zen Master levels of calm and positivity. We went to university together and studied literature and philosophy. He was a terrible name dropper in seminars, and it was a joy to see the look on a lecturerโ€™s face when he mentioned a conversation heโ€™d had with Bertrand Russell, or begin an anecdote with something like, โ€˜As Sartre once said to meโ€ฆโ€™

Like many of his friends, he helped me when I was down. I remember a particularly miserable period many years ago: my father had just died, Iโ€™d just come back from working in Asia, I didnโ€™t have a job and Iโ€™d split with my girlfriend. Colin took me to France and after a week with him and his friends I was in a much better position to face the world again. And thatโ€™s what he was always like. Colin was very supportive of what became my academic career as well, and would ring me at any hour of the day or night to discuss English literature. Those long calls would drive me crazy some nights, but right now Iโ€™d give anything to hear his voice again.

I think about him every day, and can hear his voice in these poems.