Tall Stories

I met Jim last summer when Mark and I interviewed him. He had just broken his thumb and was wearing a sling. Despite his handicap he bowled us over. Usually we ask applicants to come back and give a presentation on some tricky technical subject. We couldn’t fit it in that week and knew he had other interviews lined up. I ended up ‘phoning him and saying, never mind the second stage, we really like you and want to offer you a job. It was a great decision although only sealed after we had all taken him for lunch and he had given us all his approval!

Not long after the interview and still a few months before he started work, he came to my house for our annual firm barbeque. I will never forget the heavens opening and Jim, being far and away the tallest, rigging up some oil skin table cloths over a pergola in true comic style. He only conceded defeat and moved indoors after posing with some rather fetching hanging baskets for the camera. Goodness, that’s another thing; he had such a thing about split infinitives! Made his blood boil.

Anyway, Stuart Hodge being a family firm, the whole family was there at that barbeque. My daughters listened open mouthed to the newcomer’s tales of “Uncle Sidney”. Many other tales were told (although I shielded their ears to Uncle Vernon) before Jim dashed off because he was flying off on holiday early the next day. Typically he was living life to the full.

Needless to say he had left an indelible impression on us all, especially my youngest daughter, Alice. She wanted to know exactly when Jim was starting work. The night before, in true Blue Peter style, she found a pair of tights which she cut down, stuffed with cotton wool and knotted. She drew on a face and incarcerated the foetus in a jam jar. She then pleaded with me to leave it on Jim’s desk. Not only did he recognize this crude “Uncle Sidney” immediately; he was thrilled to make his acquaintance having searched for him all through his childhood, by his account. The next day he told me he had spent the evening with his Granddad roaring with laughter about it.

And all that before he had even joined us properly. Imagine him then the life and soul of our office; the banter; breaking in to song; constantly making a cuppa and regaling us with stories, so much so that I keep hearing his voice in my head. I miss him enormously and my sincere condolences go to his family, whom he mentioned constantly, and his friends.

Posted on behalf of Emma Barrett, Stuart Hodge