It must have been 1971 when I first met John. He seemed so worldly at the time, but I've just realised that he was only 24. We bundled into a car after the pub to meet a guy who had just made a record. We lined up on the sofa to listen to it, while he captivated and entertained us. I can still remember the words and hear him singing on it. I had never met a Rock Star before. I didn’t realise then that he would become such a huge part of my family. There were to be many guitar sessions in smoke filled rooms well into the early hours. You could just turn up at John’s and you were always welcome. John turned up at my house one day to take me out for a drink. I was out so my Mother suggested my sister. My Dad was wary of John’s rock and roll lifestyle but was soon put at ease by his wit and banter and they gained a mutual respect for each other. John called him Sire. John had a sports car to go along with the image. It wasn’t easy being a gooseberry squashed on the back shelf of an MG Midget. The camping holiday in Cornwall was equally squashed as there were three of us in a two man tent. When Honky was born John was so proud, a more conventional car had to be sought along with a sensible name like Dylan or James, JC Jnr. When he worked at Chailey Heritage he loved the children and always the consummate performer, he told the children to put on their hats and gloves, “but we haven’t got any hands”, they would shout. He also used to go to London when most of us were tucked up in bed to help homeless people. I spent a lot of my late teens covering up for John’s indiscretions, but I remember John as someone who was not just witty but intelligent and charitable. John died too soon and I am sorry that I didn’t get to say goodbye.