I worked with Jon as a post-doc in the mid-1990s, back in the days
when he was a lecturer in Cambridge.
Those were the golden days. Jon’s entire lab consisted of just six people – three post-docs and three graduate students. Back then it was possible to spend the better part of an entire day talking to Jon about experiments or some exciting new data. One could even share a pint with him, one on one, to celebrate the acceptance of a paper.
I have two anecdotes that sum up my memories of Jon:
The first occurred on a September day in 1994. I arrived in Jon’s office for a meeting, and he immediately suggested we escape to the roof of the Craik-Marshall Building on the Downing Site. The stated motivation was to avoid interruptions from his office phone, but I suspect he really wanted to sit in the sunshine. Having recently arrived from a much warmer climate in Australia, I wasn’t going to argue. Over the next two hours we thrashed out ideas for experiments that were to form the basis of three years’ worth of research, and that effectively kick-started my career. Amongst his many talents, Jon was a great catalyst for ideas.
The second memory comes from the Attention and Performance meeting in Erice, Sicily, that I attended in the summer of 2002. Predictably, Alitalia had lost my suitcase, so for four days I had no clothes other than those in which I had arrived. When I told Jon this, he dragged me back to his hotel and insisted I take two pairs of his boxer shorts. At first I hesitated, but realising I had no other option I accepted, and for the next four days I minced around the conference in Jon’s slightly-too-tight underwear. Amongst his many personal qualities, Jon was generous to a fault.
After I returned to Australia we saw less of each other, but we always kept in touch and I counted him as a friend as well as a colleague.
My heartfelt condolences to Nilli and the boys. Jon, you will never be forgotten.
