I met Jon during my post-doc at the FIL. In fact, it seemed that he just stepped into my post-doc by chance. And this was the best chance I ever had. I remember the first interactions, the struggle to understand his English accent, the frustration of having him repeat things three times just to get the words through and of feeling I was slowing the discussions, and the rapid mutual taming during these exchanges. Jon was the brightest mind I ever met. He was among those people who were there, who went on accompanying me, staying in my mind, even in more recent times when we did not have the occasion of direct interactions. He was not only the brightest person, but he was also kind enough to make me feel I was worth exchanging ideas with. And he was supportive, in every stage of my career choices. I have a memory that I will always keep. I happened to have a job opportunity in France after just one year of post-doc; this meant a premature end to my London stay. That was a difficult choice and I got a hard time for it. When I went to Jon's office to let him know, I was feeling low and ashamed. And then, he just gently said something like "Isn't it a big achievement to get a tenured position in France?", and with his usual smile and sweet glint in the eyes he added wholeheartedly "Congratulations!". A few years later, he wrote the best letter of support I ever had for another job application. And whenever I would come back to London, he would ask me to pop into his office so that we could exchange news. Being considered by Jon was something that always felt like an amazement and an honour. Jon was not only the brightest, he was very kind and sympathetic, supportive and patient. I wish there was never such tragic news. It is a deep loss for science, and a personal loss for each of those who have had the luck to be infused by his ideas. The sorrow is tremendous. My deepest sympathy goes to Nilli and their children.
