Alan Broadbent (1944 - 1999)

Monday 8 February 1999 at 4.30 pm - Chilterns Crematorium, Amersham

Hotel California, The Eagles

Introduction: David Pearson

The Tempest:, W Shakespeare

We meet here today to pay tribute, to mark the passing, to honour the character, and to celebrate the life of Alan Broadbent, a man with definite ethics and principles of living. I am David Pearson, a member of the British Humanist Association, and I am also a member of the Computer Science at the University of Hertfordshire. I have been asked to officiate at a secular ceremony, but those of you with a faith will have an opportunity to make your own private prayer, and I trust that you will find this has been a dignified and respectful event.

In a moment I shall read some thoughts about life and death in general, followed by tributes from several colleagues and friends and also something of Alan's life. We shall then spend a few minutes in quiet reflection when you may recall your own memories of Alan or offer prayers as you wish. Iain Liddell will then read and we shall say together the words on the sheets you have in front of you. After that I shall say something in conclusion.

You are asked to take your leave of Alan by acknowledging the coffin on your way to the exit, while more of Alan's favourite music is played. Close family and friends will lead, then those of you in the balcony, followed by everyone downstairs.

More than a few of you have travelled a long way to be here today, and we are very grateful for the efforts you have made. Others cannot be present, but they are thinking of us so let us remember them too. Thanks are also due to Iain and Mary Liddell, and to Norman Bonney, for the special support they have given Beryl-Anne at this impossibly difficult time.

At the outset it is important to acknowledge that, if we are truthful, there are no words that can encompass our feelings just now. As we progress through life, we come to expect death in various ways. Though we understand about old age, learning about illnesses that have afflicted society for years, nevertheless, when someone close to us passes away, it still comes as a shock. Every one of us is mortal - you and me - each one of us will in due course pass away. It is natural that you are sad today because, in a practical sense Alan is no longer part of your lives. It is natural that you are sad today because someone so important to you has passed away so young. But to live a good and fulfilling life, one that has touched so many other lives, is something to be truly thankful for.

John Donne, in the early seventeenth century, wrote:

Professor Martin Cave, representing the Vice-Chancellor of Brunel University would now like to speak:

Martin Cave

The Vice-Chancellor would have liked to be here to honour the contribution which Alan Broadbent has made to the University, but unfortunately he cannot join us here this afternoon. Instead he has asked me to speak in his place, and I am glad to do so because over the past few years I have become more and more aware of what Alan has done for our collective well-being.

He came to Brunel in 1984 as head of Computer Services, from Cardiff where he had been in the deputy's role: in computing terms, and even in university terms, 1984 was an aeon ago. We then had about 3000 students on two campuses, and the university's rather limited computing needs were met by mainframes. But Alan was very forward-looking. At the first meeting of the Academic Services committee, which then distributed the very limited amounts of capital investment between the Library and the Computer Centre, he looked forward to the day when libraries and computing services would become more integrated. And in the computing world he recognised that the days of the mainframe were coming to an end. Under his direction Brunel was one of the first universities to provide a modern distributed network. And how we needed that foresight and vision. Brunel is now four times as big in student numbers as it was in 1984. Our information services now have 21,000 users and 3,000 or so networked PCs.

None of these huge changes could have been put through without foresight and leadership, and Alan provided both. In recognition of that, there are fifty or more colleagues from Brunel here today. I have been much struck by how much his colleagues appreciated his management style, which was based on devolution and teamwork. Because Alan expected the best of people, he was often able to bring it out. He could also be disarmingly but pleasantly frank when he needed to. Judging from his accent, I had always put this down to a Yorkshire upbringing but I now understand that the accent, and possibly the frankness, came from his father.

As I mentioned earlier, I have had quite a lot to do with Alan over the past few years, and benefited from his no-nonsense approach to work in the committees on which we both sat. For much of 1998 he stepped into the breach as acting Director of Information Services, and performed that role very effectively. We knew at that time that he was battling with the illness which finally defeated him, but he dealt with that problem without complaint.

I was not at all surprised to learn from last week's Computing Service Message of the Day that his last hours were devoted in part to concerns for his Brunel staff and his Brunel users. Over the past few days the thoughts of all of us at Brunel have gone to Beryl-Anne, his close colleague, partner and wife. I hope that she can take comfort from the affection and admiration in which Alan was held by his colleagues at the university.

David Pearson

I never knew Alan, but when I met Beryl-Anne, Iain and Norman the other day, I learned of an articulate, intelligent, and rational man; one who was always ready to exert his calming influence in any difficult situation.

Born in Worcester, the son of a Yorkshireman, he spent much of his early life in Wales where his father's job took the family. However, he never picked up a Welsh accent, even though he remained there for his studies in Mathematics at Cardiff University where he obtained his first class honours degree. He then began research for a PhD in Physics, but this turned out not to be what Alan really wanted to do. He joined Cardiff University's Computing Service, becoming its Deputy Director. This was an unusual appointment at the time, because in the early 1980s such positions were normally filled from the ranks of computer scientists.

Fifteen years ago he became Director of the Computing Service at Brunel. Under his leadership the university, as you have heard, became one of the first to switch from a central mainframe to a system of distributed workstations and servers. He was insistent that his computing service was for his users; his staff moulded their practices to their users' needs. One of them told me, We never reached a plateau of complacency in what we strove to achieve under Alan's inspiration. He was always ready to give his staff their head; he trusted them to be his representatives. He empowered them, and they responded well to that trust. Alan became an important figure nationally as Chairman of the Universities and Colleges Information Systems Association.

Although his work was an important part of his life, he did not allow it to diminish his devotion to his children, for whom he made great sacrifices, not only financial, over the years. You probably know of his encyclopaedic knowledge of pop music from the sixties, seventies and early eighties; he seemed to know the words of every pop song produced. Alan never wanted to become a gardener, but he did like woodland walking, and in Squirrels Close he took over the lawn, straightening the edges and introducing a certain symmetry. Neither did he like being photographed, but Beryl-Anne would creep up on him, and every picture was one of him contemplating plants.#

It was in 1996 that Alan became engaged to, and later married, Beryl-Anne Thompson, the university's Librarian, so cementing a long-standing personal and professional relationship. Her unstinting care and support carried him through his illness, and he died peacefully on 30 January, fifteen years to the day since he arrived at Brunel to take up his directorship.

We shall now hear a few of the many tributes that have been made to Alan over recent days. One person wrote

Jane Gawthrope would like to speak.

Jane Gawthrope

I didn't know Alan well, but was always aware of him as a decent man, by which I mean someone who is straight and honest and without malice. The advice he gave me on the occasions I sought it, was always intelligent and utterly trustworthy, a rare commodity in universities!

I think the closest I came to know Alan was in a spirit of team camaraderie at a quiz evening organised by one of Iain Liddell's societies. Our team's victory was almost entirely due to Alan's outstanding general knowledge (helped along by a few lucky guesses from me and others). I remember being impressed by how much he knew about so many things, suggesting a man of much greater breadth than is revealed in professional activities. I am sure that Brunel will echo his presence for a long time because of the respect in which he was, and will continue to be, held by many people like myself.

David Pearson

Norman Bonney, Alan's Deputy, will now read what Beryl-Anne has written.

Norman Bonney

Life exists in the time span between birth and death. For those of us who, like Alan, believe that death brings the end of individual existence, life's significance lies in the experiences and satisfactions we achieve in that span of time, in the life we give to our children, and in the ways we touch and shape the lives of others.

People will say that Alan fought bravely against his cancer. I want to tell you that this is not so. He applied the same rigorous mathematician's logic to his own condition as he did to the rest of the world. He put up with considerable pain and discomfort for a short initial period in order to achieve the good quality remission which he enjoyed last year. In the New Year, realising that a prolonged period of treatment would cost him his Computing Service Directorship, and that death was in any case inevitable, he calmly and logically chose a quick cessation.

This is not to say that Alan wanted to die, for the flame of desire for life still flickered within him. He had sampled the best things in life, and would have liked another fifteen years filled with the same joys and challenges. Since this was not to be, Alan preferred to die quickly, confident that he could leave his wife and colleagues to finish his unfinished tasks, and his sons to take his life into future generations. His courage lay in making rational choices and accepting their consequences.

Beryl-Anne Thompson

David Pearson

Jo Bonney, a friend of Rhodri and who happened to be Alan's last visitor, would now like to read a poem. Sometimes wrongly attributed to Thomas Gray, this poem was read at the funeral of Diana, Princess of Wales.

Jo Bonney

David Pearson

Yes, of course you are sad but, in a moment of quiet, recall your happy memories of Alan, or offer prayers as you wish. The music we shall hear is a Chopin nocturne played by Alan's favourite pianist, Evgeny Kissin.

Nocturne, Op 27 No. 2 (Frederic Chopin): Evgeny Kissin (piano)

Iain Liddell

A man has died.

When asked, "What did he die of?", say what he lived for.

When asked, "How old was he?", tell how he used his years.

When asked about his wife and family, celebrate how he loved them, nurtured them, inspired them, and lives on through them.

When asked about his job, say how he applied his talents for the good of all.

When asked, "Was he your boss?", tell how he was a leader.

When asked, "How many worked for him?", celebrate how he treated and trusted his staff and colleagues.

When asked, "Did he have a good send-off?", think of those from whom he is gone.

It's not what the words in the Newsletters say,
But how many will miss him now he's passed away.

Iain Liddell

David Pearson

To mark our formal parting from Alan will you join me in saying together the words by Steven Grellet on the sheets you have in front of you.

I shall pass through this world but once,
Any good thing that I can therefore do,
Or any kindness that I can show
To any fellow creature,
Let me do it now.
Let me not defer it,
Or neglect it,
For I shall not pass this way again.

We have been remembering with love and gratitude a life that has ended. Alan will be greatly missed and it is a sad day; but this has been a celebration of his life, and of how much he will always be cherished just for being him. Though he is no longer with us, the light of his life shines on in you. So return to your homes and to your work, resolved that those who live on will use their lives more fully and to better purpose for having known him, and for having shared in his being.

Perhaps these words, originally in Sanskrit, and whose author is unknown, provide us with a positive uplift.