I have many memories of John throughout my early life, from visiting his impressive workshop in the basement of John and Sally’s Georgetown house through to staying with John and Sally twice in Paris.  He also visited us often in Wimbledon on his way to various airshows and meetings.  John was always interesting and fun company, with stories of his travels and the curious people and things he has encountered as well as interesting diversions into engineering and technology dropped into the conversation.  I remember very vividly a visit to the Paris Sewers when staying with my family at their impressive apartment in the 7th in 1983.  It was typical of an excursion with John, starting with a short drive in his Peugeot to the river bank, with running commentary on the (now widespread) turbo diesel under the bonnet, wry observations about parking techniques and etiquette in Paris (apparently in order to get more cars parked by the side of the road, everyone left their hand brakes off and you could then gently shunt your way into a small space) John demonstrated this before leading us into the sewers where we had a guided tour.  It was typical of him that in such a sparkling city, the one attraction he insisted on us seeing was the solution to the problem of waste disposal.  It was fascinating, and I would recommend any visitor to the city to make the effort and to think of John while they are there.

John and I go back to 1961 when we were mechanical engineering graduate students together in the Faculty of Engineering at the University of Liverpool. My first memory of John was of his outgoing personality and his love for organizing parties. He quickly encouraged me to become involved and my social life never looked back!  We became very close friends. That friendship included visiting the Fallon home in Crosby on a number of occasions. I was struck by the warmth of his parents and that of the rest of his large family. It was easy to see where his good nature came from.

I have many amusing memories of John during our time in Liverpool. One that always comes to mind concerns a motor rally I organized as Secretary of the University Motoring Society. John and three of his friends decided to participate but they had a slight accident while still in Liverpool. (The Rally was taking place in North Wales, so they did not get too far).The car was impacted in such a way that a bottle of tomato ketchup broke, spilling its contents over the two young ladies in the car who, understandably, became hysterical thinking it was blood. If I remember correctly, he made it to the rally late, but with a good story to tell.

During those years as students, we occasionally spent time travelling by car in Europe, along with John’s brother Patrick. Many were the times when we stopped at some small village in France or Spain and lunched on wonderful breads, wine and cheese. The only time John and I got mad at each other was when he accidentally went through a Guardia Civil checkpoint in the middle of the night without stopping and I told him I thought that was careless. He told me in no uncertain terms to keep my back seat comments to myself.

When I immigrated to the US in 1966 to work for what became McDonnell Douglas, we kept in touch. I remember John sent me a letter (this was long before e-mails!) to say that he had been offered jobs with both GE in Cincinnati and Garrett Air Research in Los Angeles. He asked for my opinion on his options. Needless to say, I told him that that was a no-brainer. Garrett was the job to take and LA was the place to be! How significant a decision was that! As a result, John joined me in Redondo Beach towards the end of 1966 and we shared an apartment there until I left to take a job in New Jersey in 1969. John’s arrival preceded a University of Liverpool invasion with the Howards and the Meachins following shortly thereafter. The invasion was significantly reinforced by a partial Fallon Diaspora when Philomena and Bernard arrived in Southern California. In some ways, I can take the credit (or blame!) for the Fallon takeover. The way in which my life and that of my wife Debbie became intertwined with Philomena and Roberto is a separate and fascinating story in itself. But it all had its roots on the University’s Brownlow Hill in Liverpool.

John’s arrival (predictably) kicked into gear both the organizing and attending of parties. A classic story involved John going to a toga party appropriately dressed. Unfortunately, his car ran out of gas (how atypical was that!) on Wilshire Boulevard in the middle of LA at 3 o’clock in the morning. He was obliged to walk a considerable distance, can in hand, to the nearest gas station. He described with great amusement the comments he received relating to the poor fuel consumption of today’s chariots!. John wanted to try everything. He immediately took up skiing and scuba diving. The photograph of John with his foot on a body on the ground is me! The other photograph of him in the pool at 407 Avenue G in Redondo Beach reminded me of another story. John needed to practice his scuba technique in the pool- but did not have a weight belt at the time. He did, however, have a huge cache of pennies which he stored in his bedroom. He took this enormous pile of copper and dumped them in a sock which he tied to his waist. Unfortunately, the sock came loose, resulting in pennies being spread all over the bottom of the pool. It took days to retrieve them.

Whenever I returned to Los Angeles on business John and I would get together. The great thing about our friendship was that it did not matter how long it was since we had seen each other, we just took off again as if there had been no interruption. When I finally relocated to the Los Angeles area, I had the honor of being best man at his wedding to Sally. That reminds me of an occasion when Debbie and I, together with some friends, flew to San Francisco to spend a few days in the Wine Country. We happened to bump into John in the airport who immediately insisted we gate-crash a Murphy- Wetzel wedding. What a great party that was!

While we obviously did not see each other frequently when John moved to DC, we did stay in touch, learning of family news from Philomena and Roberto. The great story that Roberto can tell of yet another of John’s boats running out of gas on the Potomac, obliging Roberto to act as a horse pulling the boat along the towpath is wonderful. I know he has others.

I will miss John for a friendship that spanned over 50 years, his love of life, his generosity and his intellectual curiosity. In many ways, he was indeed a Renaissance Man. I really believe that is how he would like to be remembered.

Brian Jones.

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