Three weeks ago I posted on LinkedIn about how my brain doesn’t always let me get on with what I want, and someone asked to know more about my dad.
So I’ll give you a potted biography, but first, I think it’s more interesting to document what I learned and inherited from him.
What my father gave me
Maths
Dad was brilliant at mathematics. I inherited that and I’m so incredibly grateful for it.
Pure maths came naturally to me (applied maths took a little effort, and statistics a little more effort). I love maths. I read maths books for fun.
I have the slide rule and logarithm book that my dad used in his early career. Priceless.
Logic & Problem solving
Personally, I think that anyone who is a ‘natural’ at mathematics must be a logician and problem solver, particularly when we are getting onto the more advanced areas of pure mathematics. (I mean, let’s face it, every maths test we’ve ever done is just a series of problems that need solving.)
My dad was great at problem solving. Like how he would come up with ingenious ways to create more storage space in our bungalow. (A storage box suspended from the ceiling in the hall.)
I was never ‘handy’, so although I was fascinated by my dad’s creativity in the carpentry / furniture making department, it never rubbed off on me. What drew me in was his seemingly magical ability to solve cryptic crosswords. Every evening he would sit down with The Guardian newspaper, flip the back page back, and do the crossword - always in pencil, then overwritten in pen once finished. I don’t really know why he bothered with the pencil; he hardly ever made a mistake.
I must have been in my early teens when I started to take an interest in this ability of his. He would be sitting in his armchair and I’d lean on the right arm and watch. After he’d solved each clue in his head, he’d explain it to me whilst writing it in. At that time, I was completely out of my depth, but at some point I remember that I started to suggest answers to him. Years later, after I’d left home and would come back to visit, we’d make a point of solving the crossword together.
I still try and do The Guardian crossword on a daily basis - online now, of course - and manage to solve it most days. (Last weekend’s prize cryptic in 10 minutes!)
Problem solving is a big part of who I am and what I do. I like puzzles of all kinds - both for leisure and professionally. The business of ‘business’ is about recognising patterns and solving problems.
Quiet Reflection & Consideration
I definitely get this from my dad. He was a man of few words. He was calm, quiet, considered. Happy to sit and listen, happy not to be the one talking.
This is me 100%. It’s not that I am bored/disinterested/pissed off (for those who ask). I’m taking it all in. Considering what’s being said and drawing conclusions or reviewing alternatives.
Like my father, I’ll speak when I have something that’s worth saying. I’m not going to blurt out something for the sake of it; to feign knowledge or attempt oneupmanship.
A fear of stopping
This is definitely environmental rather than biological (I hope).
My dad had a brilliant mind, which for the most part he kept to himself. His work, his hobbies and his crosswords kept him going and his mind sharp.
When he retired, it’s like he breathed out a large sigh and just, well, stopped.
Within a very short time he was forgetting things. At first it was just where he’d left something, but before long he was forgetting where we were driving to half-way through a journey. And then he couldn’t remember who I was. Alzheimer’s is a horrible condition for those on the outside who have to watch and support as best they can.
Now, I know nothing about the brain or how it works, and I also know that correlation does not imply causation, but it seems to me that retirement did for my dad. So I’m planning on keeping busy, and keeping my brain busy until something other than retirement stops me.
Potted History
- Attended King Henry VIII School, Coventry (at the same time as the poet, Philip Larkin, but my father was in the year above). I also attended, some 40 years later.
- Joined the RAF as an engineer and was posted around the UK and Asia during WW2, servicing aircraft.
- Post RAF, trained to be a draughtsman and worked at a number of companies, notably Hawker Siddeley, where he worked on (a small part of) the design of the Harrier (jump jet).
- Suffered a period of redundancy, that was a hard time for him and mum. I think I was pretty oblivious to it but, looking back, I can see now how it troubled him.
- Later, worked at Oleo Pneumatics (now Oleo International), where I also ‘worked’ during my summer breaks from university, trying to get their Sun workstations to talk to their printers and plotters.
Photo of my father, Frank Coles, taken when he was a Sergeant Engineer, at RAF Chaklala (now PAF Base, Chaklala) in February 1947. I share his inability to tame hair.
