University College Oxford Record 2020

1949:
RICHARD JAMES “JIM” COOK
(St Paul’s) died on 9 January 2020,
just before his 89th birthday. His son,
Alan (1980), has written this obituary:
By the time Jim left Univ, much of his
life’s infrastructure had been laid down.
Intellectual but not academic (just missing
a First in Chemistry, yet learned in languages,
history, geography and literature); hard-working but
not ambitious (a respected colleague, but never a
leader); sporty (rowing, cycling, squash, hiking) but
not an oar-bore; a devout Christian (deeply affected
by the University Mission), but not an “enthusiast”;
a faithful husband (he was engaged shortly after he
went down), but, ah! – he kept a “mistress”, named
Tintinalogia. Bell-ringing was Jim’s deepest passion.
Through ringing he met his wife, Betty Willcox (St
Anne’s), whilst novice-instructor at New College
Tower, but many a time did it threaten their
happiness. And oft did the children creep about the
house while Betty cursed “those bloody bells!”
Rowing could have been a rival passion:
his collection of “pots” and blades was divided
amongst a large number of descendants postmortem.
As Captain of Boats, Jim not only
introduced swivelling rowlocks to the Club, but
took the Univ First VIII up eight places over two
summers. He would have kept rowing had it not
been for National Service, but his crews held
regular reunions and attended dinners for the
next 65 years. His last visit, to the Henley reunion
in June, required a day-pass from hospital!
The Royal Artillery was nearly the end of
him. After a day on the ranges at Otterburn,
their 3-tonner swung round a curve and tipped
over. Waking up in Hexham hospital, Jim knew
that he’d been spared: every day thereafter was
a gift from God.
Fully recovered, and soon married,
Jim worked as a research chemist with
Morgan Crucible, who manufactured
carbon electric brushes. Fiddling with
bits of wire and lumps of graphite
became more interesting when he
transferred to the sales side, taking on
Eastern Europe in the 1970s. Long trips
abroad engaged his loves for travel, history,
geography, languages and getting into scrapes.
Asking directions from a passerby in Bucharest
led to a 40-year connection with a Romanian
defector in Brussels, a pianist who had fled without
his vast collection of manuscripts. The “Jim Cook
Library” is soon to open in Brussels, consisting of
all the MSS that he patiently smuggled out after
each trip to Romania.
Jim enjoyed family life, but relied on Betty
to guard the home front while he was away
for so much of the 70s and 80s. Four children
were welcomed and well-educated, though none
have equalled his achievements in his chosen
fields of endeavour. Eleven grandchildren lit
up his retirement, as did travelling with Betty,
voluntary work with Churches, NADFAS,
Twinning Associations, Univ jollifications and, of
course, bell-ringing. After Betty’s death in 2015,
ringing was a source of fellowship, stimulation
and solace, even after a broken back and a heart
condition made climbing to the bell-chambers a
severe challenge (especially to the nerves of his
fellow-ringers!). After an uncomfortable year of
illness, Jim died very quickly. His life, and the God
he had served, were confidently celebrated with
affectionate tributes and a quarter-peal (halfmuffled)
of Stedman Triples.
As a clerical admirer posted on Facebook, “May
he rest in peace, and may the glory in which he rises
be accompanied by the joyful noise of ringing bells.”
University College Record | October 2020 65