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He was a very, very nice man. Calm (but only on the surface, he said), gentle and<br />
kind, a man who served his friends and <strong>College</strong> well. He died peacefully where he<br />
wanted to, in his armchair at Shucklets.<br />
His substantial bequest to the <strong>College</strong> will fund a Garton Garden Assistant (to<br />
increment our gardening staff), an increased bursary for the Creative Arts Fellowship<br />
(to be renamed the Geoffrey Garton Creative Arts Fellowship), and a sum for art<br />
work for the <strong>College</strong> and to help fund <strong>College</strong> concerts. In addition, a beautiful<br />
birdbath in the Bishop’s House Garden will be renovated and inscribed with Geoff’s<br />
name.<br />
Jim Kennedy<br />
Postscript<br />
A few years ago we cat-sat in a medieval torre in Trastevere, on the west bank of<br />
the Tiber in Rome. The owner, whom at that stage we had not met, returned after<br />
being on a field trip with students, and we dined together that night: ‘So what is your<br />
Oxford college?’ ‘Wolfson,’ we replied. ‘Do you know Geoff Garton?’ ‘Yes indeed.’<br />
Then he told us: ‘Geoff was attached to my father’s lab in the States. My mother<br />
went into labour with me, and called my father to take her to the local maternity unit.<br />
He was too busy with an experiment, and asked Geoff to drive us there, which he<br />
duly did. I suppose he is a sort of honorary midwife to me. Dad got the Nobel Prize<br />
later ...’<br />
To Ellen and myself, Dear Reader, it was a sort of Anthony Powell moment.<br />
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