RIP Keith Lancaster

Being at a golf club & hotel complex a few miles outside Durham before 5pm in the evening between reunions it was too early for bed by hours and too early for golf by years so Kate and I decided to hit Durham city for a bit of sightseeing and light refreshment.  A short tour of the cathedral and tomb of the Venerable Bede followed by a stroll along the river made us quite thirsty so we decided to visit the pub not recommended by Barry who had told us the beer was good.
It always comes as a surprise to southerners that northerners are spontaneously friendly.  At first you look over your shoulder to see who the barmaid is talking to, then you suspect that she is trying something on although its not quite clear what that might be.  Anyway armed with the full quota of change and two regulation measured drinks we took a seat in the sparsely decorated and poorly lit upper section of the pub beside five other patrons who were clearly not on their first drink of the day.
Having survived the benign friendliness of the barmaid we were cool but did not snub their quite undisguised overtures of friendliness, comments and stares and they turned into several concurrent conversations that were almost impossible to join as all five seemed to be talking at once to more than one person at a time.
They told us they had been at a funeral of an obviously dearly beloved friend the eponymous Keith Lancaster, who lost his fight against cystic fibrosis a week earlier at the age of 46, and had been cremated that morning.  Keith it seems had left £200 for the express purpose of their having a drink on him after his funeral and they had taken up this challenge with enthusiasm.
How sad it is that my first instinct was to disbelieve and suspect that somehow I was at risk, I was going to be conned or taken for a ride, without any concrete reason for that reaction.   And I think it's because I spend too much time in the company of the sort of selfish souls who proudly announce that they rush up an empty lane of traffic and push their way into a patient queue.  Sharp elbowed colleagues who happily ascend the slippery pole of success at the expense of others.
I went out for a drink in Durham to pass the time but got so much more from the experience.  Rest In Peace Keith, I don't know anything about you and your achievements other than that you were certainly esteemed by your friends and that's something of real value.