The POETS Luncheon Society

Brian Christopher Hurcombe born in Edmonton, North London on 3rd March 1945 lost his brave fight against cancer at The Margaret Centre, Whipps Cross Hospital on 10th December 2017, leaving his lovely wife Jean; son, Brian (Chip); daughter Tracey, grandchildren, Francessca, Lauren, Lewis, Alix and Georgia and great grandchildren Connor, Eric and Roxy who he adored completely.

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Brian’s funeral was a very well attended affair.  He was a long serving and active member of the Freemason’s and his funeral was sensitively conducted by members of his lodge.  Brian would have been very proud.

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I first met the construction industry’s aficionado of all things premixed concrete some 40 years ago, when he and his then manager waltzed in to visit my Procurement Director looking like “Hale & Pace” and we became firm friends thereafter.

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Brian was very much a family man and spent most of his free time with them on family holidays abroad.  In particular, the southern states of the USA. In the early days before their children arrived, he could be seen speeding along the roads of East London & Essex on his beloved motorbike with Jean hanging on the back for dear life.

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All those that knew him well will remember fondly the extra curricula nights out at charity functions organised via several Industry clubs such as the Poets; The Slobs and NELS and would marvel as Brian tripped the light fantastic on the dance floor with Jean, on at least one occasion dressed as Batman and Robin (‘Strictly’ eat your heart out).

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A keen sportsman (and closet Gooner) he loved his golf and rarely missed an invitation. He was a stickler for the rules and always encouraged the hackers amongst us with tips on how to improve our game. He had the patience of a saint. One particular Poets’ hackers golf day saw Brian team up with a novice, proclaiming he would be playing like a pro come the 18th.  One hour later on the 2nd tee after letting numerous 4 balls play through, Brian, a little hot under the collar was still encouraging the novice to “keep his head down” whilst taking his shot. By the 17th Brian was incandescent with rage as the novice finally kept his head still and got a ball on the green telling Brian he was right about the head and wasn’t it so much easier. Brian threw his clubs to the floor and walked to the clubhouse muttering that he was going to kill someone. The other players applauded his tenacity, laughing their heads off as they had never seen Brian so defeated.

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Brian, the congenial Master of Ceremonies at Poets lunches till his retirement as Chairman in February 2011, would always give as much as he got from his audience. He was an infectious and very warm human being, his quick wit getting the better of many who tried to best him. His catchphrase “Don’t mind me interrupting your conversation” stopped most in their tracks.

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The anecdotes go on forever. I’m sure everyone that knew Brian for whatever reason will have a story to regale their friends with if asked.  Brian was a very funny man and wanted to make others laugh with him.  He was also a very loving and charitable man who cared about everyone. Rest in peace Brian, in the immortal words of Max Miller “There’ll neva be anuvva”.

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Apart from all the foregoing Brian will always be remembered by the Poets in particular as the instigator of the charity raffles at functions which have gone on to raise thousands of pounds for good causes and will continue to do so in Brian’s memory.

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You may read further and make Just Giving donations at: www.funeralzone.co.uk/obituaries

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Dave Wilkinson