I have always considered it a privilege to have worked with Tony and regarded him as the best of teachers, mentor, coach, and a good friend over the last 50 year; he was also probably the brightest person I have known. We had some fun doing our x-ray work and, from the interest shown in recent years, others have now considered it of interest too in ways we had not imagined at the time. He would like to have known that. I once recall puzzling for several days over what two interlocking tetrahedra looked like as part of a crystallographic solution and, in the end, walked over unannounced to his house to ask if he could explain it to me. With a mischievous grin, and without uttering a word, he cut off a piece of planed 2” x 2” timber from what he had found in his workshop, and marked the appropriate corners in red and green pen. “It looks like this” he said, handing over the cube, barely able to stop grinning. I still have this simple teaching aid. We would often meet up, even on a Saturday afternoon, to discuss the results from the latest computer code changes I had made, wondering why the output had not properly converged. After a few minutes silence, his pipe came out, the bowl duly scraped with a penknife and rapped out noisily onto a metal ash tray. After repeating this ritual at least twice, he refuelled the pipe bowl and noisily relit it; he was then ready to recheck equations whist I would recheck the code. Embarrassingly, it took almost a month to spot that one line of code was missing a ‘1/’. His impish grin appeared once more. I will miss you my friend.