Primarily for general aviation discussion, but other aviation topics are also welcome.
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By townleyc
Apologies if already posted, but I recently heard that Lindsay Brown died last week.

From the RFC Web site
It is with deep regret that we announce the sudden death of our CFI Lindsay Brown.

A much loved family member who will be sorely missed by them and all his friends and colleagues, not to mention all the pilots and flight instructors that he taught over his long career with the Rural Flying Corps.

Arthur Lindsay Brown

11/6/1936 - 4/2/2020


He will be much missed

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By lobstaboy
Lindsay won me over on our first meeting - I'd just arrived at Bourn on the first leg of my first solo cross country - he took the trouble to welcome me and compliment me on my radio calls and landing. I still remember how that made me feel - something like "Wow, I can do this!"
Thanks Lindsay.
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By Flyin'Dutch'
A very likeable chap.
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By Dominie
That's sad to hear. I did my PPL there in the 90s and he was the examiner. You knew if he was happy then you'd done pretty well. I once flew in his Cub with him, which was pretty damn exciting (I won't say what he did, but it was under full control!).
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By Jim and Pat Dalton
For those who may wish to pay their respects I'm told the following

Lindsay's funeral arrangements are as follows

Tuesday 3rd March at 13:00 hours at the West Chapel, Cambridge City Crematorium, Huntingdon Road Cambridge CB3 0JJ, and then afterwards at the Hotel Felix, Whitehouse Lane, Huntingdon Road Girton, Cambridge CB3

Hope your all keeping well


Jim and Pat
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By Hairyplane
''Alright my son!''
I will always remember those words. Always a laugh and a joke and a look back on old times whenever I visited Bourn.
I attended one of the first FIC courses there back in 1979. I was a cop at the time and eventually instructed part-time for a few years. Before us students could do any classroom work we ...ahem... had to build the classroom first. The first 3 days of the course were spent driving tractors to and fro to collect the various bits of secondhand hand temporary building and then toil away into the evenings putting the thing together, using begged, stolen or borrowed farm machinery.
I remember my first lesson with the incorrigible David Hughes, a giant of a man in huge shorts who, as we taxied out, sipped his tea between instructions and abuse. The aircraft at the time was 'IE', a C152 Aerobat (which had an impressive Nav central stack, until you realised it was a full size colour cut out from a magazine !). David asked me to stop alongside the car park, he opened the door and his big Labrador Gemma hopped in, sat on his lap and put her big paws through the spectacle column. Hanging up his tea mug on the seatbelt hook, we proceeded to do some general handling, seemingly oblivious of the dog, whose large panting tongue prescribed a perfect rotation as we did the first of many rolls.
we would then get back for lunch, only to find that a significant proportion of my sandwiches, packed up for me by Gerry at The Red Lion ( Caxton 602 - I can even remember the phone number!) where we lodged, had been largely scoffed by Gary and Lindsay but kindly kept a few back for David and I.
I remember the heat, flies, endless swatting and, I have to say, running out of clothes after the classroom building, followed by hints and the production of a big bottle of deodorant in the cockpit.
David and Gary died some years ago unfortunately.
Lindsay soldiered on relentlessly and was always pleased to see me whenever I was able to fly in. They put on a concert for the locals many years back. Lindsay, aka 'The Great Lindso' dressed up in a classic leopard skin over- the shoulder strongman outfit, stick on moustache, wig et al, proceeded to put on a hilarious act lifting a 'very heavy' dumbell ( 2 black-painted beach balls on the end of a wooden pole!) and whirled it around his head.
Lindsay, you will always be fondly remembered. We will miss your stories and your ability to find humour in everything.
I regret I will be overseas on the 3rd but will raise a glass and shed a tear for a Diamond Geezer. One of life's greats. :thumleft:
Peter Holloway
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By flyingeeza
Met him (and his doggy?) once only when we went to retrieve our aeroplane at Bourn...yet I remember him clearly as a really pleasant and friendly bloke.
Blue skies. :salut:
By Hairyplane
Another funny story!
Back in the day, I had no money but yearned for a career change as a commercial pilot, hence the FI course.
To pay for it, £800 AFAICR, I had to sell my Vauxhall Viva and made the trip to Bourn from Kent in a borrowed banger.
I spotted a Wolseley 18/85S seemingly abandoned in the car park and quickly discovered that it belonged to Lindsay.
I asked him if it was for sale and he told me I could have it FOC. He told me that it was running but 'needed a few things doing'. One mans scrap is another treasure! I noticed that the fuel cap was missing and clearly had been for a while judging by the rust around the filler neck. At the time, my mate Alan Cooper - a graduate of the Bourn course before me - had founded a Condor syndicate at Rochester ( £4ph leased from Michael Jones!). A regular at Rochester, name spared(!) who, as a low time early solo student had decided to buzz a lorry on the M2, got himself nicked on landing and lost his medical as a result, was a dab hand at fixing cars. He leapt at the opportunity to fly with me in the Condor some weeks after I had finished my course and loaded up spare battery, huge tool box and a can of fuel ( yep...I know...) to get the car going and drive it back. I told Lindsay next time I visited that the car was going great and explained that our man had a lot of trouble suck-siphoning nearly a gallon of rusty, foul-tasting water from the fuel tank before he finally got it going. It seemed amazing to me, I explained to Lindsay, that so much rainwater could've got into the tank just because the fuel cap was missing.
'That wasn't water me old son. It was our only urinal until we put the chemical toilet hut up!' :lol:
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By PeterMa
I was sad to hear about Lindsay when dealing with the guys at the club recently and having spoken to him over the last 5 or 5 years he was always a gent - ( with that glint in his eye that has been referred to already ! ) .

I feel sad that another genuine funny & pleasant character has left us - much to the detriment of GA flying & life in general :(

May the stories & happy remembrance that goes with them continue even if Lindsay is not here to deny all of them !
By TouringTuggy
Sad to hear of Lindsay's passing. One of life's great characters. Thoroughly enjoyed doing my IMC course with him - as I recall, including using Bedford's ILS whilst they were closed, albeit with 20 knots up the chuff. And 3 sessions of an hour each with him teaching me to fly taildraggers in the J3, with landings every which way every few minutes - some of the most fun flying I have ever had.

I was pleased to catch up with Lindsay again, having not been into Bourn for some years, when I dropped in with the RF3 last March, and chew the cud over some times past.
By Mark Miller
Time to relate another golden moment involving Lindsay Brown…

In 1978 I was half way through a 5 year sentence at Comberton Village College, about 3 miles SE of Bourn. During lessons I would daydream about what it might be like to land on the playing field. “Tight” was probably the word. Google Earth says 380 yards.

Imagine my delight when all 800 odd inmates were told, one Friday before a school fete, that we could go outside to watch two aeroplanes arrive for Saturday’s festivities. The Rural Flying Corps were bringing in an Aerobat and a Chipmunk for static!

The field had an abrupt change of level paralleling the obvious landing direction, so it was immediately to the school side of this handy line feature that we were herded. Adequate width to the south for the landings.

One of the Deputy Heads had always struck some of us as ‘a sandwich short’, and this was about to be confirmed in spades. As the Chipmunk curved onto short final, full flap coming on, so our man dashed into its path. In an apparent bid to mark the touchdown area, he was flailing his suit jacket as if taunting a bull… and blocking the strip! At head height up came the power. A whiff of black exhaust richness as the Chipmunk snarled past in an overshoot, a think bubble above the cockpit and a shaking fist within. Should I intercede, having at least some knowledge? Hell no! This was the best school excitement ever, and fellow Comprehensive-goers would surely duff me up if I stopped such fun.

Back came the Chipmunk the other way, canopy slid open to the first detent. A gasp from the youthful crowd – that was a Churchillian (ish) gesture from pilot to Deputy Head. Another spirited run, arm outstretched this time. Oh dear, that was a gesture all right, but the sign certainly wasn’t V-shaped! At this the penny dropped, our great leader vacated the runway, and the RFC landed in good order.

Need I add that G-BBND’s pilot was Lindsay Brown. Hero that day to those of us youngsters who laughed until it hurt!