Neil McIntosh, 1947 - 2026

Tribute to Neil McIntosh, by Clive Jones Neil and I met at the LSE in the late sixties.I was doing my first degree and he had moved down from York to begin a Masters. We became instant friends, playing rugby together, tearing around London in his Mini, behaving appallingly , drinking far too much, taking part in sit-ins and demonstrations against the Vietnam War, occupying our university and generally having a good time. How we both emerged with degrees and went on to have successful careers was a minor miracle. We were friends for nearly sixty years. I went North to begin a career in journalism and then television as Neil built his career in making the world a better place through Shelter and VSO. We could go months without seeing each other, but it didn’t matter. We always picked up conversations at the point we had left off. Neil was a man who made you smile, who made you feel better, who made you be better. The LSE rugby team that we were part of was a close knit group and wee stayed in touch over the years with annual lunches and dinners. Neil was always there with a new story, a new experience, a wonderful anecdote or a dry quip. Even when he was deep into Parkinson’s he battled up to lunch on the train from Oxford struggling in and out of cabs without a word of complaint. Neil was a man who took friendship seriously and we loved him for it. Years later when he was running CFBT so brilliantly we would have lunch regularly at the Reform Club, although I always had to wake him up first. He would always be fast asleep in a chair in the smoking room when I arrived. Neil had the ability to grab a snooze anywhere, any time. Neil also liked staying with us at our house In West Wales. He came once just days after he had gone through his surgery for deep brain simulation to ease the effects of his Parkinson’s. DBS involves have electrodes planted deep in your brain connected to a pacemaker like device near your collarbone.Neil sat in the back of the car explaining in a very matter of fact way that the first time the doctors switched on the controlling device they had given him double vision, the second time another bit of inadvertent programming took away his power of speech, and the third programming any movement at all on the left side of his body My wife Vikki listened in mounting horror wondering how we were going to cope if another unintended side effect appeared over the next week or so. If it goes wrong you can switch it off can’t you Neil, she asked? Absolutely not he said and I have left the instructions booklet at home. He then lay back, went fast asleep and slept all the way to Tenby. He remained as relaxed and carefree to the very end. When I visited him at his care home In Kidlington he always greeted me with a beaming smile and a hug. Great friends are difficult to find. I was lucky enough to have one called Neil McIntosh for fifty eight years.