David Hamilton
“I only have happy memories of Chris. We were really close at school, hanging out for years together. Only argued once or twice in all that time, and it never lasted long. We were two very boisterous boys who were full of opinions and energy.
At about thirteen he had a full-on beard and had to shave. It made him look so much older that he could get into pubs anywhere, and he had the confidence to pull it off. I joined him when I was about 15 or 16. We'd go to the Waiting Room at the bottom of Morningside and also the ‘old man’ pubs around Tollcross. We didn't draw too much attention to ourselves: it was hilarious and exciting and we felt so grown up.
On one walk home late at night, Chris wanted to get a taxi home, so instead of asking if he could borrow a tenner, he offered to sell me his leather jacket. I laughed, but when I put it on it fitted really well, so I gave him the tenner which he was delighted with, and so was I. I wore that black leather jacket for years, and it's still in my mum's house in Bruntsfield somewhere.
We sat next to each other in any classes we were in. We were like a pair of clowns or a comedy duo. We'd set each other up for punchlines: it was seamless and effortless, our questions would follow the same line of probing, looking for an 'in'. We had the same sense of humour and were just as quick verbally as each other. It was brilliant. We both did well, despite messing around. Chris was smarter.
Chris got into Cambridge, and was rightly proud. He delighted in telling us it was the same course as James Bond did, which was a cool fact when you're 17.
We both went on gap years and Chris and I met up in New Zealand, where we went to the Lions’ game together, and Raratonga. We went to Hamilton and played with Boroughmuir who following the Lions around NZ. It was like being back home again and we had an amazing time. Thinking back, he had a huge sense of adventure that I admired.
Chris was witty, articulate, intelligent, stubborn, argumentative, fair, a genuinely nice guy.”