Alan Morgan

Alan was a child of working-class parents in wartime England; born into a world of blackout blinds, bomb sirens, and sugar rations. The memory of mutton’s rank taste stayed with him for life, preventing him from ever enjoying lamb.

His father was an accountant, but Alan leant towards engineering from an early age. As a teenager, he created his own kayak out of canvas –ruining his mother’s sewing machine in the process. Decades later, sitting with his own teenagers in the fancy Compleat Angler hotel, west of London, Alan recounted with laughter the time he agreed to transfer a well-to-do young man across the Thames to that very spot. Unfortunately, his passenger was unfamiliar with the unstable nature of homemade kayaks, and was none too pleased to find himself, and his posh clothes, under water.

After graduating engineering school, Alan married and took work building the M1 highway. Finances were tight, and after the couple found themselves hiding from the milkman on collection day, they decided to emigrate to the land of opportunity. It is no wonder they chose Montreal. Ever since a school exchange with students in France, Alan was a Francophile. He rarely spoke French, but was a prolific reader of French works, devouring books such as Le Ton Beau de Marot. After retirement, he read La Presse daily, and was over the moon when Patrick Lagacé called to thank him personally for a donation.

Alan was not just a mathematically minded engineer and computer scientist, he also loved language, music and art. Sundays at the Morgan household were marked by recordings of Glen Gould’s Goldberg Variations, with Gould’s distinctive humming in the background. In his seventies he began drawing and joined a group of men who met weekly to perfect their sculpting skills. His home is adorned with the sculptures produced during this creative time.

Alan was an introvert who shied away from large gatherings; but he had an ability to charm the individuals he let into his life. He was a wonderful cook. His pastry was second to none, but he could never pass on the secret to his daughter, since he found it bewilderingly easy to make. His signature cake was the Viennese Dobos Torte, and this became a birthday special. He was a master biscotti chef and an avid Ricardo fan. He loved Korean food, and claimed he could eat Gochujang with a spoon, right out of the container.

In his forties, Alan endured the most difficult time of his life, when his older brother, whom he idolized, died too early of cancer. The event brought him closer to his twin sisters and his nephews, forging relationships that he cherished. Four days before Alan’s death, despite being in a great amount of pain, he insisted on making his way to the basement for his weekly zoom call with his sister, and his family could hear the joy and laughter emanating from downstairs.

His wife and his children will be hosting a celebration of Alan’s life for close friends and family.