When asked about my family I used to respond:

“I am an only child.... and so is my brother.”
 
Clive and I were 10 years apart and largely brought up in 2 separate continents and two different hemispheres.
 
Clive spent most of his secondary education at boarding school in Crediton close to the Smiths; Aunty Pearl, Uncle Jack and family. I was at primary school in Africa before moving to England and enjoying a stint with the Smiths when the Parents were job and house hunting. By which time Clive was at University.
 
We saw each other intermittently during this time.  I sadly missed Clive and Marie’s low key wedding but was thrilled to have been let in on the secret before my parents knew.

On my 21st birthday Clive and Marie met Rosie for the first time. Clive took me aside and gave his seal of approval. I am not sure whether Rosie and I were even going out at this time!
 
In 1981 Rosie and I were married, and I moved to Chatham with her. Conveniently this was a bus ride away from the European School of Osteopathy in Maidstone.
 
Meanwhile Clive was pursuing his Vocation in radio, where he had achieved the role of News Editor with Radio Sheffield.
 
Naturally he was on the look out for promotion. After several attempts he finally was offered the post of Programme Organiser for Radio Medway, close to where we lived. (1982)
 
Clive and then the family came to stay with us until they found a house. From then on we were able to share much more time together perhaps creating a firmer bond than if we had grown up together.

Mum says that Clive knew his own mind from the word go. Very much an individual from birth. He knew what he liked and was single minded even as a child.   He was also loud and clear not only vocally but in his choices. I think it is fair to say that you knew where you were with Clive!
 
Clive’s passion for broadcasting began at an early age and lasted a lifetime. When he was about 10 years old he taped an interview for Northern Rhodesian Radio. Mum says that when he heard himself he was amazed to find that he had an African accent! Something he resolved to change. Our
Cousin Mike recalls going with him in the late 50's to an exhibition at Olympia. This was at the school exhibition organised by the Daily Mail probably at Christmas.

(At this event) Clive recorded a programme for world service, where he was interviewed by Raymond Baxter of Tomorrow’s World, and Brian Johnston of Test Match Special. This was perhaps his first foray into the world of radio journalism. After the broadcast that evening Alex  took them to Victoria Theatre to see the Crazy Gang and Snozzle Durrante.
 
I understand that Raymond Baxter was very encouraging and helpful in establishing Clive in the mysterious world of the media.
 
Penny wrote to me and said that she remembered that Clive loved Auntie Pearl’s food and roasts in particular. But her abiding memories are of the eulogies he gave for Penny’s mum and dad, which communicated a warmth and new appreciation of their parents. She also said that Clive's voice is the part of him which she will always be able to hear and which commanded attention. Which was such a perfect fit for the radio career he pursued.’’

Clive’s beautiful clear and loud voice was often put to good effect whilst sitting in front of the television watching England play rugby. In his enthusiasm he would give detailed, clear and concise advice to referees and players, which I am sure they were able to hear. He kindly warned the children whenever he sat down to watch a match.
 
Our two families spent many a Christmas together where Clive would take charge of the cooking. He had the ability to produce a memorable roast dinner inspired by the culinary skills of Aunty Pearl. His roast potatoes often pentland squires and his unique gravy were legendary. Kate tells me that she knows the secret of this savoury ambrosia. We all aspire to his gravy!
 
One such memorable Christmas was spent in North Devon, before we had moved there in which the local pub was advertised as being open till one. Ideal! We played snooker and talked football and generally gossiped. Time passed by and we were enjoying ourselves, taking the opportunity of topping up our glasses, until we realized that it was nearly 4 o’clock and we may have forgotten about the dinner, which by that time was a little overcooked.

This last Christmas we spent in rented cottages near Cirencester was very special. The whole family was together and although Dad was in a lot of pain and Clive had the prospect of an operation at New Year, it was relaxed and enjoyable.
 
Clive was very much a family man. He and Marie raised three lovely girls and despite the predominantly feminine environment, he thrived. He also loved babies. We will recall the image of the children, nieces, nephews, great niece and new grandson, William asleep on his chest.
 
Clive was a bit of a contradiction, on the one hand he was a down-to-earth realist and on the other hand he had a romantic side.  
 
He welcomed change. He loved new technologies and was a bit of an early adopter of such. We watched the World Cup final in 2006 on his new High Definition TV. He believed that the internet is a power for good.
 
In contrast he was also great lover of tradition from Real Ale to Morris dancing. I gladly take credit for introducing him to real ale and his subsequent membership of CAMRA, as well as his possession of the latest edition of the Good Beer Guide. Rosie can take some credit for his interest in Morris Dancing and other folk traditions.
 
He was always buzzing with get rich ideas. One was to have a Sunday Lunch restaurant in the country where whole families would come for the day and enjoy an organic Copplestone’ style lunch with facilities for children to play and granddads to put their feet up!
 
He was always genuinely interested in what we were doing. He was ready with advice and encouragement and I believe that our oldest, Claire, in particular benefitted.
 
When times are good there is a tendency to take each other for granted. When the prospect of losing Clive arose, it struck me that he was a major pillar in my life. Being half a generation older than me he was a big brother and also to some extent a third parent.
 
One thing that particularly struck me in his last days, and despite his illness, was that whenever I rang him to ask how he was, he showed a genuine interest and concern for all of us.

In this respect he demonstrated the grace and dignity that he had in common with his parents.
 
I am so grateful that his end was peaceful surrounded by his loving family and including touching farewell from mum over the phone.
 
So dear brother until we meet again your memory will be with us, as you were Loud and Clear.
 
By Jonathan Lawrence, Clive's brother.