Photos kindly supplied by Cath Cox
			A familiar figure for many years - from his early motorcycle to his eventual trike, on which he struck out fearlessly from the Triangle into Broad Street, a habit which bore evidence of days when traffic was less prolific, and considerably less fierce, than it is in the 21C.
	His day-job was that of monumental mason, but on Sundays and at many other times, he was to be found seated at the organ of All Saints', where he gave many years of loyal and devoted service, including directing the choir. No member of the clergy ever had to bother with sorting out the right tune for a hymn, or chant to accompany the singing of psalms. Howard knew the lot off by heart. Even when he felt he should give up playing, he remained musically active as a reliable member of the bass section of the choir. Woe betide any bride (most of them, it must be said) who was late for her wedding; at precisely 10 minutes past the appointed hour he was wont to remark "Give her another 5 minutes, and we'll have to claim overtime !"