Clive and I were friends for almost fifty years. As life works, we were separated for many years geographically, and by choices made ( mainly mine ) to pursue entirely different career paths. When I returned to Canada in 2003, we immediately reconnected, and were able to spend some quality time together. We shared a passion for motorcycles and did some great local riding together. Clive had so many friends in Windsor, and always a lot of business going on. That made it hard at times to enjoy each other’s company as much as we did. We made time to do some Tae Kwon Do training together, and I think Clive really enjoyed the sport. His daughter Sarah joined us and eventually earned her Black Belt. Clive was extremely proud of her, as any good father would be. Clive was a great father and friend. Sometime around 2004, Clive agreed to visit Colombia with me. I had friends in Bogotá and knew the country from previous visits. We arrived at the airport in Bogotá and my friends were waiting for us in some vehicles parked in the area for taxis and passenger pick up. They always travelled with drivers and body guards, as Colombia then, was still a little rough around the edges. I think the entourage and the vehicles ( which were armoured ) made Clive a little nervous. I assured him that “all was good” as we caravanned into the Commercial Center of Bogotá, taking a few shortcuts to expedite the drive to a beautiful Sofitel Hotel, in the Embassy zone. He started to relax, as my friends assured him we were safe in the worst parts of the city, that always seem to surround, major International airports. He was becoming quite confident, as we finally proceeded thru a slightly better neighbourhood, and we’re following a new black Suburban with blacked out windows. We were all stopped at a long light, when some rough looking street guy, walked up to the Suburban and started trying to twist the passenger side mirror off the truck. I guess he thought he could steal the mirror and sell it for some cervesa ( beer ). Very quickly as we were watching this craziness, the doors of the Suburban flew open, and three passengers jumped out holding high tech, short barrelled automatic weapons. One of them, “weapon whipped” the street guy to the ground and then pointed the gun at him. We were sure he was going to shoot him. I had the front passenger side window halfway down, and at the last second the guys noticed us staring at them in what probably looked like shock, or at least, real surprise. They could probably tell that Clive and I were gringos and it probably contributed to their decision to give the street guy a few kicks, get back in their truck, run the light and go, but spare his life. Clive was beside himself. I had told him that we would be safe, in Colombia, and here, about twenty minutes into the trip, we almost witnessed a murder from a car length away. We got to the hotel, and my friends convinced Clive that the guys in front of us were Colombian DAS agents, an undercover style police unit. Yes, they probably would have shot the guy, but we were in no imminent danger. We had a really big laugh over the irony of it all, and over the next two weeks, travelled all over Colombia by car, helicopter, small plane, and plenty of walking, in all the wrong places. We never had a problem, and made friends wherever we went. My friends and the Colombian people we met, all loved Clive. He had invitations from everyone to return anytime, while they opened their homes to us. Clive had a magnetic personality matched only by his intelligence and sensitivity, that lay just under the surface of a cautious reserved exterior, honed by many years of business success, and human resource development. He could make friends in any social or economic status. He treated everyone with respect and made everyone he associated with, feel special, and worthwhile. He enjoyed the history, and the nature of Colombia. We toured Emerald mines, Coffee Country, and some incredible nightclubs together. We fired machine guns in the jungle one day and went shopping for clothes in Bogotá together, like two girlfriends, a few days later. We both liked shopping, lol. He especially enjoyed the people, and sharing their culture with them. We had so much fun, and I remember feeling so lucky to have a friend like Clive, to share our Colombian and other adventures together. Rest In Peace my brother,