Some pages devoted to some friends present or missing!
Alain :
Since the beginning of the year 1970, one crosses, one loses oneself, one finds oneself, but always around the same topics: music, friends and Brel...
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Cricri :
One day of year 1979, I crossed a cheerful and fascinated man. He made build just behind at home. He was already, always, fascinated by his profession ...
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Serge :
At the beginning of the year 1980, I crossed the road of a Commander of the Air force, impassioned by new technologies and people who surrounded it...
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Since the beginning of the year 1970, one crosses, one loses oneself, one finds oneself, but always around the same topics: music, friends and Brel, truth, only, the single one.
A large guy, cordial and enthusiastic, met with the turning of the daily work, and which already, was impassioned for the music and the song. Its dream: to sing and make known themselves to live about it.
And then, one day, a click: the musics and the words of Brel were involved in this universe of variety. And passion led Alain towards representations of Brel, truer than natural, and then towards the collection. All that relates to Brel interests it, of the pair of glasses of sun to the cufflinks, via all the discs, posters in concerts and books on Brel.
But most extraordinary in this passion of Brel, it is a new passion for the dioramas and the models, putting in scene the life of Brel. Always realistic models and which make it possible Alain to animate the exposures that he proposes in whole France, and even abroad.
All this research and this passion enabled him to meet some friends of Brel, of which François Rauber (the orchestrator of Brel) and Jean Corti (one of the composers of Brel), and among those, a woman particularly touched it: Alice Pasquier, the wife of Jojo, the secretary and confidant missing in 1974.
Here, it is the Alain whom we discovered 30 years ago, and whom we rediscover every day: one impassioned and enthralling, a guy who does not leave indifferent.
One day of year 1979, I crossed a cheerful and fascinated man. He made build just behind at home. He was already, always, fascinated by his profession. A profession ? No, a passion, a religion : the auto racing event, but quoted dark, highly-rated technical, highly-rated passion which !
In the course of the months and years, one learnt to know, to respect himself, to use, to bear himself, to support himself.
He was called Christian, but everybody knew him under the name CriCri. He haddragged his getres since African sands, with reunite them raids Cïtroen of the 1960s, 1970, up to the bithume of the circuits of Formula 1, with the adventure Renault and its power-driven cars turbo, with the biggest stables of Formula 1 which used the new engines Renault and how much, 5, 6, 7 championships of the world. He was there, always on all the circuits of the world, from Japan to Australia, by way of Brazil, Canada or European circuits.
His dream, a small house in a quite small village of the Charente, Polignac. A small house where he could welcome all his friends, a small house where from he could admire, caress, spoil his trees. Ah, his trees, of the most rachitic oak, saved from a sure death, in the returned maples amoureusement of Canada, by way of a whole family of fruit trees, old apples, rare pears and even an olive tree.
«When I'd be old, I shall come under this olive tree, to think and meditate...»
He, who mixed with the engines hyper sophisticated, didn't foresee (is it very true ?) the breakdown of his engine. A day, grey and rainy, as every sad day, he went to the Realm of Happy People there, he, who wanted so much that those who surrounded him are happy.
At the beginning of the year 1980, I crossed the road of a Commander of the Air force, impassioned by new technologies and people who surrounded it.
The figure was made of rigor, of contradictions, sometimes of angers and the result was, clear there, clean, precis. During several years, he knew to make cooperate private industrialists and several administrations, in an effective way, for the good performance of a quite particular system of weapon!
Serge was somebody of conscientious and rigorous, sometimes until the extreme. He was an inexhaustible source of knowledge, the answer always arrived very quickly, precise and sometimes authoritative, but that stuck perfectly with the character who never made neither concessions nor compromisings, and which did not accept or little contradiction.
I never could call it differently than My Commander, and I was made rembarrer systematically. We lost sight of the fact ourselves whereas he had become Colonel, but he was always My Commander. A form of respect perhaps.
Parallel to his community activities, Serge was a impassioned of table tennis. And I can only reproduce the homage that the Committee of table tennis of the Marne pronounced on June 14th, 2008 to him:
We will keep of Serge this image of an untiring leader, not counting neither its time nor its efforts with the service of the PING, in a word the symbol of an extreme voluntary help, in process unfortunately of rarefaction even of disappearance...
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Alain :
Since the beginning of the year 1970, one crosses, one loses oneself, one finds oneself, but always around the same topics: music, friends and Brel, truth, only, the single one.
And then, one day, a click: the musics and the words of Brel were involved in this universe of variety. And passion led Alain towards representations of Brel, truer than natural, and then towards the collection. All that relates to Brel interests it, of the pair of glasses of sun to the cufflinks, via all the discs, posters in concerts and books on Brel.
But most extraordinary in this passion of Brel, it is a new passion for the dioramas and the models, putting in scene the life of Brel. Always realistic models and which make it possible Alain to animate the exposures that he proposes in whole France, and even abroad.
All this research and this passion enabled him to meet some friends of Brel, of which François Rauber (the orchestrator of Brel) and Jean Corti (one of the composers of Brel), and among those, a woman particularly touched it: Alice Pasquier, the wife of Jojo, the secretary and confidant missing in 1974.
In the course of the months and years, one learnt to know, to respect himself, to use, to bear himself, to support himself.