I grew up a short walk from where he lived, in Bolton, and you'd often see him setting up all the gear, solo, at the base of one of the local chimneys. We'd pull over on our bikes and shout "Is it coming down Fred?". He never failed to stroll over and have a chat about what he was doing. A genuinely nice chap.

I lived real close to Fred's house for a while. Loved it. Bolton was way cool back then.