AS a journalist based in London for the past 40 years, I have seen many colleagues come and go.
Farewells and welcoming dinners for colleagues, no matter which media they were from, were usually held at the New Straits Times apartment in Bayswater.
I clearly remember the farewell dinner we had for the late Daniel Chan in September 1996. He was the NST London correspondent between 1995 and 1996 and since this happened 24 years ago, a few things are still vivid in my memory about the gentle and friendly Daniel.
It was one cold morning when we were gathered at Biggin Hill airport in the London Borough of Bromley, south-southeast of Central London for an assignment across the channel.
I was excited until I saw the plane that would fly us across the English Channel to Le Touquet in northern France.
It was a 10- seater Cessna carrying mostly big hefty journalists with heavy equipment to record for posterity Malaysia's first national car test drive on French roads. From the Malaysian media team, I was there for Radio Television Malaysia, Haliza Hashim for TV3, Baharom — now Datuk Baharom Mahusin, Sinar Harian group editor — for Utusan Malaysia, and Daniel Chan for the NST.
Before we boarded the plane, Daniel bought a box of chocolates. We stopped to take a group photograph and I remember distinctly Daniel with his famous peace sign. The Cessna didn't look as if it could carry all of us.
I was worried. Baharom went quiet. We soon settled down for a couple of hours flight across the English Channel praying for good weather. But it was not to be. I looked out of the window and saw the English Channel below. It was choppy!
The plane was going up and down like a yoyo, occasionally swerving from side to side. Baharom, sitting behind me, went deathly white while I held hands with Haliza throughout the journey. However, Daniel was grinning like a boy.
Being the generous soul that he was, he started passing around his box of chocolates. A chocoholic that I was, I couldn't stomach anything during the turbulence. But when Daniel got out of his seat to hand over the box to the pilot, I just had to stop him.
That was Daniel.
The "ordeal" was one big adventure for him, while the rest of us had vowed not to take the small plane to return to London.
Most of my memories of working with Daniel were prodded by Baharom, who maintained his friendship with him even after their stints in London.
"Daniel Chan," remembers Baharom, "was a keeper of memories and by virtue of this, a most detailed person. This was most evident when I visited him at his house in Petaling Jaya and witnessed his fastidious attention to his comics, mementoes, photos and even his personal belongings.
"All of his collections, including his 40-year-old comics, were wrapped neatly in plastic. These comics were priceless to him. He lived simply and treated all his friends with respect and helped them with sincerity."
Baharom remembers Ribena as Daniel's favourite drink. There were boxes and boxes of the drink at the flat. The late Datuk Ahmad A. Talib, the then associate editor of the NST, had confirmed that during his visit to the flat, Daniel waited with a carton of Ribena in one hand and a tissue in the other.
He'd wait until the boss finished the drink, to replenish it in a flash. When (former NST group editor) Rashid Yusof came to replace him as the newspaper correspondent and take over the flat, he remembered the place being in pristine condition.
"When I took over from him, that was the first time I spoke to him. He was already a big name because of Comicscene, his long running weekly column in the NST. Iwas scared to talk to him then. But when I did, I found that he was so friendly and so proper," remembered Rashid.
"A very meticulous guy," agreed Hoo Ban Khee, who was with The Star in London.
"Once I visited him at the NST office and was amazed how neat the old newspapers were bundled up."
However, Ho remembered a vulnerable side of Daniel, quite the opposite of the one I witnessed on the flight to Le Touquet.
"We went on assignment to test drive a Jaguar. Baharom was driving. Daniel was so scared and kept urging him to slow down."
My husband, Wan Ahmad Hulaimi, who was then reporting for Bernama, has this to say: "Daniel Chan had the expression of someone who was constantly bemused.
"He was an unlikely person thrown into the harsh world of reporting, for behind that puzzled expression was a benign person with never a harsh word for anyone. Daniel was so deeply into his comic books, he never got out of them. He lived his life well, in his own terms and we were privileged to know him."
Daniel, who died at the age of 66, will always live in my memory handing out chocolates with a big smile, as our small plane flew in the turbulence.