Jeremy David Jonathan Shaw 10.9.1950 – 19.12 2015

A VOICE FROM BEYOND THE BARROW

By now my ashes should be safely tucked up in the All Cannings Long Barrow. This was constructed by an enterprising farmer who is certainly taking his diversification seriously and was the first to be constructed in the UK for a couple of thousand years. I was so tickled by this when I heard about it in 2014, when it was being finished, that I bought a niche - enough for six urns. Jolly good value too if you get full utilisation.

Prior to that I fancied a woodland burial, but these places are still quite thin on the ground. I loved walking around the Marlborough downs, the Kennet Long Barrow and places like that and I really liked what the farmer had done so it appealed to me.

For this gig I set about looking for a suitable poem but it seemed impossible to find the right one. They are either too religious, too cheesy or too Pollyanna - or too steam-rollered by repetition.

I did quite like this by Gitanjali Ghei - Farewell My Friends

It was beautiful as long as it lasted, the journey of my life, I have no regrets whatsoever, save the pain I'll leave behind.

Those dear hearts who love and care, and the heavy with sleep ever moist eyes, the smile in spite of a lump in the throat and the strings pulling at the heart and soul,

The strong arms that held me up when my own strength let me down, each morsel that I was fed with was full of love.

At every turning of my life I came across good friends, friends who stood by me, even when the time raced me by.

Farewell. farewell my friends, I smile and bid you goodbye.

No, shed no tears, for I need them not, all I need is your smile, If you feel sad, do think of me, for that's what I'll like, when you live in the hearts of those you love, remember; then you never die.

Hmm, still a bit cheesy.

Those who know me well will be thinking “Typical Jeremy, declaiming it while disclaiming it too.” Fair comment - do like to have things both ways when I can - don’t you? I have also lumbered whoever ends up reading this with deciding how to pronounce the author’s name - I’ve no idea.

What her poem omits is the fantastic support and love I’ve had from my family. I’ve always been amazed at how wonderfully our children have turned out with me as a father as I always felt I did not give them enough time in those early tough years when I was struggling financially. And I have always been grateful for the loyalty and support of Léonie who has joined in my wilder schemes like “let’s sell up and sail”. The love and practical I have had from Léonie, Jonathan and Jessica has been wonderful, as has the support and love of my mother, my brother Antony and his family, not to mention wonderful friends and neighbours.

I think all parents probably feel they did not do all they could for their children and, in truth, I have few other regrets with which to wallpaper my little barrow chamber. But it was striking to me that when a Registrar at the hospital in Februry 2015 first said “You have renal cancer” but then did not go on to say “However we caught it early and success rates are pretty good etc.”, then the first thought that came to me was “I won’t be there to be a great and loving grandfather for the grandchildren”. That was the last job I fancied for my CV.

Overall I think I have been very lucky in life. But I do believe that you make your own luck too so I claim some credit; how much who cares? And lucky too to have all you lovely people here today. After my earlier remarks I am conscious that perhaps I have teetered on the maudlin and cheesy myself, but this really is intended to be a fun day so please help make it so and enjoy yourself.

Thank you.JDJS

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In celebration of the life of Jeremy Shaw

Welcome, everybody.

I am Paul Kitcatt and I had the privilege of being Jeremy’s business partner for the last 15 years.

You won’t be surprised to hear we had clear instructions from Jeremy about today.

This is how he prefaced them:

‘The first principle to assert is that I don’t really care about my funeral. After all I won’t be there.’

Of course, he then went into a lot more detail. And showed that while he didn’t care about the occasion, he did care very much about you – about making sure you could speak if you wanted, or not if you didn’t, and that you were fed and watered and looked after.

What he envisaged was a celebration and he went so far as to call it a cabaret.

However, he also said he was happy for us to override his wishes.

I take that with a hefty pinch of salt. Knowing Jeremy, what he meant was, ‘You can override me if you can present a more logical argument in favour of an alternative plan.’

Well, we have made a few changes, but not to the spirit of the occasion. As I have said, he was clear this was to be a celebration and nothing like a traditional funeral.

So despite the fact this building is not much like a cabaret club, and is much more like the venue for a sombre funeral, let’s try for a joyful celebration. A cabaret, even!

I should just add that Jeremy made no provision for dancing girls and we haven’t dared override him on that. Sorry.

But what we do have is a number of people who wish to stand up and speak about him.

Jeremy once said to me, ‘You know, the modern idea is you should just let your feelings out. But I really think it’s much better if they stay bottled up.’

Well, I’m sorry Jeremy. Today our feelings aren’t likely to stay bottled up.

I met him in 1999. I’d left my job and was looking around for a new one when I got a call from a head-hunter. He told me there was an agency looking for a Creative Director, with good clients etc. etc., but that the agency had a terrible reputation. He was very cagey about who they were.

A few days later, I rocked up to the place, as Jeremy himself would put it. And I was shown into a very posh meeting room, given a cup of tea and so on. Then in walked Jeremy.

My first thought was, ‘Is this Will Carling?’ – the former England Rugby captain and ‘friend’ of Princess Diana. A bit of a surprise to find him running a direct marketing agency, but you never know.

But of course the man I was meeting was Jeremy. And if Will Carling is anything like Jeremy, then he’s a very fine man indeed. I immediately liked him, and we got on very well. He later said to me, ‘I could see you were a grown-up,’ which I now know was one of Jeremy’s highest terms of praise.

I did, ridiculously, check out his rugby credentials and he told me he couldn’t stand the game. Which endeared him to me even more.

We started working together, both of us new into this agency. And I found myself shoulder to shoulder with him in a battle to sort out an agency which was badly broken. That’s not quite how he put it. But what we both learnt fairly quickly was that the agency was still being shafted, on a pretty regular basis, by the ad agency that owned it.

And so one memorable morning I came in to find Jeremy evincing all the signs of great anger and anxiety. Which for him meant he looked exactly the same as usual, but was slightly more terse.

What had happened was the ad agency had gone out and bought yet another lame duck agency and merged it into ours, for the second time in six months. And this time presented Jeremy with a new MD to be his equal partner.

His summary, unforgettably, was, ‘This really is a pile of poo too far.’

I said, ok, let’s both resign. It’s never going to get any better. And why don’t we start an agency together?

And he said, ok, let’s do it.

I’d had this idea for a while, but – and you may find this shocking – in the world of advertising and marketing, you don’t meet many people who you can trust. Certainly not in senior positions. I know, I know – surprising, but sadly true.

But Jeremy was a man I trusted, absolutely. Always, and quite rightly.

We founded an agency and it became Kitcatt Nohr Alexander Shaw and it was pretty successful.

My wife once said the partners at KNAS were like the officers on the Starship Enterprise. And it’s obvious that Jeremy was Mr Spock.

He prized logic and he considered himself to be entirely logical. He once invited me to dinner at his flat in Kennington and he said, ‘Léonie’s not there, but don’t worry – I’ve invented a new kind of dinner party.’

I rocked up on the appointed evening and he served a succession of dishes in foil trays. It became obvious pretty quickly he hadn’t cooked them, just heated them up.

I said, ‘These are from M &S, aren’t they?’

‘Yes,’ he said.

‘So your new kind of dinner party is one where you buy pre-cooked food from a supermarket and serve it?’

‘Yes,’ he said. ‘But I’m not pretending I cooked it. And think about it logically: Léonie’s not here; M & S are better cooks than I am; the food is much better than if I tried, and you like it. Don’t you?’

‘Yes, of course.’

‘Well then. And I didn’t make the wine, either, but I did choose it.’

Irrefutable.

And I’m sure he would have agreed with this reasoning from Einstein, sent to a recently widowed friend:

"He has left this strange world a little before me. This means nothing. People like us, who believe in physics, know that the distinction made between past, present and future is nothing more than a persistent, stubborn illusion."

That was sent to me by Simon Robinson, who worked with Jeremy for many years.

He also applied Spock-like logic to his role in our agency. You will know that the phrase ‘he doesn’t suffer fools gladly’ might have been coined specifically for Jeremy. So when we started up, we all agreed he shouldn’t be put in front of clients.

I should say, he had spent many years seeing clients in the past. And the thing is, his patience had worn a bit thin. I’m not suggesting all clients are fools – far from it. But it can happen that a client arrives in an agency and brings with them someone who looks about 12, and that person starts to speak with all the authority that youth, inexperience and a thick skin can bestow, and it can be somewhat trying. And Jeremy had started to betray his feelings a little in such circumstances.

So we all thought we’d rather not run the risk of him encountering any fools and not suffering them gladly, especially if they had money to spend with us.

He knew himself well. He took on the role of oiling the machinery behind the scenes at the agency, making sure it ran smoothly while the other partners did the front of house stuff.

He did this so well he was even able to leave us to it for a time while he set off sailing round the world with Léonie. Of course he kept in touch and thus earned the nickname ‘Captain Off Shore.’

He came back later, to help us steer our own ship. He was never the public face of our agency. He was our best kept secret.

All the people who do the hard work in agencies – cleaners, receptionists, office managers, HR, finance – the least glamorous jobs – reported to Jeremy.

All of them found him at first a little forbidding. Perhaps even scary. But they all came to love him.

Because he was kind, generous, fair, thorough, attentive and never made anyone feel they didn’t matter.

This is what one colleague – a young account handler called Steven Jefferys - said of him:

‘I respected him hugely. He had the air of a man who'd been there and done it but he also wore it lightly. I always felt very at ease going to him and he was patient, calm and methodical in his approach. I remember one specific occasion when I was having an awful time grappling with the complexities of some client business. We were hugely exposed but Jeremy - perhaps sensing my worry - was understanding and pragmatic in his advice. He put me at ease and we sorted it out. It would've been so easy to knee jerk but he didn't flinch. What a legend.’

King James the First said, ‘I can make a lord, but only God can make a gentleman.’

God did a good job with Jeremy. He was that most old-fashioned thing, a gentleman.

And though it would make him uncomfortable to hear us say it, we loved him for it.

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Jeremy Shaw. Agency legend, Realia Yoda, my friend.4/01/16Saturday 19th December 2015 witnessed the sad passing of Jeremy Shaw; the best agency man

I ever had the honour and pleasure of working for and with.

It was 1998 when I first met Jeremy – he was MD of Carlson and I was an ambitious young

Account Manager who had made the leap from the provinces to the bright lights of London

agency life. To be honest I don’t remember much about my interview other than just what an

imposing and impressive figure he was and in turn just how naïve I was. A little later he

employed me again. This time he was the CEO at 141 and thanks to account structures I was

able to spend more time with him than any SAM would normally.

JEREMY SHAW, A TRULY GREAT AGENCY MAN

He went his way (mostly on a yacht) and I went mine (mostly on a train) but we always kept in

touch. He was part of the team that launched Kitcatt Nohr Alexander Shaw, which rapidly

became one of the UK’s preeminent CRM agencies. A couple of years later I launched Realia,

admiring the work KNAS did, and from time to time picked Jeremy’s brains on what to do next.

In January 2014 Jeremy kindly agreed to work with us. The following 18 months were the most

valuable in my career and a great deal of the success we have enjoyed since is down to the

advice and support of that brilliant man. Every member of Team Realia is richer for his guidance

and poorer for his sad passing.

It was a real shock both professionally and personally when in June 2015 Jeremy announced

that he would have to ‘retire’ following his diagnosis with cancer earlier in the year. I knew he was

poorly but couldn’t anticipate just how ill he would become in such a short space of time. I even

told him he HAD to be our Chairman when he recovered!

We kept in constant contact, thanks mainly to his blog ‘KidLung’ which for me was the epitome of

the man. The honesty, stoicism and humour he demonstrated in writing the blog was humbling. It

could not have always been easy to document his illness and yet he did, not for his benefit but

for the benefit of his friends – he understood they wanted to know but couldn’t find it that easy to

ask. He understood human nature better than anyone I have ever known. I often ask myself ‘How

would Jeremy respond?’.

Nicola and I visited Jeremy and Léonie in August and spent a wonderful afternoon talking,

drinking and eating. Although he had lost weight and suffered from shortness of breath, I still left

genuinely believing he would be ok.

I am extremely grateful to Jeremy, Léonie and Jonathan for allowing me to visit again in late

December; as it turned out just days before his death. He was clearly in horrible pain but still his

first priority was our wellbeing. He even asked how a family members’ cancer treatment was

progressing. His generosity of heart, soul and intellect was extraordinary.

I consider myself lucky to have been able to work for and with such a wonderful man. He was an

agency man who commanded huge respect. He was my Yoda; guiding and encouraging and

giving me the belief in my ability to drive forward. And I’m proud to call him a friend.

RIP Jeremy. If there is such a thing as marketing agency sanity, he was it. May his blueprint for

life and agency living continue. It will at Realia.

PW, January 2016

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For Jeremy

I worked with Jeremy for nearly 20 years. That’s most of my working life to date. Jeremy started out as my boss. In fact he was my boss twice: at Smith Bundy Carlson and then at 141/Bates. It was after following him from one agency to another (some might call it stalking) that we decided we might make good business partners (along with a couple of others, of course). But I am not going to tell you tales of Kitcatt Nohr Alexander Shaw. Others have done that – and better than I could.

In 1999 Jeremy gave me a gift. He gave me a CD called ‘The boy with the Arab strap’ by a little known indie pop group called Belle & Sebastian. Who knew? It was when he was leaving SBC and he and I were both terribly sad about his departure. I was my usual jibbering wreck. He was restraint personified.

He had also included a personal message and an extract from TE Lawrence’s The Seven Pillars of Wisdom – Lawrence of Arabia to most of us. It is this piece that I will share with you.

All men dream, but not equally.Those who dream by nightIn the dusty recesses of their mindsWake in the day to find it was vanity:But the dreamers of the day are dangerous men, For they may act their dreams with open eyesTo make them possible.

In his accompanying message to me he encouraged me to Be Dangerous!

I will let you discover the joys of Belle & Sebastian for yourselves. It is surprisingly worth it and I am still not sure how Jeremy came to know of them. Perhaps the family can elaborate. I still listen to this CD often in the car and my children now request Belle & Sebastian too.

But back to Jeremy. He was my boss. He was also my business partner. But most importantly he was someone I trusted, admired and looked up to. He was my friend. I was and shall always remain very fond of Jeremy Shaw. He holds a very special place in my heart. He was always generous with his time and his wisdom. And I will endeavour to continue to dream and to also be dangerous.

Vonnie Alexander

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Marc Nohr: 5 Things I will miss about Jeremy.

His wisdom

I first encountered Jeremy when he sat on the board of Burnett's over 20 years ago, alongside George Smith. I was a young whipper snapper and I’d never encountered two men quite like them. Both incredibly wise– albeit very different. Jeremy wore a blazer, drove a big blue BMW, and looked and talked like a captain of industry. George was altogether more of a geezer, a former Lambeth Counselor with the linguistic skills of his namesake and inspiration George Orwell.

It was that wisdom of Jeremy that made it a no brainer to go into partnership with him. As the elder statesman of KNAS when it was established in 2001, he understood more about business and arguably about life too. He was the reference we sought when the answers were not straightforward. And now I find myself counselling over-eager 20-somethings with some of Jeremy’s wise words unconsciously coming out of my mouth.

His intellect

Jeremy was not only wise but bloody clever. A Cambridge grad he had an interest in almost everything. And even when I went to see him and Léonie a week before he passed away, we discussed technology, travel, food, business and a host of other subjects – his energy clearly dulled but his intellect as sharp as ever. This intellectual acuity also explained his love of learning and of teaching others. In the later years of our agency he became almost professorial, championing as he did our internal learning academy and revelling in teaching a range of subjects from understanding company accounts to negotiation skills.

His pessimism

Jeremy would have described it as “realism”. But, either way, he would have been the first person to insist that any eulogy was not too rose-tinted and gave a true flavor of what he was like.

Partly as a result of his wisdom, his intellect and a sometimes cautious nature Jeremy could be amusingly pessimistic. He knew what could go wrong and he’d be the first one to point it out. A newly won account would be gone within the year, he’d predict. A newly promoted executive would be headhunted. A stunning financial performance would be shortlived. He was at times maddeningly sure of his opinion. And, rather irritatingly he was often right. Which meant that on the odd occasion when he was wrong it was the cause of much mirth for the rest of us and we would rib him mercilessly.

His integrity

Jeremy was a rock. Utterly dependable, especially when things went wrong and, although he was a clever strategist, when it came to getting the right outcome he never sought to deceive and you could always rely on him to do the right thing. You could also rely on him to tell you it like it was – which I learnt to my cost a couple of times when I asked him for direct

feedback on something I’d done. I’d have emerged crest fallen from some of those encounters, if it wasn’t for the fact that. Jeremy cared about doing the right thing and everyone knew it. His integrity shines out in all the tributes written about him online over recent weeks.

His shirts

When I first met the Blue 5-series BMW driving Mr Shaw, he not only stood out because of the aforementioned attributes but also because of his shirts. He wore checked ones – not lumberjack shirts but smart ones. Which struck me as altogether quite posh. In later years, when he discovered a tailor who could knock up 5 shirts for a bargain price, he often suggested I visit his tailor and get some myself. I think he could tell that I wasn’t entirely convinced and had an attachment to particular brands.So he reminded me every time that the tailor had a range of fabrics and the shirts really were good value. He had an eye for a bargain.

Jeremy was a kind, clever and deeply caring person, a gifted businessman and a good friend.

This is a celebration of his life so I’ll avoid being too nostalgic or sentimental – it wasn’t the Jeremy way anyway. But to his loving and wonderful family, who it was a great pleasure to get to know over the years, I’ll finish with an insight from the Talmud (the central work of Jewish Law). When a person passes away they are said to die twice. Once when they stop breathing. And again when we forget them. As today shows, in that second sense, Jeremy is still very much with us.

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Jeremy and the Lame Ducks

Paul tells the story how early in 2000 Jeremy had to tackle the onslaught of a small flock of 'lame duck' agencies that were forced on him by mergers and acquisitions at Cordiant Group.

Cordiant had bought a fairly ramshackle gang of companies that had been carefully polished up to sell and Jeremy had to confront the reality of what those companies had in them of value.

Paul describes the cool and measured way Jeremy sorted it out.

And as one of those lame ducks I feel the need to speak on behalf of all of them and express our gratitude for everything Jeremy did for us at a rather difficult time.

And how Jeremy sheltered us from the fall out, once the glow of holding company optimism faded, and they worked out the reality of what they'd bought.

As a mere freelancer in that shambles I was marked for a swift exit.

Jeremy with his legendary objectivity defused the tension and persuaded the holding company management to focus on the value of the business I controlled and  give me a contract of employment that locked me in.

So the very thin ice I had landed on became significantly firmer thanks to his kindness and his objective businesslike approach.

And that balance of human warmth and generosity of spirit and a very cool head gave me the platform to push my career on.

I owe it to Jeremy that I was able to build a portfolio of client business that has kept me going for the last 15 years.

I also hold my present role as a direct result of an opportunity Jeremy connected me and Vonnie to in a major charity.

Net net - it's quite simple Jeremy helped me turn my life around.

And that was the mark of the man: clever, kind, thoughtful with a great business intellect blended with a generous and warm spirit. A real champion of the lame duck.

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Despite the fact that I have been through Jeremy’s pitch perfect process a couple of times now, there is a chance this humble bag carrier may make an utter balls up of this in front of so many industry leaders, so I apologise in advance!

When we conducted the brand wheel exercise for our agency we all had to describe the brand we had most synergy with as an individual. Jeremy said Bristol Cars because they were perfectly understated. So understated in fact that none of us had heard of them! I can now absolutely see why though he would pick that brand.

Just like the internal combustion engine, marketing has evolved to an unprecedented level of performance, driven by people like Jeremy who could see that whilst the fundamentals probably remain the same, everything can be improved. And just like Bristol Cars, Jeremy was able to build extraordinary examples of perfection in his people, the organisations he touched and in agency life.

Whilst Bristol Cars was his choice, I think there a number of other brands that we could relate to Jeremy. Maybe Nike because he ‘Just did it’. BMW perhaps? He was certainly our ‘Ultimate Driving Machine’. Or even Apple, because thanks to him we were able to ‘Think different’. I’ll resist the temptation to align him with Gillette, Coca-Cola or Loreal although he was the best an ad man can get and the real thing. Probably because I’m worth it.

It’s nearly 20 years since I first met Jeremy – I was the ??? he was MD of Carlson and I was an ambitious young Account Manager who had made the leap from the provinces. I was lucky to go on to work for him again at 141 and so when he started Shawpath I was extremely keen for him to work with us.

And so, thanks to his generosity of heart, soul and intellect (he certainly didn’t do it for the money!), he would, once a month, make the long journey to Kent to help me and the team, as well as deal with my often daft emails and calls. All because he was passionately interested in helping make us better. Every member of Team Realia is richer for his guidance and poorer for his sad passing.

I consider myself lucky to have been able to work for and with such a wonderful man. He was in my opinion one of the great agency men who commanded huge respect and I’m proud to be able call him a friend. If there is such a thing as marketing agency sanity, he was it and so may his blueprint for life and agency living continue.

Paul Williamson, Realia

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Jeremy was always Jay to me. Although that is not strictly true. When he was little he couldn’t say my name Antony so he called me Nini. It irritated the hell out of me, so I retaliated by calling him Curly.

But he soon became Jay. Brother, childhood playmate and a loyal friend. And he remained Jay, brother and friend as an adult - always there when you needed him.

When my wife died, Jay wrote and delivered her tribute.

With the obvious modification - the words passed his almost lips ten years ago, crafted from his heart, and honed by his mind, seem apposite today.

Let us be glad that he lives on in us and in our memories. Let us be glad that he will live on forever. In his children and in his children’s children down through generations to come.He lives and he will live on. Not just in their genes; not just in the turn of a head or the sweep of an arm, but in all the things he has taught them and shown them. He lives on in the values and principles they have imbued from him, since the days of their birth. I am sad, but most of all I am glad. Glad to have known him, glad to have loved him and glad to see him live on in the soul of his family.”

Antony Shaw, Q.C.

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I spent a while wondering what to say today, considering whether I should say anything at all. Then I decided to stop with dithering and dilly-dallying – two things Jeremy never seemed to do. I think Jeremy would encourage me to stand up and give whatever I want to say, a chance to be heard.

I wondered what anecdotes I could share that would shine a new light on the quirks we all knew and loved. I decided I would share my perspective of my uncle, as I grew up.

Until the age of 7 or so, my main observation was that Jeremy was a man who looked an awful lot like my Dad. I wasn’t aware that we had anything in common, although we did both live the Northern line, which was something. I remember being told when I was very young, gazing up at a neat, personalized cross-stitch in my bedroom, that my uncle Jeremy had done it. I just couldn’t picture my uncle wielding a needle and thread.

In my early teenage years, Jeremy stopped just being the man who looked like my Dad and became the extremely cool uncle who worked in advertising and helped me secure work experience at his firm (thanks to those who suffered my presence for 2 weeks of 15 year old me). He became ever cooler when he organised a singing Elvis to show up at my sisters 21st birthday party!

In my later teenage years, Jeremy became not just a cool relation but a practical one – whose common sense approach to helping to organise my mum’s funeral gave me a steely strength. As well as reading her eulogy, I remember clearly that he arranged a website to give everyone updates about her funeral. Something seemingly small but which, in its logic and practicality, lifted a big weight, as the house phone rang slightly less.

Practicality aside, Jeremy was playful and just a lot of fun to be around. He came armed with balloons to Dad’s 65th birthday, not to hang around the room but with the idea to play a prank on his older brother and fill his bed full of them, to give my old man a shock when he stumbled hopefully slightly drunk into his room after a meal.

When I reached my 20s Jeremy became, as clichéd as it sounds, a true guiding figure, a steadying hand. He seemed to face life full on and had an eye for seeing how something should be tackled. He enjoyed life and lived it! - whether that was sailing round the world, deciding to lay a floor or take up bread making with zeal and cooking (including a prawn and cauliflower dish which, I hope Léonie won’t mind me saying, she would rather forget). He didn’t do things by halves and was full of fun, intellect, wisdom and encouragement.

He didn’t do things by halves, was full of fun, intellect, wisdom and encouragement.

Olivia Shaw

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A Tribute to a Beloved Son from his mother, Beatrice

Dearest Jeremy, what can I say?

You lightened my life in every way.

As a little boy your laughing face,

Stays with me: none can replace.

Your thoughtful deeds as I grew old,

Your gifts and books and stories told.

The handles you put up to save me

When my wobbly steps betrayed me.

The lovely times we laughed and talked

As country lanes we sometimes walked.

I miss you so beyond all things

Of that but a glimpse this poem brings.

Rest in peace forever more

I loved you in my deep heart’s core.

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Memories – David Pocock

As Jeremy’s brother, Antony, shared in his words earlier, people “live on” in the memories we have of them.

Whenever someone dies in our family, we plant a tree. So, as I drive down our driveway, I pass a Deodera , in memory of my father in law and a lime tree that reminds me every day of my mother.

I was wondering what it would be in the future , that would trigger my memory of Jeremy.

This morning when I got up and made a cup of Decaffeinated Coffee, I remembered him – why – because it was he and Léonie who introduced me to the Nespresso Coffee machine. So Jeremy, every time I hit the button on the Nespresso, I will remember you.

I am probably the least known person at this gathering today, although I probably know more about Jeremy than most – I was his financial adviser.

As Paul said earlier, Jeremy didn’t suffer fools gladly, so I take it as a great compliment that I was his adviser for some 15 – 20 years. Not that it was a “normal” adviser/client relationship. I feel that I was probably no more than a financial “Facilitator” fulfilling Jeremys firm and well-reasoned instructions in the way that he wanted me to manage his finances.

Over the last few days, as Global stock markets have been tumbling, a fair number of clients have been calling me concerned about the value of their investments. For obvious reasons I have not had a call from Jeremy. I would have done - but for very different reasons. Jeremy had been predicting this fall for some time and would be irritated that his death has meant that he has missed it. He loved a “Bear” market and this week, he would have called to move money out of cash and into the markets.

When everyone else was selling – Jeremy would be buying.

When everyone else was buying – Jeremy would be selling.

Not to breach a client confidence, but his strategy has served him well over the years. I must confess that he may just have influenced my views, in terms of managing other people’s money !!

I always enjoyed our meetings. He would sit there with that glint in his eye and “wiry” smile (so well depicted in the invitation to this celebration) and ask me challenging and awkward questions, for no other reason than to wind me up !!

I will miss him enormously. Not so much because of our professional relationship, but I will miss his ongoing friendship.

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FROM AMERICA…

I am so sorry not to be able to attend the celebration of Jeremy’s life. When I learned of the

rapid progress of his illness I planned a visit to the UK in the Spring in hopes of visiting with

him, but Fate had other plans.

I will always think of my cousin Jeremy as “The Great Communicator”. He had an enviable

ability not only to turn an elegant phrase but to find the humor in just about anything. This

skill was amply illustrated in his blog, where his wit and resilient spirit shone through in

every entry. We kept up a lively e-mail correspondence over the years and Jeremy could

always be relied upon to respond promptly and eloquently to my e-mails within a few hours,

or sometimes even minutes despite the eight hour time difference. I sometimes wondered if

he slept with one eye open, focused on his email in-box.

Jeremy and I shared a love of sailing, travel and adventure. My husband Phil and I were

fortunate enough to spend two vacations in the Caribbean with Jeremy and Léonie on their

lovely catamaran, Zingano. Jeremy relished playing the gracious host and tour guide,

showing us destinations way off the usual tourist route, such as the islands of Saba and –

most memorably – Montserrat, still smoking and covered in ash from the massive volcanic

eruption which had destroyed the airport and capital city and caused two thirds of the

island’s population to flee. Fortunately we escaped the island unscathed.

Although I cannot be with you in person at Jeremy’s celebration, I will be raising a glass on

the 22nd to toast his passing and rejoice in a life well lived.

Katie HabeggerPort Townsend, Washington, USAJanuary 11 2016

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Jeremy was our neighbour – Sussie Spence

Like exotic migrating birds he and Léonie arrived in our road some years ago. Those of us who had flown this route before recognised their journey. We listened to their stories of travels on their boat, their return to England and Jeremy’s return to work. I am somewhat ashamed to admit now that I had, in a rather “customer profile-like” way thought quickly (to use an expression Jeremy would understand), got the cut of his jib.

For me their time with us falls into three phases, that I shall call:

The Arrival OR -- Not what we first appear The Project Phase OR – Will this man never take a break The Friendship OR – Active listening phase

The Arrival (Not what we first appear)

As I have said, The Arrival seemed on the surface like most of ours – initially lots of remodelling of the House and Garden. Looking back, I think most of us noted that Jeremy and Léonie had taste but it was his attention to detail that struck me most. The selection of kitchen and colours was approached like a military operation. The reconnaissance and information gathering were both exhaustive and exhausting!

It is during this phase that we started to realise how wrong our first impressions were. This was not a “London Exec “who paid others to do things for him. This was a “Master Builder with a tool box to rival that of any self-respecting ‘White Van Man’”. The reason Jeremy found it so hard to engage tradesmen was that he knew he could probably do the job better himself.

When, during their first harsh winter here, James and Jayne had frozen pipes he arrived on their doorstep faster than an emergency plumber charging double time. The problem was sorted with his encyclopaedic knowledge of frozen heating systems and his box of tricks.

The other surprise Jeremy had instore for us fairly early on was his poetry. On his first Burns Night here we had explained that it was the custom – for those who wanted to - to do a “turn”. Usually, although not always, an ode from “Rabbie” . Jeremy noted this and, without any hint of what he might do, arrived on the night with a “Burnsesque” poem, which he had clearly been crafting for the occasion with much thought and had us all in stiches. He loved the attention and would scribe a masterpiece and perform on many subsequent occasions.

The Project Phase

(Will this man never take a break/ never let a story get in the way of a good FACT)

From his Summer House - which gave us all “shed envy” – to the architectural drawings, the quantity surveyor-like approach to purveying his materials and the “master builder-like quality of his construction – complete with expletives that could be heard across the wall. We watched with awe.

With his community involvement with: the Friends of Monkton Park, the “No to the Range” and the Civic Society position he took up, Jeremy was not going to sit on the side-lines but engage with this community.

Here I must also note his veracious appetite for the “Facts”. Jeremy’s approach to every topic, including his illness, was an exhaustive quest for the facts. His opinions and actions thereafter were always backed up by these. Those of us who have enjoyed his conversations, fairly quickly realised that on almost any subject you might care to choose, he knew considerably more than you.

I do wonder how those Doctors felt when he would arrive for consultations with his “list of questions” and then proceed to record their responses so he could be sure he had all the FACTS. Those of us who followed his blog know how detailed this recording was!

Friendship(Active listening)

I shall now move on to what is the most precious phase to all of us - Friendship.Jeremy listened, then gave advice and opinions but, above all, he gave his support.

When I was going to interviews after deciding to return to work - he would turn up with somewhat daunting amounts of Market research on the companies I was seeing - to help.When friends opened their garden or had art exhibitions he would go. When Marc & Lisa and the Antiques Roadshow team where looking for picturesque settings for the show’s opening credits he was there. When Nigel was trying to raise money for his charity “Wellboring“ to provide clean water for schools in Kenya, he helped.

It is also during these “active listening sessions” that we learnt more about the things that mattered to Jeremy. Most importantly, how much his family meant to him. His love and pride in Jonathan and Jess and his grandchildren was clear as well as, of course, the real power behind the throne – Léonie. Their love and gentle support for him last year was extraordinary.

His acts of Kindness made him our friend, we loved him and we will miss him.I rather wish I had a glass in my hand to ask you to toast him –since almost all of our active listening sessions involved at least one glass!

To a Good Friend and a Great Neighbour

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JEREMY SHAW was one of the kindest, most thoughtful and talented men one could hope know. He actually thought about things and could bring fresh thinking to bear on almost any cultural matter. Being incredibly clever, he could hold a range of thoughts and knit them together into a compelling narrative. 

His skills were wide-ranging. One cold December, with a blocked kitchen waste pipe, we turned to Jeremy, hoping for a bit of help. He came with his tool set and worked through our pipes until finally he found the blockage, in the most remote place possible, and then cleared it and he did so gladly, with a smile throughout. Jeremy was reliability personified. 

He took up good causes, even causes where we were unlikely to succeed, and generously supported the water charity, WellBoring. In my experience, Jeremy always knew the right thing to do and he then did the right thing. All in all, this man was a credit to the human race. 

Nigel Linacre

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WHAT YOUR BOAT NEEDS

If your filters need cleaning and your rigging’s a pig;if your bridle’s come loose and your anchor won’t dig;

if you wake in the morning, the forecast just done;or you’ve o.d.’d your UV (too much in the sun);

if you need a meal cooked when you’re all feeling sick;electronics play up or the clocks cease to tick;

if you need Greek translation, or Spanish, or more...

then what your boat needs is a Jeremy Shaw!

Rod Mansfield

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Jeremy was a real inspiration for me. A shrewd and clever businessman, he was also honest and genuine and set such a strong example. He was a lovely man, patient and kind and generous too.

He was a great teacher and his training sessions where nothing short of brilliant. He drew parallels between the battles of ancient greece and contract negotiations; he showed us how the lessons from the sinking of the Titanic could be applied to clients and procurement; and his 60 min MBA was absolute genius (with chocolates for all correct answers, of course!).  

Jeremy taught me so much - not just the practical things but also how to go about things the right way and be true to yourself.

Nick Burbridge

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I READ OF A MAN who stood to speak at the funeral of a friend.

He referred to the dates on his casket from beginning to endHe noted that first came the date of his birth

and spoke of the following date with tears, but he said what mattered most of all was the dash between those years.

For that dash represents all the time that he spent alive on earthand now only those who loved him know what that

little line is worth.

For it matters not how much we own - the cars, the house, the cash.

What matters is how we live and love and how we spend the dash.

So think about this long and hard; are there things you would like to change?

For you never know how much time is left that can still be rearranged.

If we could just slow down enough to consider what is true and real and always try to understand the way other people feel.

And be less quick to anger and show appreciation more and love the people in our lives like we have never loved before.

If we treat each other with respect and more often wear a smile,Remembering that this special dash might only last a little while.

So when your eulogy is being read with your life’s actions to rehash...

Would you be proud of the things they say about how you spent your dash?

Would you be proud of the things they say about how you spent your dash?

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From Tenterden in Kent...

Jeremy was a man of very many talents, he had far more than his fair share. I first remember seeing Jeremy wearing one of his fetching, and always pristine, boiler suits perched up high on a ladder. He was painting or repairing the weatherboard of the family farmhouse in Cranbrook.The whole house, inside and out, was given the Shaw treatment and, ably assisted by Léonie, it was one of the first of their houses I knew to have been given the 'House Beautiful' look.

The Shaw family were kind enough to let us holiday in their water mill in Brittany.  On our first visit Jeremy gave us a demo of the water wheel working. He had totally repaired a wreck into a wonderful working machine.  George and I were very impressed, it was a great place to holiday, but we never touched the wheel!

And much later there was Zealy's house. That would have been a challenge to those expert television home renovators, but the house became both elegant and homely under Jeremy's toolkit and boiler suit.  The garden was beautiful, Léonie and Jeremy  made a fantastically creative team.

But Jeremy wasn't just a DIY star, he could manoeuvre a big boat across oceans and probably mend it too.  He loved a challenge and spoke passionately about his next project.

I always enjoyed time spent with Jeremy and Léonie, we had many teas in our gardens and meals out in Kent.

He was a kind and very caring friend during George's illness and to me after George died. I will remember him with great affection and admiration for what he has achieved in his life.

Stella Smith

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What is in the name Jeremy?

A name often used, stemming back to the Middle Ages, which l feel gives the owner strength, longevity and has succeeded in maintaining social presence as opposed to other names that have come and gone.

For example, l could not imagine Jeremy being called Melvyn or Nelson!Exploring further into the Hebrew derivation of the name one comes over Jeremy being acclaimed as being ' exalted of the Lord and/ or God will be uplifted. Maybe the above terms do fit this wonderful man in respect to his work, life in general and achievements that accompanied Jeremy on his 60 plus year journey we had the pleasure and privilege to learn about before and during his time in St Mary Street. Numerology philosophy into the name quotes that Jeremys have:

Deep inner desires and abilities in respect of leadership,Personal independence focussing on issues and, to some extent, delegating detail to others (especially Léonie's planting schemes and schedules!)

Jeremys also tend to be orderly (I suggest you look at his clean and tidy work shop and the precision pulley-system that was fitted for lowering and extracting his boat from the river Avon).

Jeremys value truth, judgement, discipline and build upon the management skills adding value to this material world. Alas his retirement was far too short and so Chippenham and this community lost out on his undoubted talents and the benefits he would have brought to us all.

Finally, farewell and love to a wise and lovely man who gave so much and valued life, especially to those who had the privilege to live on the other side of the wall from Zealy’s House. I will miss you.

Chris BW

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Jeremy David Jonathan Shaw : 1950 - 2015

Jeremy was born and brought up in Singapore until he was 7 when his parents returned to England. He was educated at Milner Court where he won a scholarship to the Kings School Canterbury. He started to read English at Trinity Hall but, after one year, decided to take a break which eventually became permanent.

After a few years as a salesman, Jeremy joined the direct marketing arm at Barnardo’s at the bottom, but rapidly became an invaluable employee, building his own early computer and learning basic processing on the way. He was headhunted by Oxfam before joining Smith Bundy (a direct marketing firm) in 1984 as Managing Director. He became Chairman, and when Smith Bundy was bought out in 1997, he joined Carlson, and then 141.

He then set up his own agency with three partners in 2002: Kitcatt Nohr Alexander Shaw eventually grew one of the most successful Direct Marketing agencies of the decade.

Despite a busy and successful career, Jeremy and his wife Léonie together with their two children, moved through a succession of run down period houses in Essex, Buckinghamshire, Kent and Kensington which they restored before moving on. Much of the work was done by Jeremy who learned the skills of rewiring, plumbing, plastering and carpentry as well as painting and decorating, all carried out to high professional standards.

In 2003 he decided that Kitcatt Nohr Alexander Shaw could operate without his immediate presence. He bought a catamaran and obtained a Sailing Masters Certificate. He and Léonie spent a year touring the Mediterranean before crossing the Atlantic as the start of a circumnavigation. However, they fell in love with the West Indies and got no further, spending the best part of three years sailing the islands and providing practical aid to Grenadians following the devastation caused by Hurricane Ivan.

Meanwhile Kitcatt Nohr Alexander Shaw grew. His partners called for his assistance. After 6 months commuting between London and the Caribbean, Jeremy returned to full time work. The business became very successful, eventually being bought by Publicis in 2011. Jeremy was then handed the role of CEO of Digitas, a sister agency, but finally retired in late 2014.

Retirement was never a quiet option for Jeremy. Apart from refurbishing another period home in Chippenham, he threw himself into community interests, becoming a burgher of the town, active in the Civic Society.

Jeremy died shortly before Christmas last year. His departure was as organised and as quirky as his life. His ashes were embarrowed (as he put it) in a niche in a recently built Long Barrow in Wiltshire and he wrote a light-hearted piece – Words from Beyongd the Barrow – to be read at the Celebration of his Life.

Jeremy was enormously respected in the direct marketing industry where his dry humour and ready smile won him many friends. The same qualities together with his wide practical experiences made him immensely popular with his neighbours and friends. His tastes and interests were eclectic; he was always a jack of all trades, but a master of many.

He is survived by his wife Léonie and his children Jonathan and Jessica and two grandchildren.

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Spooner on… memories of the unique Jeremy ShawJanuary 26, 2016 – Precision Marketing

I am writing my latest, irregular column on the train between Tangible’s eccentric and characterful London HQ and our sleek, modern hub in leafy Cheltenham Spa. The skies are heavy with as yet unfallen rain as is my heart at the news of the death of Jeremy Shaw.

It seems only yesterday that I was lamenting the departure of George Smith from our sorry Vale Of Tears in this very publication – and now, far too soon and at far too young an age, it is time for Jeremy to pay the eternal ferryman his inevitable toll for the one-way journey we all must take across the Styx.

I would like to tell two Jeremy stories; one that others may already have mentioned; and another, for the which, I was the only witness. They both speak to his unique character and, perhaps, offer insights we could all benefit from.

Who can forget the Great Storm of 1987?A cost of at least £2 billion to the UK insurance industry – and a career defining moment for Michael Fish.

But what I remember it for is Jeremy Shaw.

At the time, Jeremy was living in Kent. As many will know, Jeremy had a forces background. So when the storm broke – and the nation stayed at home the following day – Jeremy decided to drive to work. Naturally, being the kind of gentleman that he was, Jeremy drove a Bristol. So Jeremy simply loaded his chainsaw into the Bristol’s capacious boot and drove to London. Whenever Jeremy encountered a tree across the road, he applied the chainsaw. By the time he had reached the North Western corner of Kent, Jeremy had acquired a convoy of some twenty-seven motorists all following him as he methodically removed the various obstructions from the road.

I think of this whenever work is less than enjoyable: this ‘work’ is something that Mr Shaw was prepared to use his chainsaw to get to.

My second Jeremy Shaw story is even more instructive.

Photo courtesy of Phil Keevill

It would have been spring of 1988 and as the new, ‘thrusting’, FS-literate Smith Bundy copywriter, I was selected to pitch with Jeremy for the Sears store card business. For reasons lost in the mists of time, Peter Minta, the SAD, was unable to attend, so off Jeremy and I trolled to an enormous boardroom (possibly even the Selfridges boardroom) somewhere north of Oxford Street.

We presented board after board of exquisitely designed direct mail packs displaying work, which in 1988, was state-of-the-art in terms of segmentation, personalisation and appropriateness. The assembled client group (50% humourless US executives, 50% terrified UK employees) remained obdurately silent throughout the presentation, not even cracking the frostiest of smiles.

Jeremy concluded with some chairmanly remarks and opened the floor to discussion.Silence. Low hum of traffic. Rustling of paper. Silence.

“Right!” said Jeremy.

He pushed back his chair and placed one foot upon it and the other upon the table.He then proceeded to ‘soft-shoe-shuffle’ his way up the highly-polished, mahogany board room table to within a few steps of the head client and then ‘soft-shoe-shuffled’ his way back again, stepped down onto his chair, and thence the floor and said…“You will remember Smith Bundy.”

We gathered our boards and left.

We did not win the business.

But I learnt a valuable lesson in how to behave with difficult clients.

His like will not be seen again.Jeremy Shaw, I salute you.

(Jonathan Spooner is executive creative director at Tangible)

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Precision Marketing article January 2016

Industry pays tribute to agency chief Jeremy Shaw

Senior figures in direct marketing have paid tribute to Jeremy Shaw, one of the industry’s most respected chiefs and co-founder of Kitcatt Nohr Alexander Shaw, who has passed away just two years after stepping down from the agency.

He started his marketing career in the charity sector, working for Oxfam, before taking up his first agency role at Smith Bundy & Partners in 1984. Formed by direct marketing legend, the late-George Smith, Jeremy Bundy and Carol Trickey a decade before, the agency was the stamping ground of many of today’s senior executives, including the likes of Terry Hunt, Jonathan Spooner, Chris Barraclough, Wanda Goldwag, and Mel Edwards (formerly Cruickshank).

Shaw spent over 13 years at the agency, eventually becoming chairman but left in 1997 for Carlson (now Aimia); a year later he joined 141 – the Bates-owned agency – and steered the company through a tempestuous merger period which sparked the resignations of nearly all the senior directors of both 141 and Bates.

At the time, the then vice-chairman of Bates UK Graham Green said: “Given all the people we’ve lost to date, I would rather have Jeremy than all the rest of them put together. In spite of all the crap we’ve had going on here, his reaction was great as he saw the job as a huge challenge.”

It was at 141 that Shaw first met Paul Kitcatt, but they both quit when 141 bought the sales promotion agency Communicator and merged its operations. The duo were reunited when Shaw took on the role of chairman of Burnett Associates and Lion, and brought Kitcatt in as executive creative director of both agencies, after initially backing his venture, Kitcatt & Co. It was during this time that Kitcatt and Shaw met Marc Nohr and Vonnie Alexander, and they launched Kitcatt Nohr Alexander Shaw in 2002 (pictured, right) with backing from Mentor, an investment company headed up by sales promotion stalwarts Colin Lloyd and Clive Mishon.

The business went on to be one of the most successful DM agencies of the past decade, eventually being bought by Publicis in March 2011. Shaw was then handed the role of chief operating officer at sister agency Digitas but both he and Nohr left in late 2014, followed by Kitcatt and Alexander last year.

Marc Nohr said: “Jeremy was a gent, a rock and a man with a keen intellect. He was deeply committed to mentoring and educating young talent, a person of absolute integrity, a gifted businessman and a good friend to the charity sector.”

Paul Kitcatt added: ” Jeremy was never the public face of our agency. He was our best kept secret. All the people who do the hard work in agencies – cleaners, receptionists, office managers, HR, finance – the least glamorous jobs – reported to Jeremy. “All of them found him at first a little forbidding. Perhaps even scary. But they all came to love him. Because he was kind, generous, fair, thorough, attentive and never made anyone feel they didn’t matter. He was a true gentleman and a man you could always trust.”

Chris Barraclough, who is now creative director at Orchestra, points out that at Smith Bundy, “we’d never really had anyone ‘proper’ like him before. For a start, he was the only employee who knew how computers worked”. He added: “Jeremy knew his stuff, too and was instrumental in helping the agency to grow in size and stature. He always worked with a dry humour, grace and a ready smile. Jeremy taught me a lot about how agencies work and about the disciplines of direct, for which I am eternally grateful. It was no surprise to me he went on to achieve even bigger and better things. He, like George Smith, was a huge part of my youth. Rest in peace, Jerrers.”

Paul Williamson, managing director at Realia Marketing, worked for Shaw at Carlson and 141. He said: “I consider myself lucky to have been able to work for and with such a wonderful man. He was an agency man who commanded huge respect. He was my Yoda; guiding and encouraging and giving me the belief in my ability to drive forward. And I’m proud to call him a friend. RIP Jeremy. If there is such a thing as marketing agency sanity, he was it. May his blueprint for life and agency living continue.”

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Kitcatt Nohr co-founder Jeremy Shaw diesby John Tylee – Campaign 25th Jan 2016

Jeremy Shaw, a founding partner of Kitcatt Nohr Alexander Shaw, one of the UK's most successful integrated agencies of the past decade, has died of cancer aged 65.

A memorial event was held on Friday after his death at his home in Chippenham, Wiltshire.

Having severed his link with the agency in 2014, two years after its sale to Publicis Groupe, Shaw was the chief executive of a consultancy that worked with agencies to provide business advice, mentoring, coaching and training.

After his cancer diagnosis in the spring of last year, he blogged under the name of Mr Kidlung about his life while undergoing treatment, writing his last blog little more than a month before his death.

Marc Nohr, his former business partner, said: "Where other people would have just given up Jeremy wrote very eloquently about what was happening to him."

With a direct marketing career that spanned three decades, Shaw built a reputation as a shrewd behind-the-scenes manager. He once told his partners: "You concentrate on building the profile – I’ll keep the trains running on time."

A Cambridge graduate, he began his career in the charity sector with Oxfam and Barnardo’s before joining Smith Bundy & Partners as managing director in 1984.

After 13 years at the agency, latterly as chairman, he spent a year at Carlson before his hiring by 141, the Bates-owned below-the-line unit.  He saw it through a tumultuous period that dogged its transformation into a fully integrated agency, a process that provoked a string of senior resignations.

It was his stint at 141 that brought him into contact with Paul Kitcatt, then the executive creative director. They quit the agency together in September 2000 subsequently linking with Nohr and Vonnie Alexander to launch Kitcatt Nohr Alexander Shaw in 2002 with investment company backing.

Away from the agency, Shaw was heavily involved with IPA initiatives on diversity – of which he was a passionate advocate – and continuous professional development.

After taking time out for go sailing for a year, he returned to assume the duties of chief operating officer before taking the title formerly at its Publicis sister agency, Digitas. He and Nohr quit in late 2014 to be followed soon afterwards by Kitcatt and Alexander.

Nohr said: "Jeremy wasn’t only a good businessman but a real grown-up who always offered a balanced opinion. He was a man of quick intellect and utter integrity and was always there for other people."

Shaw is survived by his wife, son and daughter and grandchildren.

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