I knew Scott for exactly 30 years. He was a great friend and a truly unique person. There is a special reason I am writing this tribute today, more than 2 years after Scott's untimely death. This morning, when I awoke, for some strange reason, Scott came to mind. It made me think about all his admirable qualities and how much I miss him. I hadn't thought about him for some time. It brought a tear to my eye, much like it did when I spoke at his funeral. Remarkably, I received a spam email today from Scott's old hotmail address, some 2 hours after he came to mind. I am not a religious person, but it shook me up quite a bit when I went to check my incoming emails today and saw one from him. I don't know if there is any significance to that. But just maybe it's my old friend's way of letting me know he is aware I was thinking of him. Either way, I will never forget his generosity, intelligence and good humor.

I knew Scott for over twenty years and consider him one of the great friends of my life. Although our lives drifted apart and I didn't see him for the last five years of his life, I am devastated by the news and deeply ashamed that I wasn't there for him when he was in need. Even though I didn't call him I thought of him often, but our lives took such different paths and it was hard to keep in touch with four young children in the way. I first met Scott when a mutual acquaintance suggested that he could help as a tutor as I was struggling with the maths at university. We met once a week and pretty soon he was swapping coaching for dinner afterwards at one of the Balkan restaurants on Oxford St. He was a brilliant mathematician and had a real gift for simplifying and explaining complex ideas. He had a deep love of the elegance of mathematics and his enthusiasm rubbed off. I remember him as a brilliantly clever man with an incredibly wide knowledge of so many areas. He could talk endlessly about history or politics and it was often easier to shut up and listen rather than argue. He had a wonderfully dry sense of humour, whenever he got in the car he would make the same joke – “Now can I suggest just one thing before we go – don’t have an accident”, or halfway through dinner he would tell me to push my vegetables together to keep them warm. In the later years he developed a deep well of loneliness that he filled with cheap white wine, music and art. When I dropped him home he would often play a favourite piece and show me his art books. We developed an interest in photography around the same time. We shared so much together over 15 years of catching up once of twice a month. I feel devastated that he never called to tell me he was unwell, and I cant erase the shame of not being there to help him in the last few years of his life. Soren Dyne

I knew Scott for over twenty years and consider him one of the great friends of my life. Although our lives drifted apart and I didn't see him for the last five years of his life, I am devastated by the news and deeply ashamed that I wasn't there for him when he was in need. Even though I didn't call him I thought of him often, but our lives took such different paths and it was hard to keep in touch with four young children in the way. I first met Scott when a mutual acquaintance suggested that he could help as a tutor as I was struggling with the maths at university. We met once a week and pretty soon he was swapping coaching for dinner afterwards at one of the Balkan restaurants on Oxford St. He was a brilliant mathematician and had a real gift for simplifying and explaining complex ideas. He had a deep love of the elegance of mathematics and his enthusiasm rubbed off. I remember him as a brilliantly clever man with an incredibly wide knowledge of so many areas. He could talk endlessly about history or politics and it was often easier to shut up and listen rather than argue. He had a wonderfully dry sense of humour, whenever he got in the car he would make the same joke – “Now can I suggest just one thing before we go – don’t have an accident”, or halfway through dinner he would tell me to push my vegetables together to keep them warm. In the later years he developed a deep well of loneliness that he filled with cheap white wine, music and art. When I dropped him home he would often play a favourite piece and show me his art books. We developed an interest in photography around the same time. We shared so much together over 15 years of catching up once of twice a month. I feel devastated that he never called to tell me he was unwell, and I cant erase the shame of not being there to help him in the last few years of his life. Soren Dyne

I knew Scott for over twenty years and consider him one of the great friends of my life. Although our lives drifted apart and I didn't see him for the last five years of his life, I am devastated by the news and deeply ashamed that I wasn't there for him when he was in need. Even though I didn't call him I thought of him often, but our lives took such different paths and it was hard to keep in touch with four young children in the way. I first met Scott when a mutual acquaintance suggested that he could help as a tutor as I was struggling with the maths at university. We met once a week and pretty soon he was swapping coaching for dinner afterwards at one of the Balkan restaurants on Oxford St. He was a brilliant mathematician and had a real gift for simplifying and explaining complex ideas. He had a deep love of the elegance of mathematics and his enthusiasm rubbed off. I remember him as a brilliantly clever man with an incredibly wide knowledge of so many areas. He could talk endlessly about history or politics and it was often easier to shut up and listen rather than argue. He had a wonderfully dry sense of humour, whenever he got in the car he would make the same joke – “Now can I suggest just one thing before we go – don’t have an accident”, or halfway through dinner he would tell me to push my vegetables together to keep them warm. In the later years he developed a deep well of loneliness that he filled with cheap white wine, music and art. When I dropped him home he would often play a favourite piece and show me his art books. We developed an interest in photography around the same time. We shared so much together over 15 years of catching up once of twice a month. I feel devastated that he never called to tell me he was unwell, and I cant erase the shame of not being there to help him in the last few years of his life. Soren Dyne

I knew Scott for over twenty years and consider him one of the great friends of my life. Although our lives drifted apart and I didn't see him for the last five years of his life, I am devastated by the news and deeply ashamed that I wasn't there for him when he was in need. Even though I didn't call him I thought of him often, but our lives took such different paths and it was hard to keep in touch with four young children in the way. I first met Scott when a mutual acquaintance suggested that he could help as a tutor as I was struggling with the maths at university. We met once a week and pretty soon he was swapping coaching for dinner afterwards at one of the Balkan restaurants on Oxford St. He was a brilliant mathematician and had a real gift for simplifying and explaining complex ideas. He had a deep love of the elegance of mathematics and his enthusiasm rubbed off. I remember him as a brilliantly clever man with an incredibly wide knowledge of so many areas. He could talk endlessly about history or politics and it was often easier to shut up and listen rather than argue. He had a wonderfully dry sense of humour, whenever he got in the car he would make the same joke – “Now can I suggest just one thing before we go – don’t have an accident”, or halfway through dinner he would tell me to push my vegetables together to keep them warm. In the later years he developed a deep well of loneliness that he filled with cheap white wine, music and art. When I dropped him home he would often play a favourite piece and show me his art books. We developed an interest in photography around the same time. We shared so much together over 15 years of catching up once of twice a month. I feel devastated that he never called to tell me he was unwell, and I cant erase the shame of not being there in the last few years of his life. Soren Dyne

Scott Hayles was my best friend. He was a better friend than I deserved, and he was a much better friend than I could ever have been. That’s because he had an almost unlimited generosity. I met Scott about 30 years ago when he was sharing a house with some people I knew. I thought he was just a crazy guy with crazy hair and totally crazy eyebrows. But he was nice enough, and I liked him. After the house broke up, I didn’t see him for about five years, until he called me and wanted to catch up. He suggested we have lunch and I thought we all have to eat, so I was happy to go along. We had a good time and agreed to do it again the following week, and then the one after that, and then the one after that. Eventually we would have dinner together a couple of times a week. I would go to his place and listen to his music, or he would come to mine and watch television, because he hated my music. I mentioned his generosity, but Scott was a complex person. He lived a frugal life. He would deprive himself of luxuries he could well afford, because he was always concerned about the future. And yet, when any of his friends needed assistance, he was there for them. He helped me out on numerous occasions and not just financially either. He supported me through times of ill health, depression and worse. He was only ever a phone call away. I used to enjoy our heated debates. We did have words, mine were usually louder than his. In fact, I don’t recall Scott ever raising his voice. Instead, what he would do is get to a certain point, then get up out of his chair and slowly move towards me with oustretched arms… as if he was about to strangle me. Scott used to joke that we would end up together in a nursing home, shaking our walking-sticks at each other. But of course, that wasn’t to be. I first learned that Scott was unwell about two years ago. He had avoided telling me, because he was worried how I would react. I reacted as he expected me to. But we had many discussions and I think he was generally optimistic. He was certainly very brave. Scott Hayles was a good son, a good brother and uncle, and a great friend. He was more than my friend, he was my soul-mate. And I loved him.