Obituary
Alastair was born in Fort William, Ontario to William Colquhoun and Muriel MacIvor. After early schooling in that city he attended university in Montreal before graduating from Lakehead University. He pursued a post-graduate diploma in Arts Administration and spent many years working in that field as general manager of the Calgary Boys’ Choir and then as curator of the Old Court House art gallery in Red Deer.
Although generally known as a quiet, cerebral type, well-informed and well-read, Alastair also loved nature, animals, sports and music of every ilk. He once rode his ten-speed bicycle from Montreal to Thunder Bay, a grueling trek of over 1000 miles, and he was a keen and excellent cross country skier. In later years his interest and skill in writing was evident and he took inspiration from lengthy walks near his Reid Road home.
As an avid reader and writer, Al belonged to and attended writing groups, believed in the importance of religious values and attended church. Conversation with him could meander into a range of subjects from politics, to literature, to art and classical music. His knowledge was wide ranging, perhaps even encyclopaedic. Often he was a quiet man though he appreciated and enjoyed conversation and company.
Always acknowledging his strong Scots heritage, Alastair wore the Colquhoun tartan with pride.
Left to mourn his memory are his sister Marion Bender of Redlands, California; numerous cousins throughout Canada; and his former spouse Norma-Jean Colquhoun of Edmonton.
A Funeral Service to celebrate Alastair’s life will be held at a later date.
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Our most sincere sympathies to the family and friends of Alastair Lorne Colquhoun March 11 1950 May 10 2020 (age 70)..
Death notice for the town of: Wetaskiwin, Province: Alberta
I was very sad to read, belatedly, the obituary of Alistair Colquhoun. I shared a flat with him in Montreal in the 1970’s, on Durocher Street, and enjoyed his company. I distinctly remember the day he set off on his cycling trip Montreal-Thunder Bay. Whenever he was exhausted from cycling he would literally fling his bike into the corner of his room and say “that’s it”, but of course it never was. I have very fond memories of him and just wish that we had kept in touch.
Eileen McFadden