He was my greatest hero, my rock, my mentor, my councillor, my sounding board for life's questions. I did not always agree with him, but knew his advise came from a place of experience and love.
A lover
and a fighter.
In a time of war he was born into a large loving family. Times were tough and so were they, they had no choice. He often told me that you don't back down from a fight. Fight for what you believe to be the truth and if you lose you take your lumps, but at least you fought for what you believed in. Brian mentioned yesterday that the times he fought by dad’s side, Dad never started it, but never walked away from it either. And that includes the times he kicked deaths arse over the last few years.
As a lover he loved with his whole heart. His family always came first. He was the rock they all knew they could rely on. If he could help he would, even if the price included what some might think a lecture. Life was for living and he lived it to the full. He was always cheerful and had time for all. He also had an anecdote for all occasions.
These last few years were tough ones, just like the first 18, but he often told me that between those times he had the best life, and the best of this country. He was only in the army for a few years but relived those adventures on a regular basis. And I would happily let him tell me stories he'd told me countless times before because he liked to, and I liked to hear him. He was young, vital and full of life in those stories. He was the hero of my childhood in those stories. He even named me after his best friend from those army days.
He was my hero for many reasons. As a young lad he and his bothers were my ideal of what a man should always aspire to be. Harder than granite. Yet I also saw the softer side that showed a real man cares for his family and both protects and prepares them from the harsh world around them.
He would take it upon himself to introduce not only myself but many of my cousins to the art of the pub crawl. And many times he told me that it was his way of protecting us. If we were out with him and got into trouble he would be there to help. Until we knew what it was all about, the move from children playing in the street to adults playing in the pub was watched over by our guardian angel.
Memories fade but the scars still linger,
Goodbye my friend,
Will I ever love again?
As I've already mentioned he loved to tell his anecdotes.
He also once sat me down and told me that in a hundred years time no-one would remember any of us, he was right. But they can still be reminded
of us.
I would like to leave an open invitation to everyone who knew him to leave an anecdote of their own. Any fond memory of a big hearted man, born on Skipton Circus in December 1942, and died on Skipton Circus in May 2010.
Nottingham 2006
Nikon D200 ISO1250 10mm 1/400sec f/10.
Nikon D200 ISO1250 10mm 1/100sec f/10
Nikon D700 ISO200 70mm 1/80sec f/2.8
Nikon D700 ISO200 200mm 1/15sec f/2.8
Nikon D200 ISO400 80mm 1/125sec f/16
Nikon D200 ISO400 200mm 1/125sec f/16
Original image.
Subject placed bottom left, providing space for the subject to fly into.
Nikon D200 ISO100 50mm 1/250sec f/2.8
Nikon D200 ISO100 50mm 1/320sec f/2.8
Nikon D200 ISO100 50mm 1/250sec f/2.8
Nikon D200 ISO200 50mm 1/125sec f/2.8
Nikon D700 50mm ISO200 1/25 sec f/1.8
Nikon D700 50mm ISO200 1/3sec f/5.6 
