Father's Day


posted by sooyup on

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I am an orphan, of course. How could I not be at my age? So all I can do on Father’s Day is remember the Old Man with affection, wishing I’d told him when he was alive how much he meant to me. Almost everyone’s father is a hero, of course. But on at least one occasion mine really was. In a serious accident at his place of work (a tannery) he jumped into a lime-yard pit to rescue a couple of young lads overcome by fumes. Another two lads died. He seared his lungs and was never the same again. For this action, he received a bravery award from the Queen, and an illuminated parchment from a curious charity called “The Liverpool Shipwreck and Humane Society”. But no compensation from his employers (who were fined for failing to maintain oxygen equipment). How different things would have been today! I’ll raise a glass to the Old Man today, remembering the only advice he ever gave me: In an unfamiliar pub, stick to the bitter.

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