|Malcolm giving one of his lectures on combustion and explosives|
Happy birthday super bro.
I remember that I was a primary school boy when Malcolm was conscripted into the Army, and when he came home on leave one of his arms would raise me above his head, the palm of one hand holding me aloft.
I also remember how he, in the queue for taxis at Victoria Station took chase of a thief and pinned him to a taxi floor until the local constabulary arrived.
Unlike most of us he has also been known to announce to a whole train carriage, in the wake of some teenage rant, that swearing would not be permitted for the rest of the journey…it offended him.
He’s a man that’s had to cope with more than his fair share of sorrow, and has lost two children in violent accidents.
But he’s dealt with it all stoically.
He and I are miles apart politically, but his compassion for the unfortunates in this world set him apart from many on the right wing of British politics.
I hope to convince him of the error of his political thinking in the first few days of our time in heaven together.
I’m sure then that we’ll be able to enjoy eternity.
Happy birthday Malcolm. You’re a saint.