My earliest memory
I’ve spent the better part of the last 25 years researching my family history, looking into the lives of those who came before me. I have my useless history degree (lol) and a passionate interest in anything before about 1930 (arbitrary date) but generally don’t think about myself much. This time of the year, most people are busy making resolutions and looking forward and I while I don’t do much of the former I excel at the latter. This time I think I will explore a bit of my earliest memory, at least as I think about it. I was born in 1954 in a post-war Britain that was looking forward. With a glamorous young Queen on the throne, I like to believe that my parents thought of themselves as a glamorous young couple ready to embrace this bold new world. My dad was a aerospace engineer with DeHaviland’s and after his death I had a quick look through some of his papers which pointed to a young man dreaming of space and rockets and other worlds. My mother always impresses me as a youn