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by Foster Lewis (Author)
First printed for the family in 1985, I remember my sister Suzanne typing early drafts which were sent back and forth from Oxfordshire to Talbot Green. My Cousin Russel mentioned one evening when we met for a drink in Clifton Village Bristol in summer 2022 that he had a copy of Grampy's book. I read a chapter aloud later that evening, and was transported back to long evenings sat at the dining table with Nanny listening to the Television and Grampy and Dad chatting away with a glass of Worthington's pale ale, from the ration still sent every month from the brewery.
Written 40 years ago now I wonder what Grampy would make of the present discontents.
I am sure he and those of his generation including my maternal grandfather Llewellyn Harrison would be horrified that having nuetralised the worse excesses of one "Owning Class" it would appear that the country is now in the grip of an Owning Class much worse than their forebears.
I thought I should re typeset and include Grampy's memoir as part of the collection of the Going Direct Spring 2024 trilogy.
'A thousand lie beneath the sky,
They rot beneath the sun,
And we who live shall not forgive
This deed your hand hath done!'
Baards of Wales. Janos Arany
