Two good people died this week. One was Val Doonican. From the mid 60s to the mid 80s, this genial Irish crooner was one of Britain’s biggest TV stars. Loved by everyone who knew him, he was a particularly popular with those of us from Irish backgrounds. He was always just like an ordinary, kind Catholic parishioner – your dad’s friend or your friend’s dad – who you saw at mass every Sunday. When he died, a bit of my childhood died with him. The other was Sir Nicholas Winton. Words cannot do justice to the admiration I have for this man. In 1938, saved more than 700 Jewish children from certain death in Nazi concentration camps by arranging their safe evacuation to London. He ensured their childhoods didn’t die at all. Val Doonican was 88. Sir Nicholas Winton was 106. Sometimes the good die old.
Sometimes this song is wrong.

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