Each year in November I remember a remarkable person in my life and how lucky I was to know him. James Bracegirdle was born in Eccles, then outside of Manchester, UK in 1890. All his life he had adventures that I used to hear as a child usually from my mother. My grandfather - Pappa - was of the moment. He loved whatever was happening right now and he put his whole heart into it whatever it was. And so it was that in 1915 he went to war. He served in Northern France - I have a piece of shrapnel with each place he was at and I have his WWI Canadian Infantry helmet. He never complained about whatever he went through in the war and he loved life, probably because he knew how precious it was.
He was in his 100th year when he died.
