Some things that stand out immediately: •he was the strongest, tallest, and best-looking kid at our elementary school (Craigbrack Elementary School) and I was proud to be his cousin. It was a safe thing to be his cousin because the bullies knew that, if they laid a finger on me, they'd have to deal with Charlie •he was the best at our game of Rounders (our version of the American game, baseball) where we made our own bats. I always thought that it was Charlie's mental adroitness, as well as his obvious physical prowess, that gave him the winning edge. •on the way home at the end of day (we all walked to school) Charlie and I would veer off into his dad's land, right among the heather where there were the best wild bilberry (our 'blueberries') bushes in the area - and we'd gorge ourselves until our hands, face, and tongues were dyed with their juices. Of course, when my mother chastised me, I always blamed Charlie. •later in life, we both left Ireland and went to England. I stayed two years and the emigrated to Canada at about 20 years of age, My last memory was of Charlie in his Irish Guards uniform with his Busby hat guarding Windsor Castle. He looked fabulous and I was very proud of him. I'm not sure that I ever told him I was so proud of him that day. And of course, he carried himself with the same distinctive posture as his father, Pat Lynch, whom I remember well as he stood in our farmhouse kitchen, a tall figure, wearing his dark three-piece suit, with his watch dangling from his waist-coat, his right hand resting on a distinctive walking cane, his eyes sparkling, and his little mustache giving him an added dash. Charlie inherited much of that charisma.