SIMON MORRELL

An Everyday Warrior. From a very young age, I realised my father was not a man of honour. If God sent me an angel in my wife Julie, he most certainly sent me a devil for a dad. I was just six years of age when I saw my first "heavy", a mountain of a man, sent to our house to recover a debt my father owed.

Drains, a Life of Adversity. I was three years old, I had been lost in the woods and, in a separate incident, fallen down a drain where I remained for quite some time before being found and rescued by neighbouring housewives searching for me.

When the IRA Came to Town, sometime ago, as I say in my office, having not long taken over my father's business, a mistake that almost cost me my life, I received a phone call that changed how I dealt and thought about conflict forever.

F.EA.R. False Evidence Appearing Real.

A Murder of Crows.Tommo, Thomas really, but Tommo is his preferred choice of name, leaves his place of work after a hard day of toil. It is a ghastly factory in an even more ghastly area, but it pays the way in the world. First, he is on the small machines and then, at the hands of a malicious foreman who thinks he should do better, the big machines. The ones that really test you, ones you are only supposed to work for a couple of hours, but no, his boss sees to it he is on t

A podcast from some time ago, in which I talk about the effect bullying had on my mental health. “I can control you Morrell, I’m stronger...

This isn’t written out of malice, I have none, it is not written for revenge, I don’t seek it. It is just an insight. All boys need their fathers, just not one like Peter Morrell.