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.

A very angry Wabbit A Very Pi**ed Off Bugs Bunny, or How to Lose Millions Bounce houses, bouncy castles, inflatable fun houses. Whatever you called them, at the time my father’s factory manufactured them, they were frowned upon by the big theme parks and blue-chip companies. Nobody wanted to be associated with something that propelled the users high in the air, banging into other users and crashing back down. It just wasn’t good for business. So when my father, Peter, reached

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.