Growing up in Australia, I’ve known Diane Merrick’s family since I was a youngster, she and her brothers were always sharing our apple tree, the mischief. Here’s part of the story when catching up with Diane, some 15 years later: ‘So Charlie, picture this, February 1971, I’m 20 years and 3 months old, six weeksContinue reading “When our bird has flown”
