Dear John Perry,

IT has been such a long time, 60 years if it’s a day, since we worked side by side in that furniture factory on Great Strand Street. I was a raw, 14-year-old fella, you were a newly married man in your twenties.

You were so kind and encouraging to me in the apprenticeship that I had unexpectedly earned. I followed you around like a puppy as you went around town at lunchtime on various errands, but you never complained.

One day, working at an adjacent machine, I asked to borrow your folding wooden rule to measure something. I was always doing this, and on this occasion you refused, telling me to go and buy one of my own. Silly boy that I was, I waited until you were otherwise engaged, then snatched the rule from your back pocket. You reacted by chasing me and taking it back.

A moment later, I saw the foreman approaching with a grim look on his face. He informed us that the boss had witnessed the escapade with the rule, and had summoned us to the office.

Standing crestfallen at his desk, Mr Dobson read the riot act to us. He was extremely angry, telling us that we had engaged in unacceptable behaviour in a dangerous environment and that the end results could have been disastrous for ourselves and the company.

He concluded by informing the two of us that we were sacked. I was horrified beyond words. My trade gone, my parents would be devastated, and I had caused the dismissal of my hero.

Then I heard you speak. I will never forget your words. “Look sir,” you said, “I accept that what happened was wrong, but he is only a kid. I can get another job, but it will ruin his life if he loses this one.”

My heart was in my mouth. The boss was not the sort to take such impudence from an employee.

After what seemed an eternity, my future was determined. “Very well,” Mr Dobson said, “I will give both of you a chance.” Turning to me, he continued “you can thank your colleague for his appeal. Now get back to work”.

John, you didn’t speak to me for a while after that, and I cannot blame you.

A few months later I left for another job, and went on to work successfully in the trade, up until I retired some years ago. I have never forgotten your courage in speaking up for me when I was so vulnerable. You got no reward for doing so, just proving that you were worthy of my admiration.

I hope you are still alive to read this heartfelt expression of my gratitude. Thank you. Andy Jones,