A life story

Sam Morgan

Born 1956

For my children: the stories behind the photographs.

Childhood

I grew up in a small house with a kitchen that always seemed warmer than the other rooms. My father repaired things at the table, while my mother listened to the radio and told us to leave him enough space.

Our best adventures cost nothing. We built a shelter at the edge of the garden and called it our headquarters. When it rained, we learned that a roof made of branches needed a little more thought.

Looking back, I remember the people more clearly than the possessions. A neighbour who taught me to ride a bicycle. A teacher who noticed that I liked writing. My sister waiting for me at the school gate.

Younger years

My first proper job taught me how much there was to learn. I was nervous about asking questions, until an older colleague told me that pretending to understand was far more expensive than admitting I did not.

I carried that advice into the rest of my life. The friendships I made at work lasted longer than the job itself. We still laugh about our early mistakes, and we still call each other when something needs fixing.

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