When we were first setting up Ignite, the one thing we were desperately short of was expertise. We had an idea of what we wanted to do, and a vague inkling of how it might be possible, but the realities of how to do it were another matter entirely. We didn’t even know where to begin to look, where to ask for help, or what direction to head in.
The whole venture could easily have folded before it had even begun. But then fate, chance, and simple human generosity came into play. I’d recently moved house, and while I was out in the street fixing the VW camper (an endless task, but a labour of love) one of my neighbours walked by. I took a break from adjusting drum brakes, and he told me how he’d spent a week in Belgrade replacing the engine in a VW, long long ago.
It can be a small world sometimes, and not only did James know my relatives in Caithness – unlikely enough in itself – but he ran a small publishing business. I could scarcely believe my luck. Nervously, I asked if he might be able to recommend reliable printing firms. He did. We still use them now.
James took obvious joy in watching someone else get the publishing bug, and his support and generosity in sharing his knowledge were absolutely invaluable in helping us through our early days. Without him, I’m not sure Ignite would be here now. Half an hour ago I received the very sad news that he died of a heart attack last night. Wherever you are, please, raise a glass to his memory this evening.
He was a lovely man. And the world is a poorer place without him.
