Eighty years ago, in 1935, my grandad was born. I suppose anyone who reaches such a milestone deserves a medal, but in my grandad's case, I think this is particularly so; he deserves a million medals It has been my privilege to hear and record his story as he told it to me, either in hand written notes or in person. Its a story that has never been told in such detail before to anyone, even his wife, my grandma, Margaret Powell, and it is remarkable, upsetting, funny and sad all at the same time. Ultimately however it is a story of resilience, redemption and hope, and these are the reasons I wanted to share his story with the world, to breathe hope, knowing that no matter what cards you get dealt throughout your life, there can always be brighter times ahead, if you want to search for it. I have sought to retain his style of writing and speech as much as possible, editing only to clarify a phrase or saying. This means you can hear him speak through the pages that follow, as though he was sat next to you telling his story himself, but I have also developed some of the narrative where detail has been missing or memory has evaded him. This, then, in his language and in my words, is Jim Powell, my grandad's, story.