As I was uploading a few more pictures tonight, I came across one that I'd forgotten I had taken. It was of a smiling Dixie Dean on the occasion of his eightieth birthday. I miss old Dixie who was an enthusiastic and energetic field worker. One of my best memories was of mothing with him on Portland on the night before his seventy-ninth birthday. We came off the island after midnight and he had just told me it was his birthday as we were going through Weymouth. A short distance along the road we were flagged down by a young blonde policewoman. This was a random police check for dubious characters and she must have thought her luck was in as I wound down my window and she first looked at me then on past me to Dixie who sat there with his head torch still on his head. He beamed at her and I said, "It's his birthday today are you going to sing to him?" She just shook her head and waved us on :-)