Terence Andrew Furlong

Terry was one of my little brothers.The third child of Tom and Betty. He was a mixed up kid but when
he died he was finally getting his life together. He had a job he liked, a girlfriend, loads of
friends ,his beloved Walsall FC and the dreaded motorbike.

He was a likeable rogue, always into mischief, but somehow he always managed to get away with it. He
could have charmed the birds out of the trees.

He managed to charm mom and dad into lending him the money for a motorbike. It was in the days
before compulsory lessons so our dad ensured he took him out practising. Six weeks after he had it
he was killed on it. 11th November 1979, Remembrance Sunday. Typical Terry, showing off to friends,
the kind of things that 17 year olds do.

I can still see his face now, even after all this time. Whenever he left the house he would study
himself in a full length mirror and tell everybody how handsome he was. He was handsome, with a
wicked sense of fun and he died as he lived , with tuppence in his pocket. He had spent all his
weekly wage at the football match the day before.

Needless to say, life was never the same again. Mom and Dad never got over it, but now they are
together again and that thought makes the loss of all 3 easier to bear somehow.