Latest posts by Martin Moodie (see all)
- Booting out biblical references unfit for a civilised society - September 25, 2020
- A hidden gem no longer - September 21, 2020
- Boris in Blunderland and quite the stupidest T(ory) party you’ll ever visit - September 15, 2020
Even among the clamour and rush of Cannes and the dominance of business talk some magic and touching human moments can occur. One happened yesterday.
I was summoned by the UK Consortium Club, a group of travel retail suppliers who have banded together to network, discuss industry issues and help good causes. I have written several times in this Blog about their selfless fund-raising efforts.
Yesterday they presented me with a cheque for £2,151.38 made out to the Royal Marsden Cancer Charity. The Marsden is the hospital that treated me during my so far successful battle against cancer. They do magnificent work and are helping many, many people defeat this brute of a disease.
Yesterday had added poignance. Reporting on the story for the TFWA Daily was Paul Hogan, the owner of PPS Publications. Paul (below, right) lost his beloved daughter Brontë to cancer earlier this year. Like me, Brontë was treated at the Royal Marsden. Unlike me, she didn’t make it. There is no logic or fairness in any of this. I learned that long ago.
Paul did not know the name of the chosen charity when he came to report on the story. I saw him stop in his tracks as he noticed the recipient on the cheque. Maybe his heart stopped for a moment too.
So let’s pause amid the clamour and buzz of a trade show for a moment. Let’s remember Brontë. And let’s thank whatever god we each believe in for the value and beauty of life, and for good, good people like the Consortium Club.