An afternoon of a year.

Tune into the radio – Bob Harris country show.

Start doing yoga.

Listen to the interview with the actor from Cornwall who plays a Texan in the TV show Nashville.

He tells a story of how, when he told his granddad that he was going to Nashville his granddad replied – “I used to have a girlfriend in Nashville”.

“How did you have a girlfriend from Nashville – you were born, raised and live in Birmingham?”

Turns out that when his granddad was flying Lancaster Bombers during the Second World War he got sent to Florida for training.

On a day off he met a girl from Nashville and they started a romance, mainly by sending letters to each other.

Then one day he got called back to England for service and they he and the other RAF trainees had to pack up and skedaddle.

They had to take a 6 day train ride across America and since it included a nigh time stop at Nashville he wrote to the girl asking to meet her on the station so as he could say his goodbyes.

On boarding the train he sought out the ticket inspector and arranged to be woken when they arrived in Nashville.

At 4am there was a knock on hi compartment door and the inspector said – “I’m really sorry I forgot to wake you, we’ve been and gone Nashville.”

Stopped doing yoga.

My dad trained with the RAF in Florida.

Go on line.

Search.

The training centre has an online archive.

Photos of the recruits.

All young men, smart and in uniform.

I’m looking for someone who looks like me now when he was my age but older than he would have been in these photos when he might have looked like I did when I was younger though I doubt that I was ever as handsome.

It makes it complicated.

That could be him.

So could that.

Search elsewhere.

The airfield has an archive too.

They have a photo.

This time I know it’s he.

I have the same photo in my file.

Seventy years in an afternoon.