I interacted with her a couple of times. In March 1999 in DC she was doing a signing of “The Personal Letters of Winston and Clementine Churchill.” I bought copies for my mother and me. As I approached the signing table she looked up from behind a large glass of wine and said with a wicked sparkle: “Two copies—lucky me!” I proudly own a photo of us seated together as she signed the books.

In 2008 I met up with your Churchill Tour in Dundee, on the centenary of Churchill’s adoption as their MP. At the meal that evening, you placed me on Mary’s left. There I was, raised in a Yorkshire hamlet, seated with a lady who had sat down to dinner with Roosevelt, Stalin and Truman, who called Winston Churchill “Papa,” trying to think of something to say. But I survived and, what’s more, had her sign my menu and kept her place card. A high spot of my life, from the days of the old Churchill Centre. Keep the writing coming and let’s pray we do not need too many tributes in the days to come. We are losing our finest.