My great-uncle Charles Gordon Irwin, was born June 25th 1894 in Tynemouth, England. He was educated there and at Stramongate House, Kendal, Cumbria where he gained a his reputation there as an all round athlete and sportsman. He began his medical studies at Durham University in 1912, graduating with honours in 1917. His studies were interrupted during 1914 and 1915 by service with the Royal Army Medical Corps and was one of the first volunteers. After War and deeply moved by problems arising from battle field injuries, he chose to specialise in orthopaedic surgery. He spent six months studying under Sir Robert Jones.

In 1919 he was appointed orthopedic Surgeon to the Ministry of Pensions in Newcastle and in 1920 he was appointed surgical registrar to the Royal Victoria Infirmary and 1928 appointed Assistant Honorary Surgeon. In 1931 he accepted the appointment of Honorary Surgeon in Charge at the new orthopaedic department of Newcastle upon Tyne�s Royal Victoria Infirmary. Charles lectured in Orthopaedic Surgery at the Durham University college of Medicine, and in 1948 he became Advisor in orthopedics to the No.1 Regional Hospital Board. In 1952 to 1953 he held the high office of Vice President of the British Orthopaedic Association, during which period the Congress of English-speaking Orthopaedic Surgeons was held in London.

Much could be said about my great uncle's talents. A brilliant surgeon, whose work was described as artistry, he was a great countryman. All his life, Northumberland was his to know and love. He knew every twist and turn of every river and road, particularly the roads which led him to the River Tweed or the River Eden. He was an excellent shot and golfer, but fishing outlived his other sporting loves. He was never happier than when encouraging a fumbling beginner to catch his first salmon. For many he will live in memory as a cosummate artist on a river bank, or if the river were unproductive, his unbounded knowledge of local terrain and folk-lore retailed with his inimitable urbanity made many a blank day feel like high summer and well spent.

He was within casting distance of the River Tweed when he died.