A wise man once wrote 'Every family has at least three great stories¹'. Whether it be the old uncle who spent his life inventing time-saving gadgets, the aunt who found herself sitting next to a Royal at a banquet or the great grandfather whose survival instinct helped him escape the Nazis.

We're not after three stories - just one will do, but this week, we'd like to hear about your family stories. To set the tone, here's one of ours...

My great grandfather was a Lancashire builder living in Liverpool. By the early 1930s, Ireland had become the Irish Free State but had not yet been renamed Eire, but, being of Irish stock themselves, the heads of some of the unions of Liverpool often favoured Irish workers over English ones and my grandfather found himself struggling to find work. It might be hard to imagine now, but this was a time where the average working man 'knew his place' and never so much as questioned authority, never mind challenged it. But my great grandfather had fought in The Great War and felt he had more right to employment than men who were technically from another country.

So he wrote to the Prime Minister, Ramsay MacDonald.

Some time later, my great grandfather was summoned to the offices of the Labour Exchange where a member of the Civil Service roared at him for having the temerity for writing to the Prime Minister. 'You have no right to do such a thing!' the man concluded, My great grandfather however, reminded him that as a British subject he had every right to write to his Prime Minister if he wished. It seems that letter had set a chain of events going which had led to the Labour Exchange receiving special instructions to find my great grandfather employment befitting his trade. And the Labour Exchange were not happy with being told what to do by their superiors.

That week, my great grandfather was sent to work on the building of a new road that would join Liverpool and Manchester - the East Lancashire Road (aka the A580)...