Trevor had a long career as an educationist, being a teacher of all ages/phases from primary classes through Further Education, via undergraduate teaching and initial teacher education, and on to doctoral supervision. During that time, he wrote some thirty volumes for major education publishers as well as numerous articles for learned journals.

Alongside this professional work, he also engaged in more wide-ranging themes. His journalism spanned politics, current and consumer affairs, wildlife, conservation, humour, and - very occasionally - sport. He has always pursued informal education by writing for magazines and by giving talks to groups such as U3A, Probus, Aviation, Photography, History and Wildlife Societies.

His work has been characterised by critical beliefs, the most significant being that most worthwhile knowledge is interdisciplinary. He refused to be classified by any academic subject. His own learning has embraced classical languages up to undergraduate level; several degrees in theology including biblical languages; doctoral research into teaching strategies; and master’s research into both educational management and learning leadership. Most recently, he was appointed Associate Fellow by the Royal Historical Society. If he has any learning regrets, they are that he can’t lay bricks to the standard his grandfather did, and he never had opportunities to carry out hands-on vintage car restoration.

Many of the photographs that illustrate his books have been taken by Trevor himself. He began his interest in photography as a young teenager, working through the era of roll film, darkrooms and wet chemicals. Though succumbing to the convenient digital genre decades ago, he still admires the quality of the older work. Some years ago, he decided, on a whim, to try to gain recognition for as many images in international photo competitions as he was old. ‘Trouble is: I keep getting older’, he says. Nonetheless he is only marginally short of the target at 73.

Asked what has motivated him he says: ‘Marriage and Poverty’. Thankfully, marriage survives and poverty is in the past. Born during the bombing in London in WW2, a stone’s throw from the Old Kent Road, his childhood was sparse. His father was one of those who gave their tomorrows. A scholarship boy at eleven, to a place at a day public school, he accepts the transition changed him, sometimes for the worse. He scorns silver spoons, family connections and intrinsic belief in one’s own superiority.

All of his work across all subjects, has been fundamentally about revealing truth – whether historical truth or the outcomes of sound research. So, his favourite aphorism, the one that makes him smile, is the delightful one (variously attributed): I distrust facts – they get in the way of truth. Deep enough for lifetime’s debate.