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Hollywood’s latest buzz isn’t just another reboot announcement — it’s a touching reminder that some TV friendships run deeper than scripted dialogue.

The beloved cast of “Dawson’s Creek” is staging their first complete reunion in 25 years, but the circumstances behind this gathering pack an emotional wallop. James Van Der Beek’s recent stage 3 colorectal cancer diagnosis has sparked an outpouring of support from his former castmates, culminating in this extraordinary event at New York’s Richard Rodgers Theater (fresh off its record-breaking run of “Hamilton: The Next Chapter”).

Katie Holmes, Michelle Williams, and Joshua Jackson — each now carrying impressive creative credentials of their own — didn’t hesitate when the September 22 date was proposed. They’ll be joined by Mary Beth Peil (whose Mrs. Grams remains an unsung hero of ’90s television) and Busy Philipps for a live reading of the show’s pilot episode.

Creator Kevin Williamson, speaking from his new writer’s room in Studio City, put it rather beautifully: “What began as a personal story about a young man and his friends navigating their way through the challenges of life became so much more than I ever dreamed.” Well, ain’t that the truth.

Meanwhile — because Broadway loves nothing more than keeping it in the family — Carrie Coon is making her own theatrical homecoming. Fresh off that deliciously sharp turn in “The White Lotus” (and honestly, who saw that twist coming?) and her scene-stealing work in “The Gilded Age,” she’s stepping into her husband Tracy Letts’ psychological thriller “Bug” at the Samuel J. Friedman Theatre.

The production marks Coon’s first Broadway appearance since her Tony-nominated role in “Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?” — and darling, the wait has been worth it. This deliciously dark piece follows the paranoia-fueled romance between a lonely waitress and a mysterious drifter. Letts describes it as “scary and funny and intimate,” though anyone who caught the show’s Off-Broadway run last spring knows that barely scratches the surface.

There’s something rather poetic about these simultaneous announcements. While the “Creek” crew rallies around their own in a celebration of enduring friendship (and let’s be honest, some pitch-perfect late-’90s fashion choices), Coon and Letts are proving that creative partnerships can evolve in the most fascinating ways.

Michelle Williams — who’s weathered her share of industry storms since playing the misunderstood Jen Lindley — captured the spirit perfectly: “We grew up in Capeside and that’s a bond that will last a lifetime. We wanted to gather around our dear friend James and remind him that we are all here.”

The “Dawson’s Creek” reunion will benefit F Cancer (timing that feels almost too pointed to be coincidental), while “Bug” starts previews at the Friedman on December 17, 2025. Two vastly different productions, united by that indefinable magic that happens when performers connect with their audience — and each other — in real time.

And isn’t that what great theater’s all about?

Hollywood’s latest power play has tongues wagging, darlings. In what can only be described as divine casting karma, Dominic West and Sienna Miller are about to serve up the kind of delicious drama we’ve been desperately craving since the writers’ strike shook things up last year.

The pair — who haven’t shared a stage since their electric chemistry in “As You Like It” nearly two decades ago — are heading to HBO and Sky’s “War.” And trust me, sweethearts, this isn’t your grandmother’s legal drama.

Fresh off his stint as the now-King Charles in “The Crown” (and wasn’t that just spot-on?), West is stepping into some seriously expensive Italian leather as tech mogul Morgan Henderson. Meanwhile, Miller — who’s been absolutely everywhere lately, from Netflix to the front rows at Fashion Week — takes on the role of his soon-to-be-ex, Carla Duval. The casting department deserves whatever they’re being paid, and then some.

George Kay (you know, the genius who gave us “Lupin” and last year’s surprise hit “Hijack”) is the mastermind behind this delightfully wicked venture. He’s promising the kind of double-crossing, scandal-soaked narrative that made “Succession” look like a family picnic — though hopefully with better tailoring, darling.

The premise? Oh, it’s absolutely everything. Two of London’s most cutthroat law firms, Cathcarts and Taylor & Byrne, are going head-to-head in what’s being dubbed “the divorce case of the century.” Think “Marriage Story” meets “Suits,” but with those crisp British accents that make everything sound 40% more sophisticated.

And the supporting cast? Honey, it’s a feast. They’ve managed to snag Phoebe Fox, James McArdle, and the absolutely divine Nina Sosanya (who, between us, has never given a bad performance in her life). Then there’s Pip Torrens — still riding high from his scene-stealing work in “Succession” — and Archie Reneaux, who’s been absolutely everywhere since that Netflix breakthrough last fall.

HBO’s Francesca Orsi couldn’t contain herself when describing the show as “a wild and wicked examination of the brutal battlefield that is divorce.” And let’s be honest — if there’s one thing HBO knows how to do, it’s making wealthy people’s problems absolutely riveting television.

What’s particularly refreshing (in this era of streaming services wielding the cancellation axe faster than a Real Housewife changes alliances) is the two-season commitment right out of the gate. Both HBO and Sky are clearly betting the farm on this one, and with Ben Taylor of “Catastrophe” fame in the director’s chair, they might just have backed the right horse.

Perhaps it’s the combination of West’s gravitas and Miller’s undeniable screen presence. Maybe it’s the promise of watching beautiful people destroy each other while wearing Tom Ford. Whatever the secret sauce might be, “War” has all the makings of our next collective obsession — and darling, we’re here for every perfectly tailored moment of it.

Second acts in entertainment rarely follow a predictable script. Just ask Daniel Dae Kim or Derek Carr — two figures whose career pivots are rewriting conventional wisdom about success in the spotlight.

Remember Kim from “Lost”? That enigmatic ABC drama that had viewers scratching their heads until its final fade-to-white back in 2010? Well, turns out Jin-Soo Kwon was just the warm-up act. After years of scene-stealing supporting roles (including that blink-and-you’ll-miss-it turn as Doc Ock’s assistant in “Spider-Man 2”), Kim’s finally stepping into the spotlight he’s long deserved.

Amazon Prime Video’s “Butterfly” — dropping next month — showcases Kim as a hardened ex-intelligence operative, miles away from his “Lost” days. What’s particularly fascinating about Kim’s evolution isn’t just the trajectory from supporting player to leading man — it’s the dedication he’s shown at every step. During his “Lost” years, this Korean-American actor (more comfortable in English than Korean) dove headfirst into perfecting his Korean dialogue. He even studied the mannerisms of his father’s friends, catching subtle nuances that matched Jin’s era of cultural transition.

Meanwhile, over in the sports world, Derek Carr’s trading in his playbook for a microphone — and the timing couldn’t be better. Fresh off his somewhat surprising retirement from the New Orleans Saints (walking away from $30 million, no less), Carr’s jumping straight into the broadcast booth. His first assignment? Breaking down that mouth-watering Week 1 matchup between Patrick Mahomes’ Chiefs and Justin Herbert’s Chargers on YouTube TV’s expanding NFL coverage.

The move makes perfect sense, really. Networks are scrambling for analysts who can decode today’s increasingly complex game for viewers, and who better than someone who was reading NFL defenses just months ago? Carr’s bringing along former Saints teammate Tyrann Mathieu for the ride — because apparently, one fresh-from-the-field perspective isn’t enough.

Sure, the player-to-analyst pipeline isn’t exactly groundbreaking (Troy Aikman and Tony Romo might have something to say about that). But Carr’s got an ace up his sleeve — his brother David’s been breaking down plays for NFL Network since 2016. Nothing like having a built-in broadcasting mentor who’s already navigated these waters.

These parallel reinventions — Kim’s ascent to leading man status and Carr’s shift to the booth — highlight something crucial about success in the entertainment sphere: adaptability might just be the most underrated superpower. Whether it’s mastering a new language for authenticity’s sake or trading touchdown passes for tactical analysis, the ability to evolve keeps proving its worth.

Sometimes the most compelling stories aren’t about maintaining course — they’re about having the courage to chart a new one. And in an industry that often seems to prize predictability, these transitions remind us that the best career paths, like the most engaging narratives, come with their share of surprising plot twists.

Remember Alicia Silverstone? That radiant star who taught a generation how to properly pronounce “Haitians” and made “As if!” a cultural battle cry? Well, she’s finally spilling the tea on why she ghosted Hollywood at the height of her fame — and honestly, it’s a refreshing splash of reality in our celebrity-obsessed culture.

The “Clueless” phenomenon (god, has it really been 30 years?) launched Silverstone into a stratosphere she never quite felt comfortable inhabiting. “It was very complicated,” she recently confessed to The Hollywood Reporter, her voice carrying the weight of unspoken struggles. “I wasn’t prepared for it in any way, shape, or form.”

Picture this: You’re barely old enough to rent a car, and suddenly you’re the face of a generation. Aerosmith music videos, “Batman & Robin,” magazine covers — the whole nine yards. But somewhere between the bright lights and endless scrutiny, something snapped.

The constant commentary about her appearance? The endless dissection of her every move? Yeah, that’ll mess with anyone’s head. “It was really just extreme how I was being talked to and talked about,” she shared in a particularly candid moment with The Guardian. The dream job had morphed into something else entirely — something that “didn’t feel as fun” anymore.

But here’s where Silverstone zigged while Hollywood expected her to zag. Rather than spiral into the usual child-star narrative (you know the one), she chose reinvention. Trading red carpets for rainforests, she dove headfirst into activism. Peru’s endangered species and African elephant sanctuaries became her new co-stars. She even penned a couple of books — “The Kind Diet” and “The Kind Mama” — because apparently, being awesome in one field wasn’t enough.

Motherhood threw another curveball into the mix. After welcoming her son Bear Blu Jarecki in 2011, Silverstone’s priorities shifted dramatically. One film a year replaced the previous four-per-year grind. “Being a present mummy” became the starring role she never knew she wanted.

Fast forward to 2025, and Silverstone’s pulling off what few thought possible — a genuine Hollywood renaissance that doesn’t feel forced or desperate. Her new series “Irish Blood” (streaming numbers are through the roof, btw) proves she’s still got that magnetic screen presence that made us fall in love with Cher Horowitz back in the day.

Speaking of Cher — buckle up, 90s kids — she’s bringing back the yellow plaid for a Peacock series continuation of “Clueless.” The pilot’s already generating more buzz than a TikTok dance challenge, and early screening reactions suggest she hasn’t lost a step.

At the recent Televerse 2025 Festival (where the metaverse meeting rooms still feel a bit weird, let’s be honest), Silverstone dropped some wisdom that hits different: “You can do it all, but you have to do it carefully.” Coming from someone who actually walked away from fame and found her way back on her own terms? That’s not just advice — that’s a masterclass in authentic living.

Look, Hollywood loves a comeback story. But Silverstone’s journey isn’t about coming back — it’s about growing up, growing wise, and maybe even growing a little wild. She didn’t just survive the spotlight; she figured out how to dance in it without getting burned. And in an industry that often feels more artificial than ever (looking at you, AI-generated scripts), her authenticity feels like a breath of fresh air.

Now that’s what you’d call a total Betty move.

Florence Welch has always known how to make an entrance, and her latest offering proves she hasn’t lost her flair for the dramatic. The haunting new single “Everybody Scream” — which shares its name with Florence and the Machine’s forthcoming album — arrived just as autumn’s chill began settling in, perfectly timed for its Halloween release.

The track itself? Pure Florence magic, really. Welch’s voice soars and swoops through the mix like some ghostly bird of prey, while the instrumentation builds a world that’s equal parts Victorian ghost story and modern rock opera. “Blood on the stage/But how can I leave you when you’re screaming my name?” she wails, and somehow it feels less like lyrics and more like an incantation.

Autumn de Wilde’s accompanying video is, frankly, a bit bonkers — in the best possible way. Picture this: Welch, wrapped in crimson (because of course she is), commanding the screen like some sort of gothic ringmaster. The whole thing transforms from moody meditation to full-blown collective possession scene that wouldn’t look out of place in one of those trendy A24 horror films.

But here’s where things get really interesting. Over the past couple years, Welch has been quietly assembling quite the creative dream team. She’s pulled in Idles’ guitarist Mark Bowen (whose raw energy seems an inspired choice), The National’s Aaron Dessner (fresh off his Taylor Swift collaborations), and — perhaps most intriguingly — indie powerhouse Mitski.

The production credits read like a who’s who of musical innovation. James Ford’s at the helm (no surprise there), with James McAlister adding his multi-instrumental magic to the mix. And let’s not forget Stuart Bogie’s woodwind contributions, which add these gorgeously unsettling layers to the whole affair.

For the collectors and vinyl enthusiasts out there — you know who you are — there’s a special “Chamber Version” in the works. Four reimagined tracks that promise to strip away the theatrics and show the bones of these songs. Rather clever, that.

October 31st feels almost too perfect for this release. Trust Florence to pick a date that matches the album’s apparent blend of the spectacular and supernatural. Mind you, this is the same artist who once turned Shake It Off into a gothic hymn, so perhaps we shouldn’t be surprised.

From the sound of this first single, “Everybody Scream” seems poised to push Florence and the Machine into darker, more experimental territory. With such an eclectic mix of collaborators on board and Welch’s evident willingness to embrace new creative directions, this might just be the album that defines the post-pandemic musical landscape of 2025.

The regional Mexican music scene faces another devastating loss with the tragic death of Ernesto Barajas, co-founder of Enigma Norteño. The 38-year-old singer and bassist was fatally shot Tuesday on the outskirts of Guadalajara in Zapopan, Mexico — adding yet another somber chapter to the complex story of regional Mexican music’s relationship with violence.

News of Barajas’ death sent ripples through the Latin music community, particularly hitting hard among fans of the controversial yet culturally significant narcocorrido genre. His management team at Talento Líder shared a touching farewell that spoke volumes about the man behind the music: “Rest in peace, Ernesto Barajas. Your Talento Líder family will always be proud of you and remember you as the great artist and human being that you were.”

Born in the musically rich state of Sinaloa, Barajas helped shape the sound of contemporary Mexican regional music. Back in 2004, he and Humberto Pérez launched Enigma Norteño during a pivotal moment when narcocorridos were gaining mainstream acceptance. Their provocative storytelling — perhaps best exemplified by tracks like “El Chapo Guzmán” — walked that razor-thin line between cultural documentation and controversial celebration of cartel life.

But Barajas wasn’t content to stay in one lane. By early 2025, he’d evolved far beyond the narcocorrido label, pushing creative boundaries through unexpected collaborations. Take their recent work with Billboard Music Awards winners Fuerza Regida on “El Deportivo,” or their latest album “Atención Al Cliente” dropped just this past November. Mere days before his death, Barajas had unveiled “Hello Kitty,” a fresh collaboration with fellow Sinaloan artist Edgardo Nuñez.

The man’s creative spirit seemed boundless. Beyond the recording studio, he’d launched “Puntos de Vista con Ernesto Barajas,” a podcast that revealed the thoughtful personality behind the performer. Here was an artist genuinely eager to connect with his audience in meaningful new ways.

The circumstances of his death — currently under investigation by the Jalisco Attorney General’s Office — cast a dark shadow over the regional Mexican music landscape. It’s a stark reminder of how artistic expression sometimes collides with the harsh realities of cartel violence in unexpected and tragic ways.

Barajas leaves behind more than grieving family members and shocked fans. His legacy speaks to the transformative power of regional Mexican music — its ability to capture, question, and reshape cultural narratives, even when those stories venture into dangerous territory. In the end, perhaps that’s what made his voice so compelling: the courage to tell difficult truths through the universal language of music.

Talk about a Hollywood plot twist for the history books. As we kick off 2025, the entertainment industry’s serving up a stark reminder that fame’s a fickle friend — just ask the Duffer Brothers and Dr. Phil McGraw.

While the masterminds behind “Stranger Things” are popping champagne over their shiny new Paramount deal, television’s once-reigning advice guru is drowning in legal paperwork that’d make a season finale of “Law & Order” look tame.

The Duffer Brothers — those wunderkinds who turned Netflix’s sci-fi nostalgia trip into pure gold — are about to write their next chapter. After calling Netflix home since what feels like forever (or at least since the days when streaming was still considered experimental), they’re packing their bags for Paramount’s legendary lot. The deal, which doesn’t kick in until their Netflix contract wraps in April 2026, represents what industry veterans are calling a massive coup for Paramount’s theatrical division.

“We couldn’t be more thrilled to be joining the Paramount family,” the brothers announced Monday, practically glowing with the kind of optimism that only comes with a deal sweet enough to make their agent’s dreams come true.

But while Matt and Ross Duffer prep for their silver screen debut, Dr. Phil McGraw’s facing a different kind of spotlight — and honey, it ain’t flattering. Trinity Broadcasting Network’s throwing around accusations that’d make even the most dramatic episodes of his former show look like amateur hour. We’re talking about a lawsuit that’s got more plot twists than a soap opera marathon.

The numbers? They’re enough to make your head spin. TBN claims McGraw orchestrated a scheme worth half a billion dollars — $500 million over ten years, with $20 million upfront and another $50 million annually for shows that supposedly never materialized. The network even built a fancy new production facility in Texas, which now stands as perhaps the world’s most expensive reminder to read the fine print.

Here’s where it gets really rich: TBN alleges McGraw tried squeezing another $100 million out of them for just half the rights to his show’s library. Talk about chutzpah.

McGraw’s team, naturally, isn’t taking these accusations lying down. Their response? About as subtle as one of his famous on-air confrontations. They’re insisting that 214 episodes of “Dr. Phil Primetime” did indeed grace Merit TV’s airwaves — though that claim’s now tangled up in enough legal red tape to wallpaper a courthouse.

Meanwhile, back in the land of happier endings, the Duffer Brothers are showing everyone how to exit stage left with class. Their gracious nod to Netflix’s leadership — “Ted, Bela, and Peter have given us the kind of creative freedom and support that artists dream of” — reads like a masterclass in professional bridge-maintenance.

Let’s face it: Hollywood’s always been a town where today’s golden child could be tomorrow’s cautionary tale. As the Duffers gear up to bring their magic to one of cinema’s most storied studios, Dr. Phil’s fighting for his reputation in a courtroom drama that might just end up being his most-watched performance yet.

Funny how life works sometimes, isn’t it? In this industry, you’re either riding the wave or drowning in it — and right now, that contrast couldn’t be clearer.

Hollywood’s behind-the-scenes constellation lost one of its brightest stars this week — Elon Dershowitz, the maverick producer who turned his father’s legal triumph into Oscar gold, has taken his final bow at 64.

In an industry where family connections often raise eyebrows, the younger Dershowitz carved his own path with a delicious sense of irony: transforming his father Alan’s most notorious case into “Reversal of Fortune,” the wickedly elegant film that earned Jeremy Irons an Academy Award for his bone-chilling portrayal of Claus von Bülow. Talk about keeping it in the family — but with style.

The film’s journey from courtroom to silver screen wasn’t exactly a cakewalk. “He brought it to Hollywood,” recalls Alan Dershowitz, his voice carrying that unmistakable mix of grief and pride. “He went around shopping it. He persuaded the company to do it. He helped pick the stars.” Those choices? Spot-on. The film snagged additional Oscar nods for screenplay and direction, proving sometimes nepotism actually delivers the goods.

But darlings, “Reversal of Fortune” was merely the opening act. Dershowitz’s producing portfolio sparkled with gems like the moody thriller “Fallen” (yes, the one where Denzel Washington gave us chills), and a string of Nicholas Kazan-penned features including “The Whole Truth” and “Dream Lover.” Not too shabby for a Cambridge boy who cut his teeth as an apprentice on Oliver Stone’s “Wall Street” and “Talk Radio” — though one suspects those experiences could fill a memoir or three.

Here’s the plot twist that would make any screenwriter weep: diagnosed with a brain tumor at 10, doctors gave young Elon virtually no chance of seeing his Bar Mitzvah. Yet in true Hollywood fashion, he didn’t just survive — he thrived, building a four-decade career that would make any studio exec green with envy.

While his famous father grabbed headlines defending everyone from Harvey Weinstein to you-know-who (darling, let’s not even go there), Elon chose the subtler art of storytelling from behind the lens. In recent years, he even produced “The Dershow” podcast with his father — a fitting full-circle moment that proved some sequels actually work.

He leaves behind his father Alan, stepmother Carolyn, siblings Jamin and Ella, and their families — plus an entertainment legacy that reminds us that sometimes the most fascinating Hollywood stories are the ones playing out just beyond the klieg lights. Now that’s what you call a wrap.

Remember pickleball’s meteoric rise? Well, there’s a new racket sport stealing the spotlight at America’s poshest resorts, and it’s serving up something far more intriguing than your typical court game.

Meet padel — the sophisticated love child of tennis and squash that’s rapidly becoming the must-have amenity at luxury destinations across the States. But don’t mistake this for just another trending sport. Padel brings something different to the table: a perfect blend of strategy, style, and that indefinable something that makes certain activities irresistible to the country club set.

The numbers are, quite frankly, staggering. Latest projections from the 2025 Global Padel Report (courtesy of Playtomic and PwC) show more than 7,000 new courts popped up worldwide in 2024 alone. By 2027, we’re looking at north of 81,000 courts globally — not too shabby for a sport that most Americans couldn’t name two years ago.

What makes padel so special? Picture this: an enclosed court roughly the size of a doubles tennis setup, where the walls aren’t just boundaries — they’re part of the game. It’s as if someone took tennis, squash, and a dash of architectural ingenuity, threw them in a blender, and somehow came up with something entirely fresh.

Take the Rancho Valencia Resort & Spa down in Southern California. They haven’t just jumped on the padel bandwagon; they’ve redesigned the whole carriage. Working alongside Wilson and those brilliant minds at Grupo Padel Galis World, they’ve created what can only be described as padel nirvana. Three meticulously crafted courts? Check. Elite coaching program led by François Catejón (former U.S. padel champ in the 35+ division)? You bet.

But here’s where it gets interesting — and decidedly more fabulous than your average sporting venture. Rancho Valencia’s taken the concept further, introducing a courtside cocktail menu that’d make any mixologist proud. “Berry Deuce” anyone? Or perhaps a “Bourbon Cherry Smash” after that challenging match? Suddenly, pickleball’s casual vibe seems almost… quaint.

The luxury resort circuit’s caught on faster than a hedge fund manager’s serve. From The Ritz-Carlton’s sun-drenched courts in Key Biscayne to The Houstonian’s sleek setup in Houston, high-end properties are scrambling to add padel to their repertoire. It’s becoming as essential as infinity pools and craft cocktail programs — a marker of resort sophistication that speaks volumes about their clientele’s evolving tastes.

What we’re witnessing isn’t just another flash-in-the-pan trend. This Mexican-born, European-refined sport represents something bigger: the evolution of resort recreation itself. Padel has managed to thread the needle between athletic challenge and social grace, creating an experience that feels both exclusive and accessible.

As 2025 unfolds, one thing’s becoming crystal clear — padel isn’t just playing the game, it’s rewriting the rules of luxury resort entertainment. And that’s something worth raising a “Berry Deuce” to, wouldn’t you say?

The walls of Aberdeen’s Gordon Highlanders Museum hold countless tales of valor, but none quite like Jim Glennie’s. One of Scotland’s last D-Day veterans just marked his centenary – though he’d probably brush off such fanfare with a characteristic “och, it’s nothing special.”

“Just lucky I think. I feel I was a very lucky loon,” he says, that familiar twinkle in his eye betraying a century of extraordinary experiences. The museum’s celebration brought together an unlikely gathering: family, friends, fellow veterans, and even a message from King Charles III himself.

At 18, Glennie was barely more than a boy when fate thrust him onto Sword Beach that June morning in 1944. The memory remains sharp as ever. “I remember getting into the water,” he recalls, his voice steady despite the weight of the words. “My two mates couldn’t swim – stuck to me like glue, they did.” His voice drops slightly. “Boys were getting shot. Shells everywhere. Had to keep your heid doon. Never stopped. Just had to carry on.”

Life had other plans for the young Gordon Highlander. A wound and subsequent capture landed him in Stalag IV-B, one of Germany’s largest POW camps. Strange how humanity surfaces in the darkest places – there, between endless days of hunger, Glennie found himself discussing Aberdeen’s golf courses with his German doctor. Perhaps some things transcend even the deepest divisions of war.

Earlier this year, King Charles’s visit to the museum brought royal recognition to Glennie’s service. Their exchange captured headlines when the veteran cheerfully greeted the monarch with “long time no see!” – a moment of levity that spoke volumes about his irrepressible spirit. The King, visibly moved, praised him as “a great example to us all” and promised the birthday message that arrived for today’s celebrations.

After the war, Glennie traded combat gear for a welding torch, building a quiet life in Turriff, Aberdeenshire. He shared more than four decades with his beloved Winifred before her passing some 15 years ago. Today’s celebration saw the formal presentation of his British Empire Medal by Aberdeen’s Lord-Lieutenant David Cameron – adding to an impressive collection that includes France’s Legion d’Honneur.

Yet perhaps his greatest legacy lives on in the museum halls where he still volunteers. Chief executive John McLeish puts it simply: Glennie transforms “regular museum visits” into “something very special indeed.” His presence bridges past and present, turning history from dusty pages into living memory.

As 2025 dawns and the World War II generation fades into history, Glennie’s hope remains remarkably straightforward – that future generations will remember. Not just the grand strategies or famous battles, but the ordinary lads who found themselves in extraordinary circumstances. From Normandy’s beaches to Aberdeen’s museum corridors, Jim Glennie has certainly done his part to ensure those memories endure.