Today is a sad day for me because I am attending the funeral of my cousin.

Michael Wilson died at the age of just 63, and it goes without saying that he will be sadly missed by his family.

But also beyond the family, because most people knew him not as Michael, but Mr Wilson.

For years he was a teacher at Kingsdown School, ironically including when my own kids were pupils there.

Indeed, my son was glad to be taught by him, and while my daughter wasn’t a one of his pupils, she still remembers him as a “really nice man” and says he had a reputation for having the same effect on just about all the kids.

It seems he was universally liked, from the bright kids who wanted to learn, to those who didn’t, and I can’t think of a higher tribute for a teacher than to say he appealed to youngsters right across the board.

One of my son’s old schoolmates posted one tribute to Michael that brought a tear to my eye, saying: ‘RIP Sir. You helped me realise that school wasn’t absolute torture after all, and I thank you.’

He went on to tell me how Mr Wilson helped him out when he was having problems with other teachers, and gave him some priceless advice.

Bill Gates has a similar story, and after becoming one of the richest men in the world, he thanked his teacher, called Mrs Caffiere, for ‘stoking my passion for learning at a time when I easily could have gotten turned off by school’.

Many others have stories to tell of teachers who recognised a pupil was having problems outside school, and stepped in to make sure it didn’t spoil their opportunity of getting a good education.

But possibly the main way that teachers become crucial in someone’s life is by recognising a pupil’s aptitude for a certain subject - sometimes when it is just potential.

My two biggest memories of school are linked with inspiring teachers.

Mr Bates and Mr Cook were the two cool history teachers who switched me on to that subject, and I’ve never switched off.

But when school days are mentioned, my first thought is my English teacher, Miss Mountford, who was quite scary and also happened to be the deputy headmistress.

When she read one story I wrote for homework, it turned out to be my last lesson with her.

Before the next one she arranged for me to be moved up to the top set.

I was amazed, and decided I wouldn’t let her down.

I still don’t know whether she liked my story or saw potential in it - frankly, it was a shameless rip-off of The War of the Worlds - but it changed my life, and I have written millions of words since.

I expect most people can think of at least one teacher who inspired them, and I wonder if they realise the massive positive impact they have had on so many lives.

I hope so. Michael, especially.