Ron Simpson Page
I have been interested in technology since I was a wee child. Later as a trained electronics engineer I guess it is not too much of a surprise that I would become interested in early communication technology, wireless, cable telegraph and all those pioneers, many of whom were British, and who shaped our World in so many significant ways.
When I visited the Bognor Regis Museum of Local History for the first time in August 2009, I uncovered a story that made me, by turns, sad, angry and then determined to do some small thing that might help to redress the balance against what I saw immediately as a tragedy and an injustice. The Museum opened on its present site in May 1997 (it will shortly move to a much larger site thanks to a local benefactor). For most of those years the curator was Ron Simpson. Now, to my everlasting regret I never met Ron; if I had listened to my daughter, who lives in Bognor, and when, some years ago, she suggested that I should visit the Museum, which she had discovered as a little haven of peace and interest in the centre of the town, I would undoubtedly have met him. But that was not to be and I am sad because of it. Ron Died in the summer of 2009 and, sad though that was, I believe he had reached the age of 81 years so that is a blessing for those of us who still consider 'three score years and ten' to be our allotted span.
It appears that Ron became a wireless collector fairly late in life and had amassed a collection of items numbering possibly somewhere in excess of a thousand pieces by the time of his death. A large part of his collection, possibly a quarter or a third, had been transferred to the ownership of the Bognor Regis Museum some years ago. The rest, it seems, he kept at home and at other locations around the Bognor area. His home, by all accounts, was a veritable museum itself with every room stacked high with wireless sets, televisions, test equipment and documentation. Also it seems that Ron had compiled a large number of research notes and these were stored on his computer, also kept at his home. Now, the tragedy that I referred to earlier is that, after Ron's death, his executor or his family (we are not exactly sure who took the decision) decided that the collection was worthless and that it would be scrapped. This is the story that is current, anyway, anecdotal it may be but nevertheless almost everything has disappeared.
I decided there and then that I would get involved with the Museum, at the very least I wanted to be able to catalogue the Museum's collection and carry out sufficient research on the items held so that the collection would be a meaningful one for future visitors to the museum to be able to enjoy. Only later did I decide that it was necessary to get at the truth as to what had happened to Ron's (much loved) collection of artifacts and research. This is a tragedy in the making for anyone in a similar situation. Anyone who collects antiques, historical documents, anything really, is putting their collection at serious risk of destruction after their passing if they don't take steps to prevent such an occurrence. The obvious way to do this is to include the specific items in your will, with definite instructions as to exactly what is to happen to them after your death. I know we don't like to think about death but this is important for future generations.
If you would like to contact me; if you have information that might help me or even if you just want to say 'hello', offer moral support (or even if you think I am wrong) please email me by using the Contact button on my Home page (link at the bottom of this page). I will be delighted to hear from you.
Visit Bognor Regis Museum here
These days everyone is so busy, with their lives, their families, their work, dealing with their post and emails and generally 'running as fast as they can to stand still'. But this is a tragedy that could so easily happen to any one of us and to our lifetime's work of collecting historical artifacts and documents. I feel that we all need a 'wake up call' - is it not so very sad that we are all so busy that we fail to hear that 'lone soft voice in the darkness' that voice that cries out just once, that needs help, needs contact, needs reassurance, but receives none of these and then slips under the waves and is gone forever?
To be continued .......
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