OFFICIAL OPENING OF LEON SCHOOL 10th March 1971

 

My dear friend Daphne Capp has given me a copy of the programme for the opening of Leon School on WEDNRESDAY 10th MARCH 1971. I am here reproducing it below. (Please forgive Google Blogger which is useless at formatting text !)

It was in 1991 that I ran the project IN SEARCH OF THE LEONS and published a small book outlining all the Leonite students did. Sir John Leon and Headmaster Bruce Abbott wrote the introductions.

For almost a year I have been preparing to write a follow up IN THE FOOTSTEPS OF SAMMY LEON. I have now decided it will not be a follow up but a rewrite of the 1971 text.

ANYWAY here is this special opening day programme. THANK YOU SO MUCH DAPHNE.

BUCKINGHAMSHIRE EDUCATION COMMITTEE

NORTH BUCKS DIVISIONAL EXECUTIVE

 

OFFICIAL OPENING

 

of

 

THE LEON SCHOOL BLETCHLEY

 

by

 

THE RT  HON  LORD BELSTEAD

Joint Parliamentary Under – Secretary of State

for Education and Science

 

 

on WEDNESDAY 10^th March 1971

at 2.30 pm

 

 

BUCKINGHAMSHIRE EDUCATION COMMITTEE:

 

Chairman

RT HON THE  EARL HOWE CBE DL JP

 

Chief Education Officer

Roy P Harding ESQ  BSc  FIMA  DPA

 

North Bucks Divisional Executive

 

Chairman:

F W FINLOW Esq

 

Divisional Education Officer

D G LUCAS  Esq BA

 

School Governors (1970 – 1973)

 

K FULLER Esq  (Chairman)

I T E  GADESDEN Esq  (Vice Chairman)

W A CALDWELL Esq

A G CAMPBELL Esq

Mrs G E GREENWAY

E HOLDOM Esq

Mrs  D J PHILLIPS

Mrs.S.SNOOK

R A Swepston Esq

H C WEATHERHEAD Esq

CANON K WRIGHT

 

 

County Architect

F P POOLEY Esq

CBE FRIBA MI Struct E  AMTPI

 

Main Contractors:

QUEENSWAY BUILDERS LTD

 

 

School Staff:

 

D B BRADSHAW Esq  BA (Headmaster)

A J COZENS Esq (Deputy Headmaster)

Mrs J C Kilpin (Senior Mistress)

 

J A ARMSTRONG Esq                                     Mrs H J F HOLLAND

Mrs M P BALLENGER                                      A R HOWE  Esq

Mrs G BARFORD                                             H I C JONES Esq

Miss S H BENFORD                                         M E LEONARD Esq HNC

D J R BUCANNAN Esq                                     Mrs P M MEAD

Mrs D M CAPP LTCL                                        Miss J S MORGAN

R P CARD Esq                                                 J MORRIS Esq NDD ATD

G L COPSON Esq  BA                                     Mrs J A PERKS

Mrs G COOPER-SMITH                                   Miss G M PHILLIPS

W T R CROSS  Esq.                                        Mrs Z M PILGRIM

M D CROSS Esq.                                             Mrs V S ROPER

P C CUTLER Esq.                                            W J ROSE  Esq

Miss K DAVIES                                                J G SNINER Esq BA

Miss. S.Derry                                                   Mrs  A B STOPFORTH

J T W GARNER Esq                                         Miss J M TAYLOR

M P GAUDIN Esq                                             Miss P A THOMPSON

Mrs M C GRIFFITHS                                        Mrs E A TIMOTHY

J F HACKET Esq B Comm                               Mrs O B J WHITFORD

W J HARE Esq BA                                           B J WILLIAMS Esq BSc

R HELLOWELL Esq                                         Mrs P WOOLFORD

 

                                         Mrs E ARNOLD (School Secretary)

                                         Miss L ROGERS (Cook Supervisor)

                                         Mr D CLARKE (Caretaker)

 

 

 

ORDER OF PROCEEDINGS

 

1.       The Chairman – Rt Hon The Earl Howe CBE DL JP

 

2.       The Headmaster – D B Bradshaw Esq BA

 

3.       OFFICIAL OPENING – The Rt Hon Lord Balstead MA JP

 

4.       Dedication – The Rt Rev The Lord Bishop of Buckingham

 

5.       Vote of Thanks – K Fuller Esq

 

The Head Girl - Tracey Stevens

 

6.       National Anthem

 

 

   

LEON SCHOOL   WATER EATON

The new school complex is sited within the new Water Eaton housing development on the fringe of what will be the new city of Milton Keynes. Its 26 acres of grounds include playing fields and the new school buildings themselves, a district heating boiler house designed to serve all County administered property in the area, and a flood-lit running track and hard surface playing pitch.

The school is designed mainly with single and two storey blocks, to complement the ground contours, and to ensure the new first-year pupil is faced with a building within human scale and of contemporary simplicity. To this end, also, the various faculties have been laid out around internal courts, giving additional light and pleasant sitting out areas, while the interior has been designed to achieve as near a balance as possible between the necessity for hardwearing materials and the right kind of environment.

From the glazed entrance hall, stairs lead to the administrative accommodation and reference library at first floor level, and behind it, a three storey humanities block centres on grass courts bounded on one side by the music and drama rooms and a two storied science and mathematics wing on the other. The southern court is approached by paved colonnades under the domestic science and language block, a wide lawn separating the dining room and lecture theatre on one side and the English faculty on the other, while around the perimeter are planned an engineering and craft block, rural studies accommodation, a sports hall laid out for basketball, badminton, netball and cricket practice.

Construction has now commenced on the second phase of the school, which will cater for 600 additional pupils, bringing the total 1,400. Here a five-storied general teaching block will mark the culmination in vertical build-up, again surrounded by quiet lawns. Craft, woodwork and metalwork rooms, domestic science rooms, and first floor science accommodation, all planned around this central core. Provide a well-integrated Lower School. Further sixth-form study rooms are included, to augment the existing teaching rooms and communal suite, this latter area will perhaps be seen as the most informal in treatment, the aim being to bridge the gap in the environment between school and university.

Certain areas of the school have been provided by Bletchley UDC and by Milton Keynes Development Corporation. This marks a major step forward in the concept of joint provision and dual use of schools. The UDC have financed the provision of the floodlighting and the hard surface playing-pitch, and the Development Corporation have added a small sum to provide a social area. Pitch and running-track, sports hall, changing rooms, swimming pool and lounge, will form a recreational and athletics complex for the use of both school and public second to none in this area.

The school was designed by the office of the County Architect, and the firs phase was built by Queensway Builders Ltd at a cost of £406,200.

County Architect: F B Pooley CBE  FRIBA  FRICS

Deputy County Architect: A R Walker Dip Arch  ARIBA

Assistant County Architect: A G Humpston B Arch  ARIBA

Architect In Charge: D Aylett Dip Arch (Hons) ARIBA

Chief of Works: F C Coles

 

 

Peter's Magic Fountain Pen

 

Grandpa Morgan

 

PETER'S MAGIC FOUNTAIN PEN

In September 1992 for my son's 12th birtrhday I wrote him a story PETER'S MAGIC FOUNTAIN PEN.  This was the first book I ever had published. That was in the nown old-fashioned traditional way before Amazon revolutionised story telling. It is available in e-book format. I am now working to have this published in paperback format.

There are one hundred and eleven books, short stories and so on to be found on my Amazon Bookshelf. www.maxrobinsonwriter.com 

I am probably the most prolific writer on Amazon but in terms of sales I am right at the bottom !

I use all the money I do make within our SMILE project. Have you read any of my stories ? I mean rubbish ! www.maxrobinsonwriter.com 

When Amazon publishes this book, I hope to finish everything by Wednesday 20th July I will send a copy to each one of the ten Ronald McDonald Houses around the world we support.

Ten houses of love caring for families who have a child sick in hospital. The book can go into the library for families to read.

Complete with typo's, I have yet to check them, here is the opening chapter. PLEASE have a read and encourage me,

Sir Richard James Morgan QC

Born 14^th September 1900

The scene that met Peter when he came home from school that day meant only one thing. The house had an air of spring cleaning, even if it was mid-October, the hoover was bellowing its voice somewhere upstairs and there was the smell of fresh polish in the living room. The downstairs loo had blue stuff in the water, there were fresh flowers in the hall and the bowls of pot-pourri everywhere. That thing just had to be Grandpa Morgan.

“What time’s he coming ?” Peter asked

“Said he’d be here by six o’clock,” replied his mother somewhat out of breath after her battle with the vacuum cleaner. “Take your school things away, have a bath and smarten yourself up. I’ve got to try to organise something for dinner. Grandpa Morgan is hardly likely to appreciate the fish fingers and chips I had planned.”

“Why is he coming ?”

“Since when has that man ever needed a reason for anything he does ? He just gets on an aircraft, jets half way around the world then expects everyone to drop everything and fall into place.”

Peter picked up his school bag and headed towards his room. Why was it that Grandpa Morgan always brought on an attack of terminal panic in his mother ? She dreaded his visits so much and the trouble was that no one ever quite knew when he was going to turn up. Half of the time the family never knew where in the world he was. Just a telephone call giving a couple of hours’ notice, something which would send his mother’s blood pressure to a point measurable on the Richter Scale, and then he would be there on the doorstep.

Strictly speaking, he was not Peter’s grandfather at all, but his father’s grandfather. Peter had no idea just how old Grandpa Morgan was but he had to be very old in spite of the highly active lifestyle he led. His son, Peter’s real grandfather, had died in a car accident the day Peter had been born and his mother’s father had died when Mum was a child so Grandpa Morgan had always been his only grandfather. But just how old was he ?

Peter knew that Dad was forty-two. If dad’s father had been twenty-five when Dad had been born and Grandpa Morgan twenty-five when his son had been born, that would make Grandpa Morgan, Peter paused in his calculating, ninety-two ! That was old, even ancient. Ninety-two, it was an incredible age.

Peter did not know it, but his estimation of Grandpa Morgan’s advance age was not all that far from being right although his method of calculating the figure was a little out of line. He loved his great-grandfather so very dearly, there was a special bond between them that spanned four generations. It was not because he was rich or famous, although Peter was not beyond boasting from time to time to his friends at school about his celebrated relation, but simply because he found him the most wonderful and fascinating person in the whole world. The calculation of Grandpa Morgan’s age suddenly frightened Peter, posing questions he had never before thought of. How much longer could he live ? Life without him would not be the same.

Sir Richard Morgan’s tale was not one of rags to riches, far from it, he was born into a family which had at its head The Right Reverend Doctor James Edward Morgan, Bishop of Colchester. Doctor Morgan had two daughters, both much older than Grandpa and long since dead but just the one son, Peter’s great-grandfather. This son was was sent to school I one of the nation’s most famous and expensive public schools before going on to Oxford University where he read law. Shortly after her coronation the Queen selected Grandpa Morgan as one of her Queen’s Councillors, Learned in the Law, and twenty years later again he knelt before her this time to receive a knighthood. It was not the legal profession, however, that earned him his title, or for that matter his vast fortune, but his becoming one of the world’s best selling authors of all time.

It was a career taken up quite late in life and certainly not until well after the death of The Right Reverend Doctor James Edward Morgan who certainly would have frowned upon such a frivolous occupation but since he had first put pen to paper Grandpa Morgan’s books had been in the top selling lists, remaining there for decades. Several had been turned into films and peter always overfilled with silent pride when he saw the credits roll up on the TV: Original Story by Sir Richard Morgan. Of late he had turned to writing crime thrillers and a series featuring one of his characters, Inspector Blackwell, was currently running on ITV. Even at his advanced age Grandpa Morgan was still turning out a novel at the rate of two a year..

“Peter, Peter have you finished in the bathroom yet ? Janet’s home and waiting to get in there.”

Finished ? Gosh he had hardly started. “What about the other bathroom ?”

“I’m about to go in there.”

What chaos Grandpa’s visits caused to the tranquillity of the Morgan home.

“Won’t be long.”  But he was.

Peter passed Janet in the hall-way and could not avoid her scolding. “Thank you very much little brother, so kind of you at long last ! What’s the matter with you ? What’s the matter with you ? Don’t you want me to make myself look good for the old man then ? Or are you afraid of losing your place as his favourite great-grandchild ? he must be a hundred if he’s a day and just can’t go on for ever even if all his books do. You may be OK but the rest of us don’t want him to cut us out of his will at this late stage do we ? Not after Mother’s worked so hard all these years to secure our inheritance !”

Peter hated the way she was speaking but he had heard it before and it was not  out of character. Big sisters were born to be unkind but surely she wasn’t interested in Grandpa only because of all his money. No, it couldn’t be true that was why his mother always made such a fuss when he visited, but  was it ?  Could it be possible ?

The telephone rang. It was Dad. “Peter, is Mum there ?”

“She’s in the bath.”

Dad was a little relieved that his wife could not come to the phone but. Guilty at having put his son in then role of messenger, he knew exactly what his wife’s reaction would be. “Look, tell her I’ve been delayed at the hospital, will you. I doubt I’ll be home much before eight.”

Eight !  Thank you very much Dad !  peter knew exactly what his mother would say to that piece of information.

“OK, I’ll tell her.”

“Thanks Son, I’m sorry.”

He had hardly put the phone down when the door bell rang. Being the sole person in the house not immersed in a bath full of water he had no alternative but to answer it. There, in all his considerable glory, stood Grandpa Morgan. Peter glanced at his watch, Grandpa was early, very early.

“Grandpa,” Peter exclaimed with delight at seeing his favourite relative again and at the same time searching his brain for a way to explain the absence of his mother. “We weren’t expecting you until six.”

“Never too early to see my favourite great-grandson. Come to think of it myb only great-grandson.”

Grandpa Morgan did not wait to be invited in, he never waited to be invited to do anything, but made his own way into the living room. He was dutifully followed by a chauffeur holding a large blue suitcase in each hand.

“Just put them down, Paul, my grandson here will take them up to my room for me. You can go off now. Drive back to the London flat and I’ll telephone you when nI’mn ready for you to come back to collect me.

“Very good, Sir Richard.”

“Right then, my fine young fellow, just what have you been doing with yourself since I last saw you ?”

“Nothing much,” Peter confessed, “just school.”

“Just school, you poor boy, that doesn’t sound very interesting. Now, I’ve just come back from a month in San Francisco. It’s a wonderful city, you must go there some time.”

“Don’t they have earthquakes there ?”

“Earthquakes, theatres, opera, fine restaurants and everything else a man could possibly want,” Grandpa chuckled.

“I think I’d better let Mum know that you are here,” Peter rose nervously anticipating his mother’s reaction and he hadn’t yet told her about Dad being late home from work. “She won’t be long, I think she is still in the bath.”

He thought he might just possibly have heard his mother swear through the bathroom door when he told her of their visitor’s early arrival. He was certain he heard she swore when he explained that Dad wouldn’t be home until eight.

“Sir Richard,” Mum beamed, arms outstretched. “How simply lovely to see you again. I do apologise for keeping you, we weren’t expecting you quite son early. Janet will be down to join us in a little while.”

“Lovely to see you too, my dear, but I hope my unexpected visit has not caused you to go to any trouble.”

“Oh, no, of course not, not at all.”

“Liar,” Peter thought. He did not like the way his mother was falling over herself to be nice to Grandpa Morgan when less than an hour ago she was cursing his visit with every breath. Perhaps it was nerves or was it something else ? Was Janet right in what she had said ?

“I am afraid David has been held up at the hospital so I wasn’t planning to eat until about eight.  Will that be all right with you ?”

“Penalty of being such a fine surgeon. Whatever time you plan to eat will suit me and don’t you go to any trouble. No trouble at all, please. Beans on toast would be perfectly fine for me.”

Peter doubted his great-grandfather had ever eaten beans on toast in his entire life and could not picture his mother serving them on the best china in the family dining room. What a nightmare.

“Now, could Peter possibly help me upstairs with my bags and then I’ve got something I would like to talk to him about.”

“Sure Grandpa, this way.”

The old man took his time walking up the stairs and into the bedroom. He closed the door behind them and turned the key in the lock. Peter was puzzled, why had he done that ?

“Peter sit down. I need to talk t o you.” Grandpa Morgan was speaking quietly and was strangely serious. It made Peter feel just a little uncomfortable but he did as he was told.

“No need to look quite so worried my young grandson. What I have to say is very important but nothing at all to be afraid of.”

“I’m not afraid.”

“Apprehensive then, now listen. I have just made a new will, you know what a will is Peter, don’t you ?”

“Yes, Grandpa.”

“Well I’m going to die next year and…”

Peter began to protest, trying to say that Grandpa Morgan had a long time left to live but the old man silenced him with a gentle wave of the hand.

“Within twelve months of today, Peter, In will be dead. You mustn’t be sad, I’m ninety-two already.”

So Peter’s calculations had been correct.

“In my will I am going to leave you these.” He took from his pocket a pen and a folded sheet of paper. He placed them on the bed. Peter went to pick them up.

“Not yet, Peter, just leave them for the moment. In need to explain to you what they are and how ton use them. My father explained their use to me and his father to him. My own son is dead and your father, my grandson is a highly successful man in his own right so he won’t need them. I have decided, therefore, to pass by two generations and leave these most valuable possessions ton you. Do you understand that much ?”

“Yes, Grandpa,” Peter replied. It wasn’t exactly a lie but he did not have a clue what the old man was talking about.

Grandpa smiled.  “I’m not making a very good job of this am I ?  You know for a man who earns his living with words I should be able to do better. For hours on the plane coming over I tried to decide how to put things. Let me try to explain. Have you ever heard of Captain Henry Morgan ?”

“Wasn’t he a pirate ?”

“Among other things, he most certainly was. He was one of the most feared pirates of all time. At his height he had thirty-seven ships and two thousand men under his command. When he retired from piracy he lived a perfectly respectable life as Governor of Jamaica and died in hi bed. Tio die in your own bed was something quite rare for a pirate.”

Peter listened with interest. He thought he knew perhaps what Grandpa was about to say.

“Peter henry Morgan was your ancestor. He lived thirteen generations ago in the family. You can work out how many great-greats that is, but he was your grand-father.”

That was quite exciting. “Are you going to write a book about him then Grandpa ?”

“No, Peter In am not planning to write a book about him although the idea is a good one. You can look at that sheet of paper now.”

Peter picked up and unfolded the sheet, turning it round to read its writing. Written in his grandfather’s mown hand it was titled: The Morgan family Line – Male Heirs 1649+

“You must promise me, Peter, that if I explain all of this you will not breathe a word to another living soul until the time comes for you to explain to your own son. Do you promise me that ?”

“I promise.”

“It is not a promise to be made lightly. It will also mean that when you get married you will have just one son, you can have as many daughters as you wish, but you will have only one son. The line must pass directly, you see there can be no complications, and you may think that is too high a price to pay.”

Peter hadn’t got a clue what on earth Grandpa Morgan was talking about. What was all this about sons ? he had never thought about getting married, let alone having any children of his own. He was after all only twelve years of age and had yet to find his first girlfriend, but of one thing he was sure and that was one of Grandpa’s fascinating stories was about to unfold.

“Do you want me to go on Peter ?”

Peter nodded.

“Are you sure ?”

He nodded again.

“Henry Morgan,” Grandpa explained, “had a son James Henry Morgan. Born on 27^th January 1649. He was not so lucky as his father and was executed on Christmas Day 1700 for the crime of piracy !”

Peter settled himself into one of the bedroom chairs. Yes, this was definitely one of Grandpa Morgan’s stories, perhaps it was about to be turned into a film.

“Before pirate Morgan died he gave to his son, who was Peter John Morgan, that pen.”

Peter glanced from the paper he was holding to the pen and made to speak before changing his mind. He did not want to spoil Grandpa’s story with such a little detail, but the old man had already anticipated him.

“I know exactly what you are thinking, young Peter. That’s a new pen isn’t it ?  So it is, but let me explain that it has not always looked like that. It’s changed twice in my keeping and looked very different in old Pirate Morgan’s day when  he passed it to his son. That son, your ancestor who, also was called Peter Morgan, used the pen very wisely and built up a thriving shipping company. For three generations ships of the Morgan Line traded the world. Unfortunately, the next generation, James Morgan, had no interest at all in shipping. When the pen came into his keeping he sold all his shares in the Morgan Line and invested in a merchant bank. His son Edward Morgan rose to become chairman of the bank. They sound a thoroughly boring couple of people if yiou ask me.”

Peter smiled, he knew it was required of him.

“Now Colonel William Edward Morgan, born 1820 and died at the age of seventy-one, was awarded the Victoria Cross for bravery in the Crimean War. He was my great-grandfather, the same relation as I am to you, although I never knew him. He died nine years before I was born. I have his VC medal and have left it in my will to your father, it is quite a valuable family  heirloom.

“My father was Doctor Edward Morgan. Although he was never famous or rich like his father or his son, as a country doctor he put the pen to good work. I remember him from when I was a young boy and he would be so pleased to know that your father is a doctor as well, it is such a noble profession. You know, I think he did more with his life than any of the rest of us.”

Peter thought that being a pirate sounded much better than being a doctor.

“My  own father rose to high office in the Church to become Bishop of Colchester. He and I were never all that close. My mother died when I was just a boy and children never had all that much to do with their parents in those days. As soon as I was old enough I was sent away to boarding school. He didn’t tell me about the pen until he was eighty-one years old then died the next year very reluctant to meet his maker. As great man of the Church he may have been, but he was not all that keen to report to head office !”

Grandpa laughed but Peter didn’t fully understand the joke.

“When my father gave me the pen he told me, as I am now explaining to you, all about our ancestors. He told me, not without it half choking his pious throat, all about Pirate Morgan. It amuses me to think that the Right Reverend Doctor James Edward Morgan being descended from a pirate executed, of all days, on Christmas Day ! He explained to me that the pen ensured success in the chosen career of its owner. It had given him success in the Church, his father in medicine and his grandfather in the army. He told me that I was to pass it on to my son and he to his son. He explained that each son in turn would have only one son, daughters did not matter. The pen would then provide a direct line within the family, direct all the way to Pirate Morgan and the seventeenth century. He also told me that once the owner had passed on its secrets to the next generation he would be dead within a year.”

“My father was dead within a year and In often wonder what kind of a time God gave him when he got to Heaven. So you see, Peter, now that I have told you the family secret I also will be dead within a year.”

“No Grandpa ! No !” Peter protested.

“I am an old man, Peter, and my time is long overdue. When my father gave me the pen I was already a successful barrister with a thriving practice. He hoped it would ensure my becoming Lord Chief Justice of England but I had suffered enough of the law with its dusty old court rooms and stuffy legal books. So when it came to my keeping I retired and took up writing. My career as an author has now become much longer than my career in the law and I don’t regret any of it. I would rather tell a good story any day than sit in judgement and send some poor old lag off to prison for twenty years. Besides the pay is much better.”

“I had planned to give the pen to my own son, John, on his birthday but that was the very day he was killed. I did love him but the silly fool never was much of a driver. He may have been able to command fighter aircraft but in a car he was a menace. The accident was entirely his own fault and fortunately no one else was hurt, but I do  miss him. You were born on the same day, fourteenth of September, that he died and I vowed there and then that the pen should be yours. Your father doesn’t need it so you shall have it. Will you use Pirate Morgan’s pen wisely my young Peter ?”

Peter managed a rather confused, “yes.”

“No doubt when you come to pass it on it will have become some pocket, computerised word processor. It was a feather quill when Pirate Morgan stole it all those years ago. Just use it wisely, and one last thing nothing to do with the pen really but, since Pirate Morgan, this family has developed a kind of tradition in passing the Christ ian name of the father on t o the son as a second Christian name. I am Richard, your grandfather was John Richard and your father David John. Your son must take the name of Peter as his second Chris tian name. Do you  promise to continue the tradition ?

Peter agreed. He hoped the t ale was nothing more than the plot for one of Grandpa’s new books but  he wasn’t quite sure.

Grandpa picked up the pen and took the sheet of paper from Peter. With care he placed them both inside his jacket pocket. “The next time you see these I’ll be dead and they will have been left to you in my will. No need to look so glum Peter, your entire future is now safely assured. Whatever you decide to do in life you will be the very best at it. Now, don’t you think we had better go back downstairs ?  Your mother will be starting to wonder what on earth has become of us.”

Grandpa Morgan left the next day, it was to be the last time Peter saw him, and flew back to San Francisco. He died there three weeks later. Peter cried.

 

The Morgan Family Line:

Male Heirs 1649+

 

Henry Morgan:

Dates uncertain. Possibly Born 1635  Died 25^th August 1688  Age 53 years

Pirate and Deputy-Governor of Jamaica

 

John Henry Morgan:

Born 27^th January 1659  Executed 25^th December 1700  Age 41 years

Pirate

 

Peter John Morgan:

Born 17^th May 1678  Died 4^th July 1720  Age 41 years

Ship Owner

 

William Peter Morgan:

Born 4^th January 1700  Died 11^th June 1760  Age 60 years

Ship Owner

 

Frederick William Morgan:

Born 21^st November 1732  Died 30^th December 1755 Age 43 years

Ship Owner

 

James Frederick Morgan:

Born 11^th June 1764  Died 11^th May 1821  Age 57 years

Director of Willis and Patterson Merchant Bank

 

Edward James Morgan:

Born 28^th February 1790  Died 16^th August 1851  Age 61 years

Chairman of Willis and Patterson Merchant Bank

 

Colonel William Edward Morgan VC:

Born 11^th November 1820  Died 21^st December 1851  Age 71 years

Army Officer

 

Doctor Edward William Morgan:

Born 7^th January 1845  Died 11^th February 1910  Age 65 years

Doctor

 

Right Reverend Doctor James Edward Morgan:

Born 6^th May 1870  Died 7^th June 1952  Age 82 years

Bishop of Colchester

 

Sir Richard James Morgan QC:

Born 14^th September 1900

Barrister at Law

 

Wing Commander John Richard Morgan DFC:

Born 21^st April 1925  Died 14^th September 1980  Age 55 years

RAF Officer

 

David John Morgan:

Born 3^rd November 1950

Consultant Surgeon

 

Peter David Morgan:

Born 14^th September 1980

Schoolboy

The story of the fountain pen bothered Peter at first and he could not get to sleep the night his grandfather told him of it. He dreamed of pirates, of a new book by Richard Morgan and a strange pen writing his future for him.  The next day he wanted to tell someone but Grandpa Morgan had made him promise not to breathe a word. Why had he done that ?  Because it was a plot for his next book and there was such a thing as copyright. Was it. Things needed to be kept secret, of course that was it. From then on Peter did not let it trouble him very much but couldn’t help secretly hoping his family was indeed descended from pirates. It couldn’t do any harm to ask about that,  could it ?

“Dad ?”

“Yes.”

“Were our ancestors pirates ?”

“Pirates ?  No, I don’t think so. They were ship owners. The Morgan Line Was quite famous in the eighteenth century.”

“Ship owners ?”

“Yes, until the family went into banking.”

Grandpa was right.

When Grandpa Morgan died he was flown home from San Francisco to be buried alongside his wife. Funny how Peter had never thought of his having a wife but, of course, he must have. He wondered with a smile what the Right Reverend Doctor Morgan said when he met up with Grandpa in Heaven.  Would he give him what for, for not becoming Lord Chief justice of England ?   Would Grandpa tell the two ancestors who had given up the shipping business for banking that they were thoroughly boring ?  Would Pirate Morgan be waiting there to meet him min Heaven ?

Surely not, he must have gone to – well certainly not to Heaven.

Grandpa Morgan’s will was read in his solicitor’s office three weeks after the funeral. There was only Peter, his Mum, Dad and sister there. In spite of Grandpa’s complicated finances things had been well prepared in advance and quite simply he left everything: his London flat, holiday home in San Francisco, the VC medal that had once belonged to Colonel William Morgan and all his worldly goods with one slight exception to Peter’s father.

“Congratulations Doctor Morgan,” the solicitor said. “Even after the death duties have been settled you will be a very rich man.”

“It’s Mister Morgan,” he corrected. “Surgeons are called Mister and not Doctor.”

“Oh, quite correct, I am sorry. Now there is one other small bequest. To my great-grandson Peter Morgan I leave my Parker Fountain Pen and my notes explaining our family history. I have previously spoken to him about these and he will be expecting them.” The solicitor looked over the top of his glasses. “Is that correct Master Peter  ?”

“Yes.”

“Then here you are Young Sir, one Parker Fountain Pen and a sheet of your grandfather’s writing. In time anything in the great writer’s own hand could become of some value.”

Peter took them and offered polite thanks.

“What’s it like to be rich Daddy ?” Janet bubbled excitedly, quite unable to contain herself.

“I don’t want to be rich, I just want to be a good surgeon.”

“But you can’t refuse it,” his wife chided, he voice containing a slight note of fear. “Not after all those years of having to be nice to him. He never was an easy man, you know. Strange his leaving that fountain pen to Peter, perhaps he thought he would become a famous writer as well.”

“Some chance of that with the reports he brings home from school each term”

Peter did not know what he wanted to be or what he would do with the pen. His grandfather may have told him the pen brought success to its owner but he had not explained how to put it to use. He put the pen away in the bedroom to think about it. But he didn’t think about it, he forgot all about it.

YES, I wrote that THIRTY years ago.

I am now typing up the second chapter. If enough people check this out I will share it as soon as I have finished.

Please check out my bookshelf: www.maxrobinsonwriter.com and remember all money goes not into my pocket but to help people SMILE.