Solving the case of the missing case

Alan Simson says he will apologise to a cigarette case.

He'll be saying sorry for selling it about 40 years ago - a small silver heirloom of little monetary value but significant family worth.

The case has been returned to Alan, now an 88-year-old of energetic disposition and still a practising Justice of the Peace. He's had two visitors needing his JP services on this day but now he's been driven inside by what he says feels like a 30-degree day in Christchurch during which he has been vigorously gardening - not bad for an 88-year-old.

He is now reunited with the small silver cigarette case won by his uncle, Roy Forbes Simson, in a billiards tournament in 1913; it was purchased off TradeMe recently by the Public Trust as part of a campaign to reunite several items with rightful owners to demonstrate how belongings of little financial worth but high historical or sentimental value can be lost to families.

"I will, I'll apologise to it for selling all those years ago," says Alan. "It seemed like the right thing to do at the time but I have regretted it ever since.

"I guess you could say we were a bit short of money back then, what with kids and all - and my father had died not long before of lung cancer. He was a smoker and I wasn't very kindly disposed towards smoking, so I decided to sell it to a dealer.

"I still can't stand smoking. Even if I am outside and I get a puff from someone else smoking, it offends me."

Not much is known about Roy Simson other than he was a dab hand at billiards, never married and was a great traveller - visiting South Africa, Europe and settling in Australia. He was brought up in Marlborough with four older brothers and sisters, one of them Janet, who doted on him. Born on September 21 1884, he lived in Christchurch between 1911-1913, possibly honing his billiard skills in establishments like the Federal Hotel where he won the silver case. He died in Sydney in 1937 from unknown causes.

"I can't remember ever meeting him," says Alan, "but I probably did as a boy. I know he was a stock and station agent for Dalgety's for a while.

"But I shouldn't have sold it; it was a family thing and, in particular, it linked me back to Aunt Janet who was a remarkable woman."

She lived until she was 100 and, like Alan, was an avid gardener - tending a half-acre section with ease into her 90s. Alan remembers her indomitable spirit: "She had an amazing garden she worked on all the time. I went round to see her one morning when she was in her 90s and found her still in bed - very unusual for such an active woman.

"I asked her what the matter was; she didn't want to tell me but then she said she'd fallen out of a tree the day before...at 90! They bred them tough back then - she was a very great and proper lady but she was tough."

While Janet inherited Roy's silver case when he died, Alan inherited her love of gardening. An elder of the Presbyterian Church for 60 years, he is also still a patron of the Canterbury Rose Society and has been a national judge.

He remembers when Janet finally gave in to the undeniable advance of old age at 93, agreeing to move into a home. She gave power of attorney to Alan and he and the family helped her dispose of various artefacts and items - Roy's silver case was given to Alan as they helped their aunt pack up.

That's the thing he most regrets; the silver case came from Roy but it was the connection to an admired and respected aunt that he sold along with the case.

On the corner of the bath is a little red boat. It's a kind of tugboat, with a yellow hull, a red superstructure and a little blue funnel.

I can remember playing with it in my bath as a small boy - the kind of distraction mums use to get kids clean when baths are not a favourite pastime for offspring. When my mother died a few years back, my sister packed up her house and sent me the little boat, along with a few other things, that our mother had stubbornly kept.

The little boat sits on the corner of our bath at home now. Every shower and bath I have reminds me of my mum. That's the power of family keepsakes, as Matt Sale knows only too well.

He is general manager retail for Public Trust and says the cigarette case was part of a campaign to find rightful owners for a handful of items of sentimental and possibly historical value. Others included an old camera, a suitcase, a toy car, war medals, a collection of old Super 8 films, a pair of vintage boxing gloves, a tape measure, a nurse's badge, an engraved silver tray and certificates of achievement belonging to a Nelson woman.

"It's often the small, inexpensive items that contain the most exciting or unusual stories and history. Yet often these are disregarded or uncared for and the stories are lost. We think personal stories like the ones we're uncovering through the Rightful Owners should never be lost."

Public Trust, he says, has been protecting the interests of Kiwi for over 140 years: "We make sure people's treasures make their way from one rightful owner to the next."
Detailing their wishes in a will is the best way to do that as "a will is more than just about a big ticket item like your house or investments. Often the things most precious to us are the most inexpensive."

Sale has his own example, a dagger gifted to him by his grandfather who fought in North Africa during World War II.

"It is mounted and on the wall at home now," he says, "and I often look at it and wonder where it would be now if we hadn't done that."

Back in Christchurch, 88-year-old Alan Simson is planning for the future. Having welcomed Roy's cigarette case back into the family, he is not about to make the same mistake twice - and is thinking of passing on the case to another family member when he is gone.

In a touch of irony, Alan's life has been partly shaped by a legacy from a will. He worked in fire and accident insurance before spending 21 years as chief executive of the McLean Institute - a charitable trust in Christchurch.

It was formed 108 years ago when wealthy farmer and landowner Allan McLean left money in his will for the care of educated or refined women who had fallen on hard times. Alan Simson says the Institute was a fine gesture and his job there was "most rewarding". The charitable trust continues to this day though its physical form has shifted from the old McLean mansion to the Holly Lea Village in Fendalton Rd.

Now Alan's thoughts are turning to ensuring Roy's case remains in family hands.
"Since I heard from the Public Trust they had it, I've been thinking about who should get it when I'm gone," he says. "One of my daughter's boys lives in Australia and he was named Simon Roy - he might be the right choice."

If so, the little silver case may one day make a trip back across the Tasman, reversing the journey it made nearly 80 years ago after Roy died and his personal effects were sent to his sister Janet in Christchurch.

More than that, it will keep the family memory of Roy Simson alive and, in particular, that of the remarkable Janet and, one day, the equally remarkable Alan.

Brought to you in association with Public Trust, click here for full terms and conditions. To make sure your treasures aren't lost and ensure they go to the rightful owners, get in touch with them today.