Author Biography

Frank Pearson was born in the industrial centre of England, near the town of Cradley Heath, West Midlands. An exceptional scholar, with a skill for writing in classic  English, he left school before the age of 15, and during his early career he worked in the chain industry, later employing his skills in technical drawing by becoming an architect during WW2, designing the chains for the Desert Rats tanks so as to traverse the desert.

After the war he married the one true love of his life, Elsie Westwood, whom, in their early days together, he dedicated much of his short stories, which was a hobby of his. Ever the poet, he would inscribe them, in his classic English way of writing, “To my lass with the laughing green eyes”.

Frank Pearson, with wife Elsie

Frank Pearson, with wife Elsie

 

Frank worked for many years in the lifting and shipping tackle trade, eventually forming his own business. Ever conscious of his own Father, who worked for many years in a Foundry, often in terrible conditions, Frank took pleasure of employing him in his works department, away from the Foundry and it’s hardships.
 
 
The family moved to Wales in 1985, and during his semi retirement years, Frank was happy to indulge in his real passion, writing, completing TV plays, one adapted for radio, some poetry, and a number of articles. In 1990 he  worked part time as recreation ground attendant, with permission from his employers to write his stories during slack times, in the little hut! By this point, Frank had started work on his novel “A Bugle For The New Day”, and holiday makers who came to play tennis, bowls and putting, often used to take time to talk to him about the book he was working on!
 
 
Tragically, it became clear to Frank that the person he dedicated the book to, his beloved wife Elsie, would never get to read his it, as by the time it was nearing completion, she was already showing signs of the fatal illness to which she succumbed three years later in 1995. Despite his heartbreak, Frank never lost his passion for writing, though life without his partner was never easy, as though part of him was somewhere he could no longer reach. Frank himself passed away on June 3, 2007.
 
 
I believe my Father saw his novel as a chance to finally deliver his storytelling gifts to the world, in the only way he felt it could be done. That being, without commercial pressures. To write it the way he could write it best, in an honest way, divorced from publishing requirements. He was a romantic, emotional man, fiercely defensive of everything in life he held most dear. This book was the pinnacle of his creative writing, and what he could achieve with words. And I have come to realise that this site is my chance to tell his story, and to prove to myself he meant more to me than I ever told him, in his lifetime.

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