| FAMILY PHOTO'S FROM A TIME PAST |
| Margaret Krempasky with her son Richard in 1955 |
| Marceline and Henry Simpson with child Richard, 1955, at the farmhouse in Armburst, Pennsylvania |
| Marceline and Henry Simpson with child Richard in 1958 |
| Marceline Simpson Age 35 in 1965 at our house in Mount Pleasant, Pennsylvania |
| Henry Simpson (Greengate Police - Pennsylvania) and Marceline Simpson: 1972 |
| Rick Simpson plays for cousins in Youngwood, Pennsylvania in 1973 |
| Asst. Chief Rick Simpson (Ellsworth Police Dept. - Pennsylvania) with Chief Henry Simpson (Greengate Police - Pennsylvania): 1977 |
| Rick Simpson with Henry Simpson (1982) at Sheely's Camp in the Uinta Mountains in Southwest Wyoming |
| "Time.. alas. .there is no way to recover lost time, but you learn to make use of what is left once you realize what you have lost..." - Yvonne Hugli |
My grandmother was a very special person in my life. Memories of growing up at
her farmhouse in Armburst, Pennsylvania are some of my most cherished. The
crisp summer mornings with dew on the grass, the scent of numerous bouquets
of wild flowers awash on the wind, the warm sunshine, and my constant
companion Queenie (and later Laddie) both Collie dogs. Helping grandma make
apple pies, the endless wash being hung to dry in the back yard, and just every
day life. Our relationship was a special one that allowed me at the time to
transcend gender among other things. A very happy and joyous time in my life
where I could marvel at the path of a stream or a butterfly hovering over the
endless lawns and fields.
Through my grandmother I found love and unconditional acceptance for the
person I was. We shared many secrets, on both sides, throughout her life and I
miss her dearly.
Many events that affected the lives of all in the family centered around the
Krempasky's farmhouse in Armburst, Pennsylvania throughout the 1950's and
1960's. This was a special magical place, partially hidden in the woods,
surrounded by streams and creeks, laced with animals and flowers. A special
world to explore and engage in fantasy. There were even some friendly faces in
the homes of those who lived nearby that I formed lifelong friendhsips with that
continue to this day.
her farmhouse in Armburst, Pennsylvania are some of my most cherished. The
crisp summer mornings with dew on the grass, the scent of numerous bouquets
of wild flowers awash on the wind, the warm sunshine, and my constant
companion Queenie (and later Laddie) both Collie dogs. Helping grandma make
apple pies, the endless wash being hung to dry in the back yard, and just every
day life. Our relationship was a special one that allowed me at the time to
transcend gender among other things. A very happy and joyous time in my life
where I could marvel at the path of a stream or a butterfly hovering over the
endless lawns and fields.
Through my grandmother I found love and unconditional acceptance for the
person I was. We shared many secrets, on both sides, throughout her life and I
miss her dearly.
Many events that affected the lives of all in the family centered around the
Krempasky's farmhouse in Armburst, Pennsylvania throughout the 1950's and
1960's. This was a special magical place, partially hidden in the woods,
surrounded by streams and creeks, laced with animals and flowers. A special
world to explore and engage in fantasy. There were even some friendly faces in
the homes of those who lived nearby that I formed lifelong friendhsips with that
continue to this day.
My parents are Henry and Marcy Simpson.
They had one child and lived mainly in the
Southwestern area of Pennsylvania. Only in
their later years did they venture out of that
area which centered around Mount Pleasant.
Henry worked in the Steel Mills in
Monesson, Pennsylvania. After retiring, he
embarked on another career as Chief of
Greengate Police.
My mother, Marcy Simpson, worked at a
variety of careers and undetook a number of
projects over the years which concluded
with a retirement from Bell Telephone.
They had one child and lived mainly in the
Southwestern area of Pennsylvania. Only in
their later years did they venture out of that
area which centered around Mount Pleasant.
Henry worked in the Steel Mills in
Monesson, Pennsylvania. After retiring, he
embarked on another career as Chief of
Greengate Police.
My mother, Marcy Simpson, worked at a
variety of careers and undetook a number of
projects over the years which concluded
with a retirement from Bell Telephone.
Marcy excelled in her personal pursuits such as several restaurants she opened in Youngwood, Pennsylvania in the late 1960's and
early 1970's, as well as involvement in political matters at the time.
Marcy held office and was directly involved in the uncovering of a number of corruption scandals that resulted in imprisonment of a
number of local officials.
early 1970's, as well as involvement in political matters at the time.
Marcy held office and was directly involved in the uncovering of a number of corruption scandals that resulted in imprisonment of a
number of local officials.
My father, Henry T. Simpson, was a very caring, intelligent and understanding person. While
he was very "male" and had a passion for athletics, he did not show any disappointment in
my lack of interest in these areas. During my teens, when I grew my hair long and adapted a
feminine appearance, he disliked it and openly told me so. When going to his favorites
hang-outs though, he always wanted me to accompany him. These were places which, at the
time, were the most "redneck" bars in town. While at these bars with my father no one
dared say anything negative to me or about me. Although my father did not like the way I
looked, he did defend my right to do what I needed in order to grow as an individual. Also, I
have always suspected that he secretly knew something about my inner torment.
My father was very active in areas such as Coaching basketball and other youth activities. In
some ways I feel this helped satisfy his athletic quests and desires that I did not share (not to
mention I was terrible at sports). Even though I rarely participated and was not talented he
still wanted me to "tag along." We had a life long close and loving relationship. Henry was my
father as much as he was my friend.
In the early 1970's I grew my hair long and adapted a more feminine appearance. I was a
professional performer and musician in those days. It was easier to hide "gender" among the
performers who were a very accepting and open minded group of people with a variety of
sexual orientaitons and tastes. Our passion was music, our common bond was a love of
performance, and our differences outside the norms of society only added a special flair to
the show. Besides, non-conformity can be outrageously fun!
This was a very happy time in my life. I could have stalled in time indefinately at this juncture
in life but things change as time passes and few things are rarely constant.
My intense and unending love of music, both listening and performing, has never waned.
Throughout my life music has been a constant friend, advisor, confidant, and companion.
he was very "male" and had a passion for athletics, he did not show any disappointment in
my lack of interest in these areas. During my teens, when I grew my hair long and adapted a
feminine appearance, he disliked it and openly told me so. When going to his favorites
hang-outs though, he always wanted me to accompany him. These were places which, at the
time, were the most "redneck" bars in town. While at these bars with my father no one
dared say anything negative to me or about me. Although my father did not like the way I
looked, he did defend my right to do what I needed in order to grow as an individual. Also, I
have always suspected that he secretly knew something about my inner torment.
My father was very active in areas such as Coaching basketball and other youth activities. In
some ways I feel this helped satisfy his athletic quests and desires that I did not share (not to
mention I was terrible at sports). Even though I rarely participated and was not talented he
still wanted me to "tag along." We had a life long close and loving relationship. Henry was my
father as much as he was my friend.
In the early 1970's I grew my hair long and adapted a more feminine appearance. I was a
professional performer and musician in those days. It was easier to hide "gender" among the
performers who were a very accepting and open minded group of people with a variety of
sexual orientaitons and tastes. Our passion was music, our common bond was a love of
performance, and our differences outside the norms of society only added a special flair to
the show. Besides, non-conformity can be outrageously fun!
This was a very happy time in my life. I could have stalled in time indefinately at this juncture
in life but things change as time passes and few things are rarely constant.
My intense and unending love of music, both listening and performing, has never waned.
Throughout my life music has been a constant friend, advisor, confidant, and companion.
Oddly, within a few years, I went to the other extreme due to a lack of knowledge and information on Gender Dysphoria. I felt helpless
and depressed not knowing of a way to transition to female, not knowing how it could be possible. As result, I tried to become ultra
macho. I thought this would rid myself of my transgendered feelings, seeing it as a cure. It didn't happen, it wasn't a cure, but it did lead
to a 23 year long law-enforcement career. I don't regret my career in law-enforcement, in fact I'm quite proud of it, but it wasn't a cure.
I transitioned to female while in law enforcement and was accepted by my co-workers, the Police Department, and the community. I
finished as lead detective of the Violent Crime Unit and Detective in Charge of Sex Crimes Investigations at the City of Rock Springs
Police Department.
In retrospect, I have found a number of transgendered persons have followed the "macho" path at some point in their lives. Many
currently are or were at some point in their past: police officers, fire fighters, and / or have prior military experience.
My law enforcement career did not effect a cure and I began to seek even greater "macho" solutions to my gender situation. What's
more macho than a biker, at least in my eyes at that point in time. I began a slow descent into the biker sub culture and am thankful I
came out alive and fortunate to have survived intact.
The photo at the right was taken during the very early stages of that descent.
and depressed not knowing of a way to transition to female, not knowing how it could be possible. As result, I tried to become ultra
macho. I thought this would rid myself of my transgendered feelings, seeing it as a cure. It didn't happen, it wasn't a cure, but it did lead
to a 23 year long law-enforcement career. I don't regret my career in law-enforcement, in fact I'm quite proud of it, but it wasn't a cure.
I transitioned to female while in law enforcement and was accepted by my co-workers, the Police Department, and the community. I
finished as lead detective of the Violent Crime Unit and Detective in Charge of Sex Crimes Investigations at the City of Rock Springs
Police Department.
In retrospect, I have found a number of transgendered persons have followed the "macho" path at some point in their lives. Many
currently are or were at some point in their past: police officers, fire fighters, and / or have prior military experience.
My law enforcement career did not effect a cure and I began to seek even greater "macho" solutions to my gender situation. What's
more macho than a biker, at least in my eyes at that point in time. I began a slow descent into the biker sub culture and am thankful I
came out alive and fortunate to have survived intact.
The photo at the right was taken during the very early stages of that descent.
| Maternal Grandmother Margaret Catherine (Benyo) Krempasky |
| Parents Henry Theodore Simpson and Marceline Vivian Simpson nee Krempasky |