Cambridge Coincidences Collection

In 1969 I attended a residential training centre in Hindhead, Surrey where I spent 5 weeks learning how to be an instructor. My accommodation was a single bedroom within the training centre, a large house, probably 19th century. Waking one morning, I lay in bed staring at the ceiling waiting for the impetus to get up. The ceiling light fitting was the usual pendant lamp with a shade. As I looked at it, the bulb fell from its bayonet-type holder and landed on the rug below. There had been no previous problems with the light and I certainly hadn’t interfered with it. Once I had replaced the bulb in its fitting, it remained there for the rest of my time at Hindhead. For a bulb holder to fail is probably rare and the chances of a poorly fitted bulb staying in place for any length of time is also unlikely. For one or other of these to occur during a brief interlude when I happened to be looking in the right direction seems to be an extraordinary coincidence. If only I could achieve an equally extraordinary coincidence when filling out my lottery ticket.

My name is John Gimson. There are milions of Johns and a fair number of Gimsons. A Google search will reveal that 'John + Gimson' occur by the dozen. So was it surprising that when I was working in New Zealand two or three decades ago, I met my namesake, John Gimson, a genuine Kiwi - and his wife Barrie. "So what?" I hear you say. I didn't mention my second name - Barrie no less! So one John Barrie Gimson and two making up the same name - John and Barrie Gimson

This happened around late 1973 or early 1974. I was about 20 years old at the time and had been married since July 1973 (not really relevant but just to provide personal context), and was living just outside the city of Fernandina Beach, Florida but still on what is called Amelia Island. One weekend day (I believe it was a Sunday), after getting up in the morning, I decided to go to a small convenience store about 4 blocks away to get a gallon of milk since we were running low, and a paper. I parked, went into the store, and went to the rear where the milk cooler was and got the milk. On my way back to the front of the store, I notice a man entering the store that looked familiar. We both noticed each other and kind of just stared at one other, as we both were in the process of registering in our minds of who we were each looking at, and to be sure of our mutual perceptions of recognition. Finally, the man spoke and asked, “Glenn”? I in return asked, “Donnie”? It turned out that it was my older cousin Donnie who, with his parents, were just driving into town from Columbus, Ohio and were on their way to visit my mother and step-father who lived in Fernandina Beach.

This happened on 21st April 2011 My wife made moussaka for dinner, which she rarely does, not even once a year. Almost as rarely, we had rocket salad because our local shop had sold out of the mixed salad we usually have. While my wife was serving the moussaka in the dining room I went into the kitchen to dress the rocket and switched on the radio. The station was Radio 4 and they were broadcasting a play. Almost the first thing I heard was the following: ‘What shall we have for dinner?’ ‘There’s some moussaka in the freezer.’ ‘But it’s frozen.’ ‘Put it in the microwave. It isn’t rocket science.’