WHEN magician Ron Bridgeman lost his sight, he at first thought he could never perform again.
But against the odds, he has become a master of blind magic.
Ron, 77, from Walcot, said: "I was asked to perform for some children and didn't have the heart to say no. To my surprise it went brilliantly."
Having been in the business for 52 years, Ron knows his routine like the back of his hand.
And with the help of his 14-year-old grand-daughter, Samantha, his shows are still impressive.
He added: "She is a wonderful assistant and doesn't flinch when I chop her head off!"
Ron's love affair with illusion began at the age of eight, after he watched a magician perform at a school fete.
Mesmerised by what he saw, Ron longed to learn the secrets, but the Second World War intervened and he was conscripted in the Army at 18.
By chance Ron met famous magician Gogia Pasha while serving in India.
He said: "It must have been fate. He looked amazing, wielding his wand and wearing a black suit, along with a turban. Gogia could do scores of card tricks and even make women levitate."
In 1947 he was back in Swindon and became an upholsterer at the Railway Works.
He married Joyce, now 73, in 1948, and meanwhile began practicing magic tricks.
To this day his favourite trick involves popping two handkerchiefs down a lady's top then pulling out a bra.
In 1952 he gave his first performance in Old Town's Methodist church hall.
Ron said: "It was a Christmas party and I remember being paid 10 shillings (50p)."
He went under the name of Mister Ron and his performances became popular throughout the town. He also did special shows for children, under the title Uncle Ron.
He decided to go professional but the real money was to be made in London and, with two daughters, Denise and Jayne, to feed and clothe, Ron headed for the capital.
Joining forces with his comedian friend Ron Rowsell, they became known as Wessex and West.
Ron said: "Together we earned £50 from a single show in Covent Garden. It was great."
Their partnership came to an end in the late 1980s, when Ron Rowsell chose to pursue a career in the film industry.
Eventually his shows returned to their original status as a handy sideline and he became a taxi driver.
Then a few years ago, his sight started failing prompting his retirement from the stage.
Ron said: "It was a shame. But I thought I would be useless without my eyes on the job." Then last summer, he was asked to perform in Cavendish Square, Park South, for Christian Children Week.
"I could barely see, but they still clapped and cheered, so I obviously hadn't lost the magic touch," he added.
More recently, Ron gave a spontaneous show for blind people who meet to socialise every Wednesday in Craven House, Old Town.
"Someone gave a running commentary, so they could hear about all the tricks. It was literally a case of the blind leading the blind."
Unsurprised by her husband's achievements, Joyce insists he is a born magician.
She said: "He was made to make magic, so being blind doesn't make any difference.
"Nothing stops him. He is so determined to make people laugh and will continue doing so for ever more."
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