Private Life
Ingrams married Mary Morgan on 24 November 1962; they had three children: a son, Fred (b. 14 February 1964), who is an artist; a second son, Arthur, who was disabled and died in childhood; and a daughter, Margaret (4 May 1965 – 12 May 2004), who was nicknamed Jubby. In 1990, she married David Lionel Ford (b. 1952), the younger son of Sir Edward William Spencer Ford, GCVO, KCB ERD (b. 1910) Assistant Private Secretary to HM King George VI and to HM Queen Elizabeth II (descended from the Earls of Shrewsbury), by his wife, Virginia (1918–95), the daughter of the 1st and last Baron Brand, CMG (1878-1963), by his wife Phyllis Langhorne, dau of Chiswell Dabney Langhorne, of Mirador, Greenwood, Virginia, United States. Jubby Ford, a mother of three, died aged 39 of a heroin overdose in Brighton.
By 1993 he had become involved with Deborah Bosley, a former head waitress at the Groucho Club and an author, who is his junior by several decades. Bosley left him when Ingrams refused to have a child with her. Bosley found a new boyfriend, and had a son with him, but they soon split up and Bosley returned to live with Ingrams.
Ingrams played the organ for many years in his local Anglican church in Aldworth, Berkshire, each Sunday. The Romney Marsh Historic Churches Trust was formed under the patronage of Ingrams and the then Archbishop of Canterbury, Robert Runcie. In 2011 he announced he had converted to Roman Catholicism.
A biography, Richard Ingrams: Lord of the Gnomes (ISBN 0-434-77828-1) by Harry Thompson, was published in 1994.
Read more about this topic: Richard Ingrams
Famous quotes containing the words private life, private and/or life:
“As in private life one differentiates between what a man thinks and says of himself and what he really is and does, so in historical struggles one must still more distinguish the language and the imaginary aspirations of parties from their real organism and their real interests, their conception of themselves from their reality.”
—Karl Marx (1818–1883)
“No annual training or muster of soldiery, no celebration with its scarfs and banners, could import into the town a hundredth part of the annual splendor of our October. We have only to set the trees, or let them stand, and Nature will find the colored drapery,—flags of all her nations, some of whose private signals hardly the botanist can read,—while we walk under the triumphal arches of the elms.”
—Henry David Thoreau (1817–1862)
“Mine honor is my life, both grow in one,
Take honor from me, and my life is done.”
—William Shakespeare (1564–1616)