William E. Simpson II

William E. Simpson II:

Is the Founder and President of $averCD, LLC. Mr. Simpson's patents and creative concepts provide the innovative technological platform for all of the Company's products, including the world's first interactive, multimedia advertiser/CD-ROM coupon book (learn more at: www.savercd.com (www.savercd.com). In November 2006, Mr. Simpson's invention, the $averCD® (aka: Digital Direct Mail™) won the coveted Gold Awards in the "Direct Marketing" and "Sales" categories in the 2006 International Davey Awards (www.daveyawards.com), which was judged by the acclaimed International Academy of the Visual Arts (www.iavisarts.org). Mr. Simpson's white-paper on Digital Direct Mail is published on-line at: www.DigitalDirectMail.com

A further innovation of that paradigm is $averTube™, which is the world's first curbside CD-DVD recycler (learn more at: www.discrecycler.com (www.savertube.com)

In 1996, Mr. Simpson founded Greets®.com, LLC (www.Greets.com). During the time from October 1996 until April 2000, Mr. Simpson served as the Chairman and Chief Executive Officer of Gem Master, Inc. dba. GreetingGifts, Inc. In addition to his founding the Company, he led the creative team in testing and producing 15 different consumer focused CD-ROM products. Mr. Simpson's patented designs provided the innovative technological basis for the Company's proprietary products; namely, interactive CD-ROM greeting cards and product fulfillment system, which could be programmed with customized presentations over an Internet Web site. During the development and launch of Greets.com, Mr. Simpson demonstrated his ability to surround himself with a world class team of executives and Board members that included; the former President of Hallmark Cards in Canada, the former President of the Microsoft Corporation, a former V.P. of Marketing from Samsonite and the former Senior I.T. Architect from IBM Global Services.

Prior to founding Gem Master, Inc. and Greets, Mr. Simpson had just returned from a 3 year, 12,000 mile sailing expedition with his wife and 2 children. They sailed on a state-of-the-art 62' motor-sail boat that he designed and built (1990-1993). Prior to his sailing adventure, Mr. Simpson traveled extensively in South America and Asia as a part of his successful international wholesale distribution business, importing precious gems from their sources around the world and reselling them to many of the major jewelry retailers across the U.S. for nearly 20 years (1979-1990). Some of his customers included Ben Bridge Jewelers, Zale's, and The Lyman Museum. From 1982 - 1990, while living in Hawaii, he established and operated two retail jewelry stores, Maui Designs and Maui Star Jewelers (1983 - 1988) and taught Gemology and lectured at the University of Hawaii, Maui campus for three years. From 1982 until 1984, Mr. Simpson was the founder and CEO of Kehei Limousine on Maui. In 1984 Mr. Simpson was the CEO and founder of Akamai Aviation, an FAA Part 135 operation, which provided air tours of Maui. And in 1986 Mr. Simpson was the CEO and founder of Tropical Princess Charters, a sailing charter business based in Maui until 1988. As a part of the establishment of Tropical Princess Charters, Mr. Simpson successfully lobbied the U.S. Senate and a Bill was passed (H.R. 2598) allowing his use of a Canadian built vessel in the U.S. Coastwise trades. All of Mr. Simpson's Maui based businesses were subsequently sold to private companies.

In 1984, Mr. Simpson received an Associate of Science degree in Flight Technology from Lane Community College. Mr. Simpson also attended Oregon State University 3 years as a science major (1971-1974). While there, he invented an electromagnetic device that was honored by the University's Physics Department and earned him graduate credits in physics. He was also a Judo instructor for OSU and as a two-year letterman, he competed on the OSU varsity Judo team, helping the team in becoming the 3rd ranked college Judo team nationally. In 1974 as the founder and CEO of Scientific Fishing Systems, he invented a device known as the ElectroCatch™ that attracted fish to fishing vessels, which was successfully marketed to the Salmon fishing fleets of the western U.S. He ultimately sold that invention to a private company. In 1989, Mr. Simpson collaborated with Ron Jones, Team Budweiser and Team Circus Circus in an effort to solve the lethal "blow-over" problems (boats becoming airborne) that the turbine race boats were experiencing. As a result of that work, Mr. Simpson now holds a U.S. Patent No. 5,061,007 "Torsionally adjustable wing for uneven application of negative lift to the wheels". The U.S. Patent office has also recently awarded Mr. Simpson with four additional U.S. Patents: No. 6,453,300 & No. 6,273,249 & No. 6,357,584 "Novelty item and product sample card with video or audio device carrier " and U.S. Patent No. 5,954,194 "Gemstone gift card with video or audio device carrier". Mr Simpson also has 4 more patents, which are currently pending before the USPTO and which are Published there as: 20020096441; "Novelty item and product sample card with video or audio device carrier", and 20020083092; "Method and system for automated electronic document distribution", and 20010049627, "Personalized greeting card with electronic storage media and method of personalizing same. Mr. Simpson also holds several professional licenses including: FAA Commercial Multi-engine Instrument Pilot in helicopters and airplanes, with over 5,000 hours as pilot in command, accredited Gemologist, PADI Divemaster and U.S. Merchant Marine Officer - Coast Guard Licensed Master 200 Gross Registered Tons/500 ITC (Power, Sailing and Towing Vessels, with more than 150,000 miles at sea). Mr. Simpson is an avid inventor and other hobbies include: Sailing, flying, diving, big-game fishing, chess, skiing, judo and karate, working on his Book "Distant Gunfire ©" (a sample chapter is at the bottom of this page) and writing poetry, a small portion of which is published at SoloPublications (http://www.solopublications.com/jur81f1.htm#simpson). In April of 2002, Mr. Simpson was honored by the international organization, Students in Free Enterprise (SIFE) when they awarded him the coveted "America's Free Enterprise LEGENDS AWARD" for lifetime entrepreneurial achievement.

Mike Cashman V.P. SIFE presenting Award to William Simpson

Picture Above: William Simpson being presented with "America's Free Enterprise Legend Award"
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CONTACT INFO:

William Simpson

333 South State Street # 293

Lake Oswego, OR 97034

PH: 503. 723-9003

Email: gemmaster7@aol.com

William angling a 125# Marlin on a trout rod

William & Bill Quad/fishing the Baja Coast

Distant Gunfire

This book is dedicated to the few friends who occasionally risked their lives traveling overseas with me from time to time, and to my lovely wife, son and daughter who held down the fort while I was far away in third-world countries risking it all. This book is based upon real-life events, although in many cases the names of people and places of events have been changed to protect trade sources as well as friends and colleagues, some of who remain at large overseas, doing what they do best, and in harms way.

Chapter 1 – Where’s My Snakeskin?

The discomfort from the stifling heat was only exceeded by the humidity and the sweat soaked clothes that stuck to our skin as we struggled to find any possible way to be comfortable in our grass hammocks. Occasionally we would hear a gecko’s call and then the scuffling of a bug’s wings as it was being eaten. Far off in the distant darkness, occasional gunfire would punctuate the night with fear as we lay sweating. Various insects buzzed around the dim light of our lantern, like electrons orbiting a nucleus, as did the mosquitoes that kept their distance from the DEET that covered our bodies. This was all too familiar, for me it was just another night like so many other nights before. It was the Fall of 1987 and I was 36 years old. I was in full career and among other vocations, I was an international gem dealer.

I met Jerry Swift about a year earlier when I was buying engine parts for the diesel engine in my charter sailboat the Tropical Princes at the NAPA auto parts store in Kaneohe, Hawaii. It was clear to me immediately upon meeting Jerry that he was out of place and was definitely a cut above the rest of the parts wranglers behind the counter. Jerry’s father owned a chain of NAPA stores in California and Jerry had grown as a businessman having managed those stores for sometime. Nevertheless, Jerry struck out on his own to find his fame and fortune. We hit it off right away and soon he became an employee of my company and then a trusted friend to my family. After a time, Jerry would run my businesses and would watch our family home from time to time when my wife, two kids and I would go back to the mainland to visit family or deliver gems.

In addition to personal traits of integrity, discipline and loyalty, Jerry had been a champion power-lifter and bodybuilder. Jerry was in his mid-twenties and generally speaking, he was as they say “buff”, rippling with muscles, making him a great candidate to watch my back. Even though he had a great sense of humor and was a truly kind young man, he looked very formidable to those who didn’t know him.

Jerry and I were staying in a small one-room grass thatched hut that had rough sawn lumber walls and floor. We were near the Thai-Cambodian border, about 70 kilometers east of Chantaburi Thailand, and just west of Hell. The plan was to meet-up with some Cambodian soldiers the next morning who also doubled as part-time sapphire miners over at the Pai Lin sapphire mine just over the border in Cambodia. It was about the money for them and us. We were there to buy the gemstones, conflict stones as they are sometimes called, and they were there to sell them so they could buy more guns and supplies to fight Pol Pot’s army. And yes, I am referring to the same evil bastard that oversaw the nearby “killing fields” where 5 million Cambodians were systematically exterminated just after the U.S. pulled-out of Vietnam, leaving that diabolical killer in play. Very few people understand the fact that conflict stones are very common. In fact, just about anywhere gems are mined in third world countries, there is a conflict at some level in the nearby vicinity that is funded at least in part by the gem trade. Large or small, conflicts are funded in many ways, and throughout history, gems have been a steady source of trade in supporting these dark struggles. The myopic and ignorant media has many people today believing that conflict stones involve just diamonds, which is far from reality. All kinds of indigenous gemstones are bought and sold in order to fund the many sides of some conflicts. Rubies, emeralds, sapphires and tanzanite are just some of the gems that fund the warfare in places like Africa, Mid-East, Asia and South America.

Gee Bill, is it always this fricken hot? What about all these damn bugs? Are we gonna get malaria? We better not! How can I read with all these bugs trying to bite me? Jerry sounded anxious. What do you mean I replied…as I swatted a mosquito, the heat, the bugs or what? All of it! Jerry replied. Are you kiddin? Heck this isn’t bad, you should go with me sometime to Brazil… they have cockroaches there the size of skateboards! And beetles that crap when they bite you, and if your scratch the bite the parasites in their feces gets into your blood stream and they chew your brain into Swiss cheese! No, this ain’t bad at all, I joked. I started thinking about our little doctor’s visit before we left. Even though I never let-on, Jerry’s suspicions were quite valid.

Ever since my very first trip to Brazil nearly ten years before, I had been consulting with a several doctors that specialized in tropical diseases and immunology just to maintain some baseline disease prophylaxis on my trips. There were many ways to die in these third-world hell-holes and I was determined to increase my odds for survival. I was always carrying a first aid kit that included sutures and a micro-pharmacy containing various drugs to prevent and treat the many known diseases that I might encounter on any given trip. The drugs in my first aid kit were in addition to all the immunizations, which I had the displeasure to bear prior to every trip overseas. On this trip, I made certain that Jerry had the basic shots, including the mother of all shots, gamma-globulin, which gave you a super immunity for a couple weeks. Distilled antibodies from whole blood, this stuff is as thick as honey, which necessitated the use of a hypodermic needle of a size suitable for any large horse. Ever try drinking a really thick milkshake through a small straw? Well, this stuff was like that, necessitating the railroad sized spike, which upon hitting your ass, definitely got your full attention. Jerry and I both spent plenty of time standing as opposed to sitting after those shots.

Suddenly a scratchy-rustling noise came from over in the corner of the hut where some old wooden boxes supported our backpacks… Shit! Rats! I exclaimed as I rolled out of my hammock. The damn things would eat anything, and I didn’t want them chewing up my medical supplies and the few energy bars I had saved. I reached in my pocket and pulled out a key-chain flashlight and the Italian switchblade that I carried. This knife was special, and I had admired it since the first time my dad showed it to me. He had used the knife in combat and then brought it back from WWII. I carried it most everywhere since day he gave it to me. As I moved towards the commotion knife in hand, I pushed the brass button that was inlayed in the ivory knife handle and the seven-inch bloodstained steel blade emerged. I carefully lifted up one of the backpacks using the tip of the knife blade, oh shit! I jumped back… Jerry jumped up; what the hell is it? It’s not one of those huge spiders we saw at the airport is it? No! It’s just a huge snake and its got a big-ass rat in its mouth, I replied. Judging from what I could glimpse, it was at least an 8-9 foot Cobra. We both hustled outside the hut and stood there, initially looking stupidly at each other. Well, it’s just a snake I said… smiling at Jerry who was looking very unhappy standing barefoot on the insect-covered dirt trail in his boxers and tank-top. Laughing at his situation, I intentionally shinned my light in his eyes to piss him off a little more. Ok, calm down I said. Let’s find a stick or a board and I’ll get the damn snake. What if it’s a Cobra asked Jerry? It IS a Cobra, but he’s got a mouthful of rat right now, so I think I have the advantage. How about a snakeskin belt? I teased as I handed Jerry my knife and headed back into the hut, with a big stick in hand. Hey that’s a good idea Bill; I definitely need a souvenir for my girlfriend. How about a snakeskin purse or wallet? Yea, can we do that instead of a belt? Still standing there yaking, Jerry sounded like a guy ordering at a drive-up window at a burger joint.

Maintaining my distance, I pushed the backpacks off the wooden crates with the stick. Most snakes didn’t both me, but a Cobra was another matter. In the dim light from the lantern nearby, I could see the massive snake was fast disappearing, gliding back into the hole in the wooden floorboard where it had most likely come in. I went back outside, seeing that Jerry hadn’t moved an inch. Well?, where’s my snakeskin? If I don’t bring back a souvenir, she’ll be pissed! Stop worrying Jerry, Thailand is one big souvenir shop!

Jerry wasn’t too happy with me that day. It all started-off quite early when we pulled into the tiny dusty border town at about 7:00 Am after a hot and bumpy 6-hour Jeep ride to the Thai-Cambodian border from Bangkok. Even that early in the morning it was already about 80 degrees with 90% humidity.

Covered and sticky with sweat and road grime, we finally arrived at our destination. There were already about 20-30 small motorcycles parked on the dirt road that bordered a large 50 by 100-foot tin-roofed open-air gem market. The area was packed full of tables where miners and dealers were busily pushing-in and crowding all-around the tables, noisily examining, buying and selling, mostly rough gemstones. In some respects, it reminded me of the floor of the N.Y. Stock Exchange. Quite strangely, I almost felt at home. I couldn’t help but smile as I gazed upon miners and dealers here and there holding gems up to the sky in order to allow the intense morning sunlight to pass through them for a better examination of their color and clarity. It was after all, an amazing sight. Thousands of carats of some of the world’s finest ruby and sapphire rough gems went across these tables every weekend, worth millions of U.S. Dollars.

Occasionally soldiers with machineguns would casually walk by as they patrolled the area, as even more arriving motorcycles putted past on the road looking for a place to pull-in. Miners would work all week and then show up for the weekend market. There they would trade with buyers from Bangkok and few daring foreigners that would venture that far out into the boonies. And the miners only take cash, which makes things even more interesting for the buyers, especially foreigners. But there were even more remote places, where the deals to be had were even better, if you were willing to take even greater risks.

As we stood there, totally absorbed in the bizarre surrealistic circus-like atmosphere, an old man pulling a wooden cart caught our attention. As the old man drew near, we could see that the cart was filled with road-killed animals. Slowly he rolled right up to where Jerry and I were standing and stopped. As the dust settled, flies swarmed off the deformed blood-stained carcasses as the old man reached down and grabbed an unusual looking possum-like animal by its tail and held it up to eye-level so we could get a good look at it. Ugh! To think I may have unknowingly eaten some of that in the local stew, I thought to myself. And then, much to even my amazement, he began telling us in a very matter-of-fact-way just how great it would taste when barbecued. The old man smiled as he completed his sales pitch revealing his three remaining blackened teeth, at which point I translated the tale to Jerry. Visibly disgusted by his facial contortions, Jerry simply said yuck! Get that crap out of my face! I turned to the old man, smiled back at him and in my best Thai, politely told him “no thanks”. At that he very carefully laid the road-killed remains back to rest in his little cart and slowly rolled off to find suitable client, which as it turned out was the so-called Café Le France’ about 20 feet further down the road. We looked on as the old man again displayed his offerings, this time to the man standing behind the smoking BBQ, which was constructed from a sawn-in-half 55-gallon fuel drum, who seemed quite interested. Ah, business as usual, I commented to Jerry.

Jerry wasn’t use to that kind of heat, humidity, and especially not that kind of cuisine, even though we both lived in Hawaii at the time. We carried a couple bottles of water with us all the time to keep hydrated. And if you ran out of water, the only other fairly safe things to drink were carbonated beverages like Coke or beer. Hey Bill, can we get some breakfast? I am starved! Jerry was a body-builder so he was always eating or drinking something. I scanned several of the nearby food vendor’s carts who serviced the crowds at the gem markets. Sure I said, eyeing a nearby food vendor’s glass case full of funny looking deep-fried road-killed animals and some odd shaped eggs, which appeared to be hard-boiled. Hey Jerry, here’s some food?… as I directed him over to the vendor by the glass case. Jerry immediately saw the “eggs” and said how about those? Seeing Jerry’s finger pointing at the “eggs” was more than enough reason to prompt the vendor to promptly dish them over to Jerry. As Jerry eagerly started eating his “eggs”, I paid the smiling vendor, who seemed quite pleased with the transaction. There was a small wooden table just next to the vendor’s glass case with two wooden coke-box stools, which were situated nearby a ditch that also formed a filthy gutter alongside the dirt road. Sitting down at the table with Jerry, I asked, well, how do they taste? Chewing as he pondered my question, Jerry seemed slightly distracted. Maybe it was the rank smelling morning air wafting over us, that carried the unique bouquet of 2-stroke motorcycle exhaust delicately blended with a hint of raw sewage and other assorted fragrances emanating from the decaying matter that lay in the nearby gutter at our feet? Jerry was already shoving the second egg in his mouth by then. Ummm, not bad, not bad, Jerry said. Why do you ask? Well….. they actually look like snake eggs and I have never tried them before, I replied. Jerry quickly unloaded his breakfast into the roadside ditch and washed-out his mouth with some of the bottled water he was carrying. You fucker, why didn’t you tell me? My Cheshire-Cat smile broke into laughter. You never asked!

As I was busting a gut laughing at Jerry, two machine-gun toting Asian men wearing military uniforms walked up to us and began speaking Thai at me as they glanced over at Jerry, who was still rinsing his mouth out. Asking if I was “Mr. Bill” and, “is that Arnold Swartzeneger”? while motioning their gun barrels in Jerry’s direction as they spoke. Seeing the AK-47’s, Jerry looked quite worried and was still sweating and green around the gills from his snake-egg cuisine. Jerry exclaimed, now what! Trying not to laugh, I said; well you see, they said you look like a drug smuggler they’ve been after. I was now trying to act totally serious. What! That’s ridiculous I just got here! How could I be a drug dealer! Jerry’s mind flashed back to the horror stories I told him on the long, long airplane ride from Hawaii about what Thai authorities do to drug dealers. Bill! Tell them, I‘m no drug smuggler!

Unknown to Jerry, these were the Thai soldiers I was expecting that were working with my Thai business partner and friend Pak. Pak had arranged to have them watch over us and to take us over to the Cambodian border to introduce us to their military counter-parts in Cambodia who were dealing the sapphires out of Phai Lin, some of the finest blue sapphires to be had anywhere in the world. Everyone in this part of the world made money from gems or drugs and sometimes both. There was a black-market for everything in Thailand, even the human skeletal remains from the nearby “Killing Fields” in Cambodia. I informed the soldiers that I was in fact “Mr. Bill” as I was known to my friends and associates there, and that even though Jerry had huge muscles like Arnold, he wasn’t. Jerry was carefully studying the faces of the soldiers as I spoke, trying to decode their facial expressions since he couldn’t understand a single word spoken, being this was his first trip to Thailand. Jerry was quite worried about what might happen to him if I couldn’t convince them that he wasn’t a drug smuggler. I could see that Jerry was really starting to sweat now, and that I was taking this joke a little too far, so I told him he was OK, that they were really just wondering if he was Arnold S. At this, Jerry was relieved but miffed, suggesting a place where he could put some snake eggs if I kept it up.

It was like this all the time with Jerry and I. Normally, we both had a lot of fun passing the time by joking around. The problem for Jerry now was I was having more fun than he was because of the language barrier in Thailand, he couldn’t tell when I was serious and when I was joking. We always had some kind of serial-joke going on between us, mostly so that I could pass the time. My first few trips out to the borderlands were fun and adventurous, but after the first half-dozen times out to the “country”, as we called it in the business, it simply became work and was just another job to me, albeit a very profitable job. For Jerry however, this was his first time to the country and it was the trip of a lifetime. Even now, 20 years later he still talks about it.

1980: William Simpson holding an amazing 82,000 carat gem-quality Aquamarine crystal purchased in the mountains of Minas Gerais Brazil

Capt. William E. Simpson II USMM

Entrepreneur, Inventor, Author