I FELL like a voice crying in the wilderness. I moved to Kidderminster just over 40 years ago before the decimation caused by the so-called ring-road.

Even then, there were several attractions other than pubs and shops. One was the lovely old library and, even more attractive, the attached art gallery and museum.

In that gallery Mr Dwight and his two charming assistants Jan and Julie kept a constant feast of pictures and artefacts.

The entrance from the library to the gallery was via a huge old door to the left of the main exit.

Raining? Pop in the gallery! Every now and then Mr Dwight would extract a selection of the picture assets belonging to the public. These were displayed and anyone, especially the children, could see really super originals in all media.

Then came progress. Now the gallery is a stark, uninviting area on the second floor, admittedly available by a hidden lift. Otherwise two flights of stairs. The offerings are sometimes superb, at others, rubbish.

I visit often. How many people are there, other than Thursday when coffee is available? Usually none, occasionally two or three. What a waste of space and skills.

Where are the hundreds of pictures we own, given or bought on our behalf, some worth hundreds of pounds if not more? After previous enquiries, I have been told in a carefully controlled store. After all these years the public has never seen dozens of these pictures.

Kids only know prints plastered around school walls, often bettered by their own efforts. They never see originals, the products of care, imagination, hard work and cash! The least the authorities should do is lend out some to schools, public buildings etc without crying about insurance.

This town has about doubled in size since I came, mostly decent houses providing considerable council tax.

It's about will and priorities. People go abroad and ogle the glories on display and return to find a Wyre Forest with nothing to offer but the forest (not everyone is besotted) or the safari park, (one visit every two or three years!) empty shops and a library full of youngsters crouched over computers (not books) with a dead gallery where sometimes fine shows languish.

I should like to see a proper inventory of pictures held in store for us, with probable current values attached, totalled to show our residents what a waste of storage money and air-conditioning costs our betters condone.

Culture to them means costs cash' which, of course, it does in other towns and here and abroad. But they find it.

KEN JACKSON James Road, Kidderminster