Dave (John)ralph And Brian Hawkhead-Blog Poem by Paul Butters

I cannot wax poetical about the late Dave (John)Ralph and Brian Hawkhead. All I can feel is great sadness at their loss. They were both great friends to me and many others. Both had hearts of gold. Both were alleged to have committed suicide back in the 1970s or early 1980s. They were very young. In fact they never met one another, not on this Earth anyway.

Dave was a teaching colleague of mine at Thorne Grammar School, Doncaster, South Yorkshire. We were rookie teachers, in the trenches together. I recall going on holiday to North Wales with him and another teacher called John Lindley. John unwound too quickly and got very depressed, but Dave eventually brought him round. As young teachers the older staff warned us that the kids there could steamroller such as us, and they often did. Dave and John were great sources of support in those hard days.

I witnessed one of the best ever Religious Education lessons, given by Dave when he was covering for a sick colleague. All the things I had been thinking about concerning religious thought came out in that lesson. It was amazing. In due course he went on to manage a rock group formed by local lads there. Yes, they were not all sods: we made some good friends amongst them.

Dave wasn't perfect, I admit. He was a very vociferous Manchester United fan. Whenever I see Ryan Giggs now, I see Dave, as for me they looked quite alike. Dave decided to "fight fire with fire" and carried a weapon in class for a while. Sadly he was found hanging from some railings in Doncaster. Everyone was dumbfounded. Maybe he had a fetish that went wrong. Who knows? What angered me most was that the headteacher at the time described him as "immature" in the newspaper article about his death. Better not say any more on that. Dave was a great bloke, period.

Which brings me to Brian. He died after Dave but I knew Brian from my 6th form days. Brian left a widow I recall. He never said a wrong word about anyone. I dimly remember him having a series of breakdowns, ten times worse than anything I have ever suffered. Again holidays spring to mind: playing football with him on a day trip to Bridlington. When I left teaching in 1980, he was one of the very few to view this in a positive light. (Most reckoned you did not give up a "good" career like that) . Brian saw that going into Careers Work was to my personal benefit, damn the loss of "status".

Sadly Brian was found at the base of a tower block in Leeds. He had returned to work after a bout of Chicken pox, had struggled, and allegedly his boss had refused to help. Had he fallen by accident, distracted by his unhappiness? Only he knew.

As I say, you cannot get poetic about this. Only to assert that we lost two great blokes. I will hear nothing to the contrary from people trying to cover up any lack of support. No, I miss them dearly.