Open Writing

During the late summer of 2001 a couple of incidents occurred which can only be described as significant events in my life. Preparing to go out for the day with Chloe and Paul's dog, Dylan I experienced chest pains and resorted to laying on the bed until they subsided. A few weeks later whilst staying with friends in Nottingham I again experienced chest pains soon after waking up. I decided a visit to the doctor was called for and following tests he told me to my great surprise that I had suffered two mild heart attacks.

I had been offered a small part in a Huddersfield Thespians play which I was advised to pull out of as a precaution. I was encouraged to continue cycling but told that carrying heavy luggage for any length of time might be detrimental. This effectively ruled out any more major expeditions. I was soon back on my bike and apart from encountering a problem if climbing was involved at the beginning of a ride I soon regained a reasonable level of fitness.

I had joined Huddersfield Thespians at the end of 2000. I became a regular attendee at the weekly Green Room meetings. Play readings; advice on acting techniques given by experienced members and occasional social functions provided much enjoyment. I found myself elected on to the Green Room Committee. Apart from helping to plan the weekly activity programmes I lent a hand in cleaning up the 'Room' after at least a decade of neglect and applying a fresh coat of paint to this century plus aged mill. In 20021 was given a part in a one-act play called' Last Tango in Little Grimley' which was changed to 'Last Tango in Little Paddock' in recognition of it being presented in Paddock Village Hall in Huddersfield.

It was one of a trio of one-act plays presented over two nights. One rehearsal was interrupted when Mary burst into the room. "Derrick's taken his own life" she cried. She was clearly shaken by the news. She was referring to Derrick Pashley, a cycling friend who had regularly ridden with us for many years. I knew he had been going through a difficult period in his life but I had never expected him to take such drastic action. He had, for some time, been in conflict with the modern world. It was not a total surprise to me to learn of this tragic end to his life. His neighbours had not seen him around for a few days. One of them climbed up a ladder and looked into his bedroom. He was hanging from the rafters in his loft. Tony Lee, another cycling friend was located at the Head of Steam pub where he was due to give his regular weekly gig as a member of a musical quartet. He was not surprised suspecting that he had made earlier attempts at suicide. I missed Derrick for some considerable time after his death. One does not easily erase such an event from one's conscience.