Victoria Mayberry

On the 24th March 1999 my son Richard was involved in a crash whilst on his way to work. He was on his Suzuki 750cc motorcycle when he collided with a lorry that had just pulled out of its depot and was crossing in front of him. This happened in broad daylight at ten to nine in the morning on a bright day with no rain or mist. He had serious head injuries and was dead on arrival at hospital. The lorry driver was uninjured and said that he had not seen Richard coming and only realised he was there when he hit the cab. Richard had been on the correct side of the road and was travelling in a straight line. Why had he not seen him?

I was at work at the time as a care assistant at a local nursing home. At 11am my daughter came to my work along with the police to give me the news. “Mum its Richard he has been in an accident”, she said. “where is he?”  I asked and she said “he is no longer with us”. I couldn’t believe what I had just heard.

My boss and daughter took me to the hospital to see him. He looked like he was just sleeping. My body went cold as I stared at him. He was unshaven which he hardly ever was. They said that I could give him a shave if I wanted. So I did and as I was finishing a tear came form his eye and ran down his face. I was very confused but I was told this sometimes does happen.

They asked “what do you want to do with his clothes”, as they were taking him to the mortuary. I said I would take them home with me. I looked at his body, he had hardly a mark on him. How could he be dead? There was just a small scar on his neck but they said all the injures were internal. His body was trasfered to the chapel of rest and I went to see him everyday until his funeral, the 28th March. When I was there I would put on some of his favorate music and he just lay there like he was resting. 

Richard’s father Alex took his death very badly indeed. From the day he died he would not leave the house or see anyone. When the headstone was put in place at Richard’s grave, my other son John went to see his father and found him lying dead on the floor in his bedroom.  

Sophie was only two and half when her father died and only one month later her granfather was also dead. Richard idolised Sophie, he loved her so much, he was always picking her up and kissing her. Sophie tells people that she does not remember her father to protect herself from questions but she does remember him. She remembers the hugs and the kisses and his smiling face. No one really knows how it will effect her but all I know is the pain goes on and on.

Every day I think about Richard and Alex and it torments me. The injustice of it all leaves me in dispear. No one really knows or cares what exactly happened and the authorities don’t seem to want to find out the truth.

Every morning when I wake up it hits me again, only a mother who has lost a child can know how I feel.