A pensioner in his 70s, who left school aged 12, has won the top prize at a Suffolk New College's annual creative writing competition.
The contest was set up by the college eight years ago in memory of former English and media lecturer, Steve Ransom, who tragically passed away aged 45 in 2016.
A total of seven awards were handed out this year during a ceremony at Chefs’ Whites restaurant in Ipswich and out of those seven, former EADT editor Terry Hunt chose an overall winner.
Terry said: “It’s a wonderful event and I’m always very impressed by the standard of high-quality entries. I spent 40 years working with words and I’ve come to appreciate the power that they can carry.”
Terry chose Danny Davey, 72, from Ipswich as the overall winner for his piece called ‘Euthanasia: murder or mercy?’ – a story that Mr Hunt described as ‘a clear and thought provoking piece of writing’.
The winner - Danny - reflected on his decision to return to education to study a GCSE in English.
Danny – an Ipswich Town fan – has had a pretty good couple of weeks with promotion secured as well as his award.
He continued: “After the GCSE (in English) I want to find a writers' group and try and develop my writing. I’d never written a story until September and now I have won this. It’s a big boost.”
The father of four, grandad of ten and great grandad of two - who was a roofer before writing - added: “I’ve got to be the oldest student in the college. This has surprised the heck out of me. I can’t explain what it means to be standing here as the winner - I’m absolutely stunned - and it has inspired me to keep going. In terms of what’s next - I’d love to write a collection of short stories.”
Danny won a £100 voucher for coming first. All category winners won a £20 voucher and runners up got a £10 voucher.
Organiser Louisa Hubbard, the head of English at Suffolk New College, explained why the college continues to honour the memory of lecturer, Steve.
Louisa said: “Steve loved reading, loved writing and loved being witty with words; most of all, he loved teaching. So, it seems fitting that we continue to honour his memory by running this competition to showcase the talents of our students and staff in the field of creative writing.”
She added: “The standard was as high as ever this year and congratulations to everyone who got involved and all of the winners.”
Laidy Rodrigues Da Cruz was another award winner - securing the top prize in the English for Speakers of Other Languages (ESOL) category for a story she wrote about her mum.
Laidy, 17, from Ipswich, who barely spoke English when she came to the UK from Portugal said: “I feel good to win this award and very happy. It has made me want to write more in the future.”
The current editor of the EADT has always supported the event because of her friendship with Steve Ransom with whom she taught English at Suffolk New College. Liz Nice said: “I miss Steve and think of him often. He was a massive Ipswich fan so I’m sure he is looking down smiling at their promotion – as well as these awards.
Liz added: “Congratulations to Danny. It shows that you are never too old or young to benefit from education.”
Katie Ward – a lecturer in English and creative writing at the University of Suffolk – presented Danny Davey with his short story category award. As well as receiving a voucher, Danny also got a copy of Katie’s book, Pathways.
The Zone and Chef’s Whites also donated prizes.
For more information, visit www.suffolk.ac.uk
The full list of winners
Flash Fiction – Masey Lee Tyler.
Short story (adults) – Daniel Davey.
Short story (young people) – Warren Tye.
ESOL category – Laidy Rodrigues Da Cruz.
Short story (functional skills) – Brooke Kirk-Riseborough.
Wild Card – Alexander Thomas.
Staff / adult / other – Gill Atacocugu.
Danny's short story, ‘Euthanasia: murder or mercy?’
As I brush your silver-grey hair, I ponder the meaning of life, its worth, its reason, its purpose?
You wince as I untangle the knots and try to give your hair the luscious smooth elegance, it once had. I ponder also, the days gone by when we walked the wheat fields and footpaths, together; enjoying the glorious sun as it gilded all that lay before us with the colour of honey.
I cut your nails, now grown and gnarled like the branches of a tree. “There, all done.”
Please God give me fortitude. I watch as you cross the room, knowing the stiffness in your legs makes the journey both slow and painful. I care for you so much, but, is that enough for me to let you go?
I look into sad glazed eyes that were once as bright as diamonds: full of life and sparkle. Over time I’ve I noticed you bumping into this and that. Your sight is going but you never complain; you just accept the passage of time and all it brings, even the incontinence.
Perhaps you don’t even notice. You are my rock, I don’t want to lose you. Do you remember your birthday? We went to the park for a leisurely stroll together; we stopped to listen to the busker at the park gates, “Let it be” (by the Beatles), but played beautifully on the violin.
Astounding! You were mesmerized. The rays of the sun had spread before us like a carpet of gold, whilst casting long fierce shadows through the trees like jagged rocks.
The scent of freshly cut grass filled our lungs, as we listened to the breeze gently rustling through iridescent leaves, forming a concert with the melodic chirping of the songbirds.
We meandered nonchalantly along the avenue of trees whose branches joined like clutching hands, fingers entwined, and enjoyed the warm tickling breeze on our faces.
Please God, give me the wisdom of Solomon. Your life is in my hands and I must do what must be done. Since finding that growth, I have thought of little else with gut-wrenching anxiety and gloom.
Cancer or Cyst? Life or death? Who knows?
I will not let you suffer! Today’s the day, a bath and brush up. I smile as you preen yourself before the hair dryer; you are one elegant lady. Your medical is at 3 o’clock. The moment of truth. What will the result be I wonder? The x-ray will soon declare its decisive decision… Grief is the price of love and I must be prepared either way.
Now, as we sit in the comfort of the warm, bright, waiting room, with its light pastel walls, and gentle background music, there is a calming effect, but nonetheless, I have butterflies in my stomach; my nerves strained to the limit.
Sitting there, a thought occurs to me: why don’t they call these veterinarians, Doctor?
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