Getting to know the Hiscox family has been one of the greatest honours of my life. Since the tragic passing of Ben Hiscox, a true village legend, I have been accepted into their lives as if I had been there all along. His mum and dad have found themselves thrust into unimaginable pain and grief and whilst I have tried to find words to comfort and ease the suffering, there is nothing that can make things right again. So we do what we can.
I am not noted for being an ideas man but it seems that for once I have come up with a half-decent one. Some weeks after the accident, I came up with the idea of writing a book about Ben. Not a collection of anecdotes, but a true life story, documenting the life that was led by a very special person whose spirit united a whole community. I mentioned the idea to Clive, Ben’s dad, who immediately bought into my idea. I had never before written a biography but I had clear ideas as to where the project might lead. The reaction to my words about Ben in the early weeks after his death had been well received, so I suppose I was brimful of confidence about my ability to see the project through. I reckoned without Clive’s astonishing enthusiasm and writing ability.
I came up with a working title too, “Our Ben”, because that’s exactly what and who he was and will always be. We both knew instantly that the working title would become the actually title because, I believe, the best ideas come quickly when you’re not really thinking about them. I heard someone say “Our Ben” in the days after he left us and it stuck with me, yet this was before I even came up with the book idea. Sub-consciously, I think the idea for the book came as a direct result of hearing “Our Ben”.
And that took us to yesterday when I met with Clive to discuss and plan the way forward. I knew Clive had been very busy writing the narrative and when I arrived at the family home, he read out loud the full 37 pages he had so far written – in long hand! I don’t know what I was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t what I got. It was not a loose connection of random stories: it was the start of a life story. I am not an expert in grammar (you may have noticed this from reading my website) but the words flowed seamlessly. Within a few minutes, I was drawn in by the narrative, hooked by the story, laughing at the anecdotes and waiting with great anticipation for what would come next. And that was through the beauty of his words. He’s a storyteller.
It was certainly not what I was expecting to hear and read and it was all the more special for that. It turned out that Clive has a literary background, going back to schooldays where he wrote entire plays. But the words were paused whilst he built a successful business. Paused, but not forgotten, as I soon realised.
I was asked last night by one of Ben’s old pals – in the Beaufort of course – how long it would be until publication. That’s a difficult question to answer, but if Clive continues at his current speed, it will probably be something like a week next Thursday. More realistically, we are probably looking at later this year.
Clive and I have completely different writing styles. I think he is far more disciplined than I am and much tighter with his narrative. Mine is far more loose, with a tendency to go round the houses a bit. It could be a very interesting fusion!
What we both agree is that there is a story to be told. A story that needs to be told. A story of a life that was done far too soon, but also a life that left a legacy of love and friendship. Clive knows that Ben was not an angel, but he didn’t have a bad bone in his body. It’s not a warts and all book because we don’t think there will be an warts and anyway we want the story to be about someone who was loved by everyone he met. Son, brother, uncle and everyone’s best friend.
I have no fears about the project. Clive’s drive and enthusiasm, matched by a keen grasp of the narrative, will be more than enough to see it through and we will be able to produce something that will do Ben justice. I am humbled to be a small part of it.
