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In Memory Of Ross

 

My first recollection of Ross was as a six-year-old, wearing brown national-health glasses, walking through the gates at Baldwins Gate Primary School. I had already been at the school for a year and the various groups of friends were already developing. We were a close-knit group that included James Alcock and Sandy Roberts amongst others, but it didn’t take too long to realize that Ross would fit in just fine. It was here where our friendship was founded and would extend through high school and beyond.

 

Ross and I developed a keen interest in sport; water polo in particular would become an important part of our lives. However, during Ross’s early years, it was cricket that seemed to be his main focus. Ross attempted to introduce me to cricket and I even joined him at a training session at Whitmore. It didn’t take me long to realize that the ball was far too hard and hurt your hands when you caught it. Ross, on the other hand, was an extremely competent wicket-keeper and I remember watching him with admiration as he leapt around like a grasshopper behind the stumps. His agility was noted and would be a useful asset in the future when he was called upon, on several occasions, to play in goal at five-a-side football.

 

In the summer of 1983, we left Baldwins Gate Primary to go on to our prospective Senior Schools. It had already been planned that I was going to go to Madeley High School as many did from Baldwins Gate. When I knew that Ross, Sandy and James were taking the entrance exam for Newcastle-under-Lyme school, it suddenly dawned on me that I was going to lose my friends. I can certainly attribute to this day the fact that I decided to sit the entrance exam to Ross and Co.

 

As if I didn’t see enough of Ross at school or at water-polo, we would spend time at each other’s houses. A particularly fond memory that remains with me, was of great winter’s sledging in the fields behind Ross’s house. It seemed in those days, unlike today, when it snowed we had several inches. Actually walking across the fields with sledges and Ross’s sister, Angie, in tow was an expedition in itself, especially when we stopped every five minutes for a snowball fight. Looking back I’m sure it only took a few minutes to arrive at our destination, but back then it seemed like hours. We would happily stay out all day until it started to get dark and only then decide that it would be best to make our way back.

During this time, I was introduced to Ross’s early culinary skills. It was the first time I had ever tasted Findus Crispy Pancakes, I had never even heard of them and I don’t know whether they still exist today. Ross cooked them to perfection and what was even more impressive was that he used the grill (I’m sure Ross’ mum was supervising). My experience with cooking at that age was putting bread into a toaster.

 

During the first two years at Newcastle-under-Lyme School, I was of the opinion that I was as strong as, if not better than Ross academically. However, the 3rd year was significant in many ways as our futures began to be mapped out. During our 3rd year Ross showed such drive and dedication to his work that can only be admired. Unlike me, Ross showed great will power when required and would postpone his sporting interests in order to achieve a high standard of academic results, to achieve his ultimate aim of working in the medical profession. Ross’s flair in the Sciences became evident and his hard work made dividends as he passed both G.C.S.E’s and ‘A’ Levels with flying colours, achieving all the grades necessary to get into Bristol University as a medical student. I used to make myself feel better by telling Ross that at least I still had more common sense than he had, a statement that he would never disagree with.

 

Despite his hard work, Ross still managed to play water polo at a good level and was an integral part of a successful under16 and under 18 team, both at school and for Parogon. He also went on to play for Parogon senior team, Bristol University and Staffordshire County. Our school team reached the National Finals, where we were unfortunate to finish runners up. Ross obviously caught the eye of the organizers as he was asked to provide a urine sample, just in case he had been taking any performance-enhancing drugs. Unfortunately, Ross was unable to go under such pressure and proceeded to drink several cans of coke. Much to our amusement Ross returned from the medical office with a grin on his face, having filled 3 beakers.

Along with rugby, water polo is very much a social sport and not so long ago ‘Sport and Alcohol’ could be said in the same sentence without too many raised eyebrows. When playing in a team of older individuals, it was inevitable that two impressionable young lads would be introduced to the odd drink or too, none more so than when we went on tour. Our first tour was met with some trepidation and I’m sure our parents were going out of their minds with worry. When Ross’ mum reluctantly dropped him off at the designated meeting-place and the older players promised to look after him, I’m sure her fears slightly subsided. That was until she bumped into him at Tesco carrying a crate of Tenants Extra for the long journey ahead. As the two youngest players on tour, we tended to look out for each other. I think we did a pretty good job as we got through without too many major incidents.

It was always a pleasure to go on tour with Ross and even when he had moved out of the area, work permitting, he would make every effort not to miss a trip. The last time we went on tour was a few years ago to Holland. We met Ross at Schiphol Airport before traveling by train across Holland to the tournament; it was great to see him as it had been quite a while. We took the opportunity to catch up with what was happening in each other’s lives and everything seemed pretty normal until the first game. To my dismay along with the rest of the team, Ross appeared on the pool side in a pair of skin tight fashion trunks which would be more at home on the Milan Catwalks than at a water-polo tournament. Of course the trunks were the subject of mockery for the rest of the tour, but in true Ross style, he didn’t care and simply laughed it off.

 

By now we regularly went out for a few drinks at the weekend. I could not talk about growing-up with Ross without mentioning our nights out. Friday and Saturday nights meant ‘the Cockloft’, which was basically a dance floor upstairs at the Cock Inn at Stableford. It was a unique place. Everything was wrong about it, it was in the middle of no-where, the concept should not have worked really and these days it would probably have been closed down on health and safety grounds, yet it was the place to go. Ross and I would go and along with the majority would not have a clue how we would get back home. Yet somehow we always managed to get a lift as there was inevitably someone who you knew that would be driving. Before anyone went upstairs to the dance floor, people used to gather in the bar downstairs. I will always remember there being a jukebox at one end and every week without fail Ross would play ‘Should I stay or should I go?’ by The Clash.

 

I was fortunate to go on my first ‘lads’ holiday with Ross and I have some great memories of two weeks in Cyprus with him, Andrew Adams and Dorian Dacie. Although it seemed pretty raucous at the time, I’m sure the holiday was tame and quite civilized compared to those you read about and see on television today. I learnt something new about Ross on this holiday that I had no idea was in his make-up. Ross, after an evening of drinking, suddenly became an animal rights activist. On walking from one bar to another, we passed a Cypriot with some monkeys on chains, showing them off to the tourists. Ross took exception to this and began to tell the man exactly what he thought of him. It was only when we were suddenly surrounded by locals that Ross though better of it, retracted his statements and quickly moved on.

Our first taste of a holiday without parents was good enough to persuade us to try something a little more adventurous the following year. We decided it was time to go on a road trip into Europe. The holiday didn’t get off to a very good start as we arrived in France at midnight during the worst storm I have ever seen. It rained so hard that we couldn’t see through the window screen and thought it best to park up and spend the night in the car. The next day we seemed to drive for miles, in truth we probably only got just south of Brittany, when we came to a campsite that was near to a beach and more to the point there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. Relieved that we had finally found the sun we decided to stay for a few days. This was to be the extent of our road trip as we ended up staying at this camp site for the rest of the holiday. What makes this even more unbelievable was that there was no town, no bars and the only other thing to the beach was a fun fair. To this day I would not even be able to tell anyone the name of the place where we stayed.

 

Although I was pleased for Ross when he went to Bristol University, part of me was disappointed to be losing a friend I had grown up with and seen virtually every day for 12 years. Fortunately we still kept in touch and would always meet up whenever Ross came back to the area to see his parents. Over the years we had looked out for each other, particularly when it came to vetting potential girl friends. Ross was always forthright with his opinion on someone if he didn’t like them, so much so that you could say he was almost rude. Although I didn’t see it at the time, looking back he was probably right most of the time. In 2002 with my now-wife Claire (who luckily got the Ross Davis seal of approval) we visited Ross and his girlfriend Kate in Perth Australia. They were perfect hosts and to my surprise Ross was completely self sufficient, cooking, cleaning, and ironing with aplomb. He had come a long way since cooking Findus Crispy Pancakes. Before settling down in Plymouth, where he worked, Ross spread his wings globally working in a number of countries, much to my envy. Conveniently the majority of places he worked were on a coast which happened to be excellent for windsurfing, although I’m sure that this had no influence on any of his decisions. Whenever Ross came to visit, we would ask him where our next holiday was going to be. Christmas time was a particular favourite time of year for Ross and no matter where he was at the time he would ensure that he would be back for a family Christmas. Without fail he would visit us on Christmas Eve, an event that became as much of a seasonal tradition as turkey and mince pies. This year just wasn’t the same without him. We raised a glass and remembered him fondly.

 

It was a huge blow to us all when the news of Ross’s untimely death reached us. He is dearly missed by me and I’m sure by everyone who had the pleasure to know him.  Ross led life to the full with such vigour. He managed to pack into those 34 years, so many achievements, so many hobbies and so much partying that it makes me tired just thinking about it! If he wasn’t windsurfing he was snowboarding, if he wasn’t studying he was singing Abba’s ‘Dancing Queen’ down the phone to me in the middle of the night, having had a few too many drinks. From Perth to Plymouth, South Africa to Philadelphia, he saw more of the world than most people can only imagine. I personally have so many fond memories of our friendship that it is impossible for me to recount my youth and growing up without mentioning Ross’s name.

 

Mark Ibbs

Boat Drinks

 

Family and friends.

 

We are all here today to pay tribute and to celebrate the life and loves of Ross.

 

I would first like to offer my deepest sympathies to Min, Pete, Angie and Kate for their immense loss.

 

Ross was my best friend.

 

I always thought that when it came for me to stand up in front of people to talk about Ross, it would be as his best man. Just as he had been my best man at my wedding last year. At the time, I knew he was nervous, but he did an admirable job and I hope to do him proud today.

 

 

Ross and I first met 15 years ago when we lived opposite each other in halls of residence at Bristol Medical School.

 

We met within a few days of starting and we were brought together by a mutual love of beer, Bond films and bad music.

 

We quickly became great friends and have pretty much been inseparable since.

 

At university, Ross was always known for his cheeky grin, sense of humour and general out-going nature.

 

He excelled at all aspects of university life. He threw himself into the academic, social and sporting sides of life, all with the same unbridled enthusiasm.

 

There are so many stories I could recount to you from university. However, most of them involve alcohol, a few involve the police and a surprising number involve nudity.

 

I guess there was a reason why Ross was voted torso of the year.

 

 

 

As a doctor, Ross went through several specialities before his final choice of anaesthetics.

 

We all thought that it was because he wanted to do more exams, as in his own word he was an “Exam God”.

 

In truth, he had finally found a speciality that allowed him to display his many talents; utilising his mind, his dexterity and his compassion,  as well as allowing him the freedom to pursue his outdoor exploits.

 

That and also he enjoyed tormenting surgeons.

I remember fondly our endless debates as to which side of the blood brain barrier was more important.

 

It was probably one of the few things we could never agree on.

 

Ross was an excellent anaesthetist and displayed his trademark dedication and commitment in all aspects of his job. He was universally liked and respected by his senior colleagues as well as the junior doctors and the nursing staff.

 

He was well known for his enthusiasm in teaching the juniors and took great pride in his role in their apprenticeship, imparting his knowledge and experience onto the next generation of doctors.

 

He was also popular with colleagues outside of his department, always ready to stop for a chat in the corridor and talk about a patient or as was more common, arrange another social gathering.

 

He brought with him, compassion, integrity, intelligence and a very necessary sense of humour to a physically and emotionally taxing job and I know he absolutely loved his work.

 

 

 

Ross’ other great love was sport.

               

He had a wonderful zest for life and with that came his deep passion for all outdoor activities.

 

Windsurfing, mountain biking, surfing, skiing, he loved all these sports and many more and he attacked each and every one with great enthusiasm and gusto.

 

He delighted in spending time in the outdoors and be it a quick afternoon sail before an evening shift or a week long skiing odyssey with the boys, he loved it all.

 

His love for the outdoors was infectious, with everyone around him swept away by his zeal and happiness.

 

His competitive spirit made him excel at everything as he always put 100% effort into what ever he had turned his mind to.

 

He had more windsurfs, surf boards, bikes, skis and assorted other boy toys than anyone else I ever knew.

 

On one occasion, he was chastised by a friend for spending so much money on windsurf equipment and toys and was told how he should invest wisely in property and the stock market. Ross, in his own inimitable way, just smiled and said for now he was happy with his off-shore investments.

 

You see for Ross, growing old was inevitable but growing up was optional.

 

Our motto used to be “he who died with the most toys wins”. We’ve now changed that mate -  “he who dies with the most friends wins” – you won.

 

 

There are so many things that Ross did well, but looking back, there was one thing that Ross sometimes stumbled with. That was his communication skills with our European neighbours.

 

I remember one incident when we were in Italy last year.

 

Ross was driving the hire car back to the airport along a toll road but had forgotten to pick up a ticket to prove how far he had travelled.

 

When confronted by the Italian ticket officer at the next booth, Ross rolled down the window, smiled his broadest, cheekiest grin, threw up his arms and said –

“No Ticketto. Spaghetti, Ravioli. Carbonara. No Ticketto”

 

Obviously the ticket chap had no idea what Ross was on about and Ross couldn’t understand what he was yelling back.

 

He just kept grinning his trade-mark smile and gesticulated back wildly.

 

By this time, a long queue of irate Italian drivers had started honking their horns behind us and the poor ticket officer had no choice but to let us through without charge!

 

 

Ross’ greatest love was of course his family and Kate.

 

We all here know what a large part Kate has played in Ross’ life over the last 7 years.

 

Over the years their relationship has grown and developed as has their love and mutual understanding for each other.

 

With her, we have seen Ross mature from a boisterous youth into a soppy man.

 

Their home in Plymouth is a true marriage of his boys toys and her pink things and it is a warm, inviting and happy home.

 

Ross was always so loving and generous to Kate and it was the little things that made him so special to her.

 

He delighted in looking after her. Making her sandwiches everyday. Ensuring he used her favourite pink lunch box and always inspecting it on her return to make sure she had eaten all her fruit.

 

He allowed her to use all his cupboard space for her hundreds of clothes and shoes and even gave her the lion’s share of the suitcase when they went on their numerous holidays together.

 

Ross never wanted to be far away from Kate.

 

His love for her was evident from the numerous phone calls he made and text messages he sent her everyday.

 

He was always there to give her a kiss and a reassuring cuddle when ever she needed it.

 

And when she was feeling particularly stressed or down, he would bury her head under his T-shirt, bringing her closer to him and shielding her from the badness.

 

Kate, I am sure that if he could, he would be doing just that today.

 

 

For Ross was the most generous, kind and gentle person I have ever known.

 

Despite his many successes, he remained grounded, modest and ego-less throughout.

 

I know how proud Pete, Min and Angie are of all the incredible things he has achieved.

 

His overwhelming positive outlook on life and ‘carpe diem’ attitude was an inspiration to us all.

 

Whenever we couldn’t keep up with him on bike rides or when skiing, he would always wait for us, never impatient, always encouraging us to push ourselves that little bit more.

 

He made friends effortlessly, with his easygoing nature, charisma and great sense of humour.

 

More importantly, he realised the great value of friendship and would go to great lengths to remain in contact with his friends, no matter where in world he or they may be.

 

He always had time for his friends and was always pleased to see them. No matter how long it had been between meetings, things slipped back into the old ways effortlessly with Ross.

 

It was the simple things that gave Ross the most pleasure.

 

Spending time with family and friends.

 

Having a bacon sandwich on the beach after a glorious day windsurfing.

 

Opening his presents on Christmas morning with a cold glass of champagne on his lap.

 

Ross adored Christmas and I will always have fond memories of spending my Christmases at Dale Farm with Ross and Kate, Pete and Min and Angie and Joe.

 

For Ross, every single day was an adventure, a day to be savoured.

 

Words pale in the shadow of our grief and they seem insufficient to encompass the breadth of the life Ross led.

 

Ross’ truest testimony is in the way he lived his life and the multitudes of family, friends and colleagues he touched with his light.

 

I would like to end by giving thanks for the life of a man, who in his own way affected each and every one of us and whom I am proud to call my best friend.

 

Ross, you are a loyal, honest and true friend.

 

You are a unique and extraordinary individual and though you are gone, the burning passion you had for life, will never be extinguished from our hearts and our minds.

 

 

Vikram Vijayan

30th June 2006


 

Dr. ROSS DAVIS - 1972-2006

 

 

Vikram has spoken of the deep sense of loss felt by all Ross’s medical friends and colleagues from one who met Ross at Bristol Medical School around 15 years ago.  I speak as one of Peter and Minn’s close circle of friends, who remember Ross from his birth in 1972.  And on behalf of all Peter and Minn’s  friends and acquaintances gathered here this afternoon in this ancient parish church, indeed for all who know and love you from around the world, in the USA, in South Africa, in Germany, in Norway, in Australia, Malaysia and beyond, I say how sorry and saddened we are at your loss.  To Kate, Peter and Minn, Angie and Joe, Granny Nancy, Sheila and Nigel and family, I say you have our love and sympathy.  We share your grief and we hope and pray we may in some small way lighten your burden.

 

“Ross was very highly thought of, not only within his own Department of Anaesthetics, but also widely throughout the hospital.  He was undoubtedly destined to do extremely well, and there is a deep sense of shock and loss amongst all his colleagues and friends and acquaintances within the hospital”.  These were the words of Mr Terence Lewis FRCS, Medical Director and Consultant Cardiothoracic Surgeon of the Plymouth Hospital NHS Trust, writing on hearing that Ross had died.

 

“He was destined to do extremely well”.  I believe that destiny was with him almost from birth, as if pre-ordained, and he let slip when he was 13 years old that he wanted to be a brain surgeon, and he could have been having passed his Royal College of Surgeons examination for Membership, but instead he chose to be the best anaesthetist it was possible to be.

 

For one who was so young Ross achieved much, not only in his chosen profession of medicine but also in his relationships with those whom he loved, his partner Kate, his father and mother, Peter and Minn, his sister Angie and Joe, Granny Nancy, Aunt Sheila and Uncle Nigel and his cousins.  As will have been seen from Vik’s remarks Ross formed very close bonds with his fellow students at medical school and beyond.  Ross was an extremely popular and personable young man and we thank God for his life and the joy he brought into the life of those who were cared for by him, and who cared for him during his tragically short life.  And what I have to say is said in humility, because we know we have shared something of the life of a very special person who achieved so much in only 34 short years.

 

The words of St Paul’s first letter to the Corinthians, which I suggested to the family be read today, speak of three things that last forever – faith, hope and love – but St Paul also says “but the greatest of these is love, and no matter what I may do if I have no love I am nothing”.  Love is patient; love is kind and envies no one.  Love is never boastful not conceited, nor rude, never selfish, nor quick to take offence….does not gloat but delights in the truth.  Love never gives up; and its faith, hope and patience never fail.

Love is eternal, said Paul and we know a life that touches the hearts of others goes on forever.  This word love shines through all that Ross did and cared for.

 

  • First and foremost he was brought up in a loving and caring family and he responded to that love by showing equal love for his partner Kate, for his mum and dad, for his sister and his gran and his immediate family.  Peter tells me Ross looked to members of his family for different things -  His father – for financial advice and advice on wine which he loved;  his mother – for advice on his building projects, home decorations, furnishings and food; from sister Angie – emotional advice and common sense (and Peter notes “not one of Ross’s strong points!”)
  • He showed much love to his medical friends and hospital colleagues, witnessed by the large number I know are with us today, including those who have travelled from Plymouth and beyond to be at this service.
  • His love for his job as a Specialist Registrar at The Derriford Hospital, Plymouth and all the patients in his care, and I was touched to learn that at lunchtime on the day after he died a Service of Remembrance for Ross was held in the hospital, to which most of the staff attended, bringing the hospital to a virtual standstill.  Even the coroner who will conduct the inquest attended, remarking to Peter that he had scrubbed up with Ross just two weeks before his death and what a fine young man he was.
  • Ross loved life.  He was always “100% full on”.  In his youth he played water polo with the Paragon Amateur Swimming Club when they were in the National Division and played cricket and hockey for his school.  His job in Plymouth allowed him to take full advantage of the outdoor life, wind surfing, mountain biking and skiing.  He eschewed buying a car; instead he bought a large van so he could take all his tackle around with him more easily.  Although Ross was 200 miles away from his family he was a great communicator, and as his mum and dad are not very good with mobile phones he made frequent phone calls home, often checking out some plan or project.  However, because he was always living flat out, most of these calls would involve a bit of yawning as he only had time to ring before going to bed.

 

This was the man Ross Davis, whose life we are celebrating this afternoon.  Although he was destined to live one year short of half his biblical “four score years and ten” he packed so much into his 34 years.  I think too of a certain carpenter of Nazareth who also had such a short life, one year less than Ross, and what an impact he had on mankind.  Our limited understanding of these things makes us constrained by time and space but no such constraints hinder God, his purpose and plan.  The most frequent human reaction to news of Ross’s tragic and untimely death has been “What a waste!”  But if we believe that life is a precious thing then any life no matter how short is never wasted.

 

Ross was born on 27 February 1972, his mother Marina Kent, to use Minn’s maiden name, was one of the best known people in Ashley because the Kents were an established Ashley family and Minn did the hair of most of the ladies in the village from her salon in Pinewood Road.  Ross was a much loved first-born who began his education at the Hugo Meynell Primary School to be taught by the Reception Class teacher, Mrs Lucas, my wife, whom he called Auntie Cynthia - but always out of school. 

 

Ross was a bright boy in those early days and Cynthia could see his potential.  He then moved to Baldwins Gate Primary School, before passing the entry exams for Newcastle under Lyme School where he shone, particularly at sport.  Minn tells the story of Ross going with the water polo team to Holland when he was about 16.  She and Angie dropped him off at the school and then went on to Tesco’s to do some shopping.  At the check out she spied Ross and his mates queuing with packs of beer to put in the school mini-bus for the trip.  Naturally, Ross tried to be as inconspicuous as possible, but the check out lady asked “are these boys old enough, to which the young Angie replied in a flash – yes”.

 

Two incidents from my family’s own memory of Ross growing up stand out.  The Davis and Lucas families were on holiday in the Costa Blanca, Spain.  Our youngest, Charlotte, was about 12 and she was being blown out to sea on her windsurfer.  Ross, two years older, was deputed by Minn to do the rescue, but Ross had to leave his glasses onshore and without them he couldn’t see very well.  Nevertheless, he swam out to Charlotte to where he thought she was with such determination and energy only to find when he got there she had drifted on to the rocks and she was 90 degrees from where he was, safe and sound.  And on another family holiday our two families were playing a week long game of “Trivial Pursuits” and winning or losing depended on the last question as we were both neck and neck.  We got it right and won and Ross was incandescent jumping up and down because he’d lost – such was his 100% competitive spirit even at that age.  But Peter tells me his first sport was fishing, which he developed a passion for at their sea-side holiday cottage at Criccieth in Wales, where he fished for mackerel when he was five or six.  Ponies were too slow for him.  There were no “go-faster stripes”.

 

Determined to get to Bristol and turning down an offer from Manchester University Medical School, Ross did a gap year before Bristol.  His first job was as a “butler” to two team members on a Devon cricket tour, and his second was working as a warehouseman at Balterley bathrooms, and part time labourer during renovations to Dale Farm, the family home.  He obtained top A-level grades and went up to Bristol Medical School, where he worked and played hard.

 

So his first 19 years were here in Ashley and the next 15 were in the south west, apart from 15 months in Perth, Western Australia.  He loved his life in Plymouth and the quality of life it gave him for his working conditions, his windsurfing and cycling.  As the website specially set up by Vikram and friends says, “windsurfing was never far from his thoughts and his love of it would rub off on all who knew him, his enthusiasm for life, love of the outdoors, sense of humour, selfless nature, were obvious and infectious”.

 

Tributes to Ross the child, to Ross the young adult and Ross the man, to Ross the doctor, to Ross the loving partner, son, brother and grandson, have poured in from people who knew him from around the world.  He had a tragically short life but a full one, and his larger than life personality, his infectious humour – all that was and is Ross Davis will stay in our collective memories for ever.  I said earlier that a life that touches others goes on forever, and so it will be with Ross.  For he touched the hearts, minds and lives of so many and we who knew him well will never forget him.

 

Ross reached out to us all in his many different ways and our lives are richer for knowing him.  St Paul said Love never gives up; and its faith, hope and patience never fail.  Love is eternal.  I firmly believe that there is an eternity to any God given life and there is an eternity to the one whose life we are celebrating in this country church this afternoon. 

 

To Kate, Peter, Minn and all the family, we say thank you for sharing him with us for 34 years, you have our love and sympathy, but we know that you rejoice with us in the celebration of a wonderful life filled with that eternal love of which St Paul spoke so movingly some 2,000 years ago.

 

 

Ronald WG Lucas

30.06.06

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