Losing a Best Friend – in Memory of Paul Ruff

Losing a Best Friend – in Memory of Paul Ruff

The early part of 2016 has been especially challenging.  I write just before Easter, and most of the major things are still ongoing and dragging on.  Much of my world is just the same.  Coping day to day is just so difficult.  I’m trapped in this world where others rule over me, and no matter how hard I continue to try, I can’t escape.

But on top of all that, and indeed mixed into all the normal stuff, came the loss of two friends, one of whom had become one of the few best friends I’ve had over a period of 20 years.  As I write, I’m still dealing with things, and waiting perhaps for all of the emotions to come out.

Paul in 2002.  Photo courtesy of Michael Hill.

It was agreed with Paul’s brother, and the Vicar the words I have written and read at Paul's funeral, and those of a poem (written in green), chosen by Paul’s brother, would be shared in Paul’s memory, so those not able to be at his funeral today can share in today, and to help those others who knew him be able to pay their respects.  We were encouraged to think of our own memories of Paul today, and hopefully these words will help you do this.  The words below the poem are the words I prepared and read at Paul’s funeral.  

Photo courtesy of Michael Hill.

Poem taken from www.poemsandreflections.com

Takin’ The Train To Heaven

Heaven’s train has come ’a callin’
The conductor tells me “time to go”
I hadn’t seen it comin’
I wish that I’d ‘a known

Soft smoke is billowin’, billowin’ up
The train whistles a fluted sound
And up eternity’s track we go
Leavin’ this earthly ground

I’d like to have known my passage was booked
The fare paid…my departure planned
For I was still battling courageously
When from life-to-death I spanned

So here I stand on the departure docks
And into eternity I’ll go
But I’ll leave part of my heart with you
So you will always know…

THAT I LOVE YOU

-

I’ve found my seat now on the train
It’s feelin’ more like home
As for baggage…we all have none
C’ept for love n’ memories we’ve known  

My ticket’s punched and handed back
After searchin’ my heart and face
I find it reads: “FIRST CLASS TO HEAVEN”
“THROUGH CHRIST’S ATONING GRACE”

And suddenly I’m feelin’ so much calm
‘Bout where I’ve been and where I’m goin’
And I can trust you all to God’s sweet grace
For his mercies you’ll be knowin’

I can see you all so clearly
As the train chugs n’ we depart
You’re all remainin’ so close to me
Where does Life end n’ Heaven start?

I still can reach out n’ touch you
So I’ll be sendin’ my love each day
Your sorrow’s gonna ease with time
Yet my deep love’ll always stay

-

The train begins to slow down now…
We’re arrivin’ at eternity
As heav’nly mansions come into view…
Glorious as they can be!

So don’t be filled with sadness…
For I’m here in peaceful abode
The train simply brought me back to my God
And the joys of my heav'nly home.

Poem Copyright 2012-2014 Poems And Reflections LLC.
All Rights Reserved.

I was still at junior school when I first met Paul Ruff.  As a child, I watched trains from the back of Dad’s garage on Tentercroft Street, Lincoln – at the rear of Lincoln Central railway station.  I’d noticed this man, who I came to know as Paul, at the other end of the wall which contained the fire escapes to the industrial units.  Over time, we had several conversations, and a friendship was formed which would go on to be lifelong.  At a young age, I was the one learning from Paul.  As the years went on, the friendship became much more equal.  I was able to show Paul things as well as he showing me.

Going back to those early days, Paul would come to the garage with notes for me, to be passed on via my Dad, or during school holidays and on Saturday mornings, come and spend quite a lot of time with me there.  As I grew up, I started doing some proper work at the garage, but Paul would always come and find me if there was a train about which I needed to know about.  Over the years, these roles seemingly reversed, as latterly I would be the one telling Paul about what he should look out for.

Paul was the one who taught me how the railways worked, and how things fitted together – something which is probably still to this day my biggest interest.  He taught me how to accurately log the trains I was seeing, and to this day, I still maintain records similar to the way he taught me.  I remember him making some cardboard block instruments, enough for the 4 signalboxes at Lincoln, and we would “play trains” and signal them through our cardboard Lincoln!  After several years, this interest culminated in me joining the Gainsborough Model Railway Society shortly after passing my driving test.  I arrived part way through a bank holiday Monday exhibition, took a keen interest in Werrington Junction, and was by the end of the afternoon, operating it!

That understanding of the block system was now being put into practise.  After a few months, I’d starting learning other parts of the railway.  I then started taking Paul along, and between us, we gained knowledge and experience of running what is a very intensive railway.  Paul was a member there for ten years.  In time, Paul took over my position on the committee, which he held until his death.  He took over responsibility for the scenery, and in the times I wasn’t there, assisted with operating matters too.  He ran many signalboxes on the railway to a high standard, and could even put his hand to teaching some of the newer members from time to time.  Paul was a great asset to the Gainsborough Model Railway Society, and his input, knowledge and presence will be greatly missed, whilst his work will remain visible to members and visitors alike for many years to come.

Back to the earlier days, and before we joined the Gainsborough Model Railway, Paul would come to our house one evening per week, have dinner with us, and then we would spend our evening mostly working on turning my childhood train set into a more adult model railway.  Sadly, we never did get the project finished, but we had ideas and bits and pieces built.  Our attention moved to Gainsborough instead.

Paul introduced me to many other railway enthusiasts in Lincoln, and some of the staff too.  When I was at college one day per week, I regularly spent the evening afterwards at Lincoln station spotting, and even helping the staff at times.  We spent many, many hours in some of the offices at Lincoln station – in some cases all hours of the day and night.  Part social, part business, and part perhaps just making a nuisance of ourselves.  At one time, we would meet up on a Saturday afternoon, when Paul and I, with the help of one of the fitters, would prepare dinner for whoever was on duty that evening.  It wasn’t a la carte, but there was always plenty to go round!

In my younger days, my parents entrusted me to Paul, and armed with a car from my Dad, Paul would drive us to whatever location we chose to go.  I did my first all-night spotting session with Paul, at Lincoln, for just 4 trains.  Although it would take another 15 years to get any more sleeper trains through Lincoln!  Sometimes we would go out on the train too.  Back when Central Trains ran services around Lincoln, we could get £10 tickets to a range of destinations – the favourites being Cardiff and Liverpool.  Except we often didn’t actually make Cardiff, and I don’t think we ever made Liverpool.  I remember one “Liverpool” trip which was really a trip to Manchester with Warrington added on.  In those days on a Saturday at Warrington, one could see a much greater variety of locomotives stabled than today.  All was well on our £10 tickets (though mine was £5 as I was under 16), until we got to Derby (having travelled from Warrington via Manchester and Crewe).  Our train to Nottingham to connect into the last train to Lincoln was something like 45 minutes late.  We had 30 minutes or more at Nottingham, but not now.  The first train to Nottingham turned out to be the all stations local service, which was let away from Derby ahead of the late running express.  We arrived into Nottingham to see the tail lights of the last train to Lincoln.  We went to give our case to the station management.  From this train being late were two taxis to Worksop, one for Mansfield, two for Grantham, one for Sleaford and Skegness, and at least two for Lincoln.  Paul and I were put in this taxi, which had £4 on the meter when we got to Lincoln.  It was of course paid for by the railway, but we’d only paid £15 for our combined tickets!

Eventually of course, I passed my driving test, and now I drove Paul to various railway stations around the country.  Once, I drove us all the way to Cardiff for the last of the loco hauled trains on the Rhymney valley services.  We soon formed part of the regular meetings of Freightmaster Interactive, although Paul never was an official member, and I ceased to be several years ago.  Even when Paul wasn’t able to attend as many meets as me, he was always asked of and was highly regarded by the group for his knowledge and understanding of railway operation, as well as his friendship.  We did several overnight trips over the years too – which was an economical way of making two trips in one over two days and a night!

In adulthood, I would often see Paul a couple of times per week – once taking him to Gainsborough to the model railway, and often at the weekend when I went into Lincoln.  Latterly, we would often sit down on a Saturday afternoon in the library in Lincoln, and just talk.  It’s something I’d never been able to do regularly, but something I found I could do with Paul.  As I’ve come to understand the autism I have, I realise now just how wonderful a friend Paul has been to me.  Outside of my family, Paul has been the only friend who has been there over a 20 year period, and I can honestly say we never fell out once.  Paul was always quite private, and talked little about himself to me, except of railway related things in his past.  Indeed, since he passed away, we learnt he rarely talked to anyone about anything outside of that group and things related to it.  Piecing together different people and different parts of Paul’s life over the past month or two has been challenging, but is finally coming together.

It was hard to see Paul in such obvious pain and discomfort during the last couple of months of his life.  But, I give thanks that he is now at peace, and shortly to be at rest.  I hope he will be in railway paradise now, watching over us, and the railways big and small, until we are called to join him in peace.  Paul Ruff was a best friend to me.  I will never replace him, and some of the holes left will be hard to fill.  The hardest thing of the last few weeks was learning of another friend of us both having passed away, and immediately thinking “I must go and see Paul” – then realising he wouldn’t be there.

In a world where making friends and keeping a friendship are so difficult for me, Paul was just that, a friend I kept for life.