Dying like a man part 1

  • By Thomas Gold
  • 10 Sep, 2018

Back in 2004 a friend of mine took his own life. he was one of a great many British men to do so that year. He was in the age bracket of men most likely commit suicide and was statistically 4 times more likely to suffer this fate than a woman of the same age. These deaths, while tragic, are part of a steady trend and something we're becoming more used to hearing about.

The way he chose to take his life however was not.

Alister's hobby was skydiving and during a jump from 15,000 feet, he deliberately removed his parachute shortly after leaving the plane, striking the ground a minute or so later at 'terminal velocity', about 120mph. His body was found the following day in a cornfield.

I always imagined him lying peacefully, one hand across his chest looking dignified and noble in death but deep down I know this was not the case. 

He was a long time friend of my partner and had recently separated from his wife. In the weeks leading up to his death he had been staying with us while he figured out his next moves.

I liked him from the start. He was a man's man in the traditional sense; quiet, stoical, handsome, tough and generous to a fault. You never got his advice without asking and even then it would be brief but it was always worth listening to.

Skydiving, like most minority interests, is close community and his death had a terrible effect on those of us who knew him, not least of all because it came with absolutely no warning but also because he was universally liked and respected. For those closest to him, and I knew many of them, his death also prompted a great deal of self recrimination and anger. How was it he could not share his pain? Why, when surrounded as he was by people who would have done anything for him did he not reach out? 

A week later we gathered at the drop zone and after many drinks one of the company quietly admitted that if you have to go then surely there was no braver or more noble - and indeed, manly - way to do so.  He had died like a man. I and a good few others concurred whole heartedly. It felt like the one small thing that could be salvaged from among the wreckage he had left behind, and there was wreckage, as a father of two and a well known and popular man there was no shortage of it.

The truly disgusting behaviour of the tabloid press in the immediate aftermath and Alister's reasons for taking his own life are another story but as a traditionally raised man myself I still struggle to reconcile the admiration I have for his courage that day with the pain it caused and what I know now.

For me personally its about recognising that so much of what I was brought up to believe about masculinity and manliness is obsolete. Its hard though, 'manning up' is a like a comfort blanket left over from my infancy; when things get tough the simple tenets of traditional manliness are always there to fall back on - keep your feelings hidden, tell everyone you're fine, stay strong and above all never shed a tear. Its so much easier than admitting you can't cope or asking for help or allowing your grief to have its moment. I'm working on it though.

If you're interested in issues of traditional vs modern masculinity you might be interested in joining Beyond the Mancave. There is a Facebook Group Facebook group and more importantly a Meetup Meetup group. We're getting together for the first time in October. No rituals, no role play, no 'deep work' and no pressure. We're just going to light a fire, hang the kettle and talk.