Richard McCann's mother died when he was six years old.
The loss of a parent at any age can be devastating; but the death of Wilma McCann in Leeds in October, 1975, proved to be of especial significance to Richard and his three sisters. She was the first woman the Yorkshire Ripper succeeded in killing.
In his statement to West Yorkshire Police on January 4, 1981, Bradford lorry driver Peter Sutcliffe said he had attacked and killed Wilma McCann because she had insulted him. An "inner compulsion" was prompted by that killing, he said.
There were to be at least a dozen more before he was arrested, charged and in May, 1981, convicted on 13 counts of murder and seven of attempted murder.
When Wilma McCann failed to return home to the Scott Hall estate by 5.30am on that penultimate morning in October, Richard and his sister Sonia got out of bed and went looking for her.
Instead they found a policeman. In Richard McCann's book Just a Boy, he describes how later that morning the children were taken to Beckett's Park Children's Home.
"As we came in with the policeman, the staff seemed to be expecting us. We were given cups of hot chocolate and taken to a room with a television. After a while, once we were settled in comfortably, the policeman came back in to see us. He felt more like a friend by now. He sat down and said he had something to tell us.
"Your mum has been taken to heaven'," he said. You won't be seeing her any more'."
Richard and his sisters were the first of 23 children to be left motherless by Peter Sutcliffe's frenzied assaults with hammer, knife and sharpened screwdriver. Wilma McCann was struck twice on the head with a hammer. Sutcliffe then stabbed her 17 times.
Last week a memorial service was held at St Aiden's Church, Leeds, for those families and friends whose lives have been violated by murder or manslaughter. Richard hopes this will be an annual event.
The victims of murder or manslaughter are not just the ones who are killed but also the others who are left behind. Murder is a physical and mental violation the effects of which never go away.
"We were only talking about that the other night," Richard said, referring to the support group he set up two years ago in Leeds at the behest of the national body Support after Murder and Manslaughter (SAMM).
"I was watching a TV programme in 1994 and saw a scene with a woman being murdered. I leapt to my feet and screamed and screamed. I felt my mum was being murdered. You have constant reminders that come out of the blue, if someone says the wrong word or you hear a song.
"There is no technique for dealing with grief and anger. But talking about these feelings is better than bottling them up.
"The other night I woke up and thought, Do I really understand that a man murdered my mum?' I had to ponder on that. It's not something you can tell the neighbours; but there is no problem sharing that with a member of the group."
But let's go back to the mid-1970s and the violated lives of Richard McCann and his sisters Sonia, Donna and Angela. He was eight when he heard the truth about his mother's death.
"She was described as a prostitute, but that wasn't the mum I knew. So I tried to block out how she had really died. All of us did not talk about it. We were not encouraged to. When I went to live with my dad and his new girlfriend we were told to call her mum. We didn't go to my mother's grave until I was 16," he said.
On June 26, 1977, the body of 16-year-old Jayne MacDonald was found about 100 yards away from her home in Scott Hall Avenue, Leeds. She lived six or seven doors away from the McCanns; in fact she had sometimes babysat for the family. Peter Sutcliffe killed her too.
When nine-year-old Richard McCann heard what had happened to his friendly young neighbour, he concluded that the murderer was stalking him.
"I was convinced that the killer was watching the house from across the field and that he would come back and kill me. That's when I learned about killings and death. In 1978, my dad and a neighbour took me to a quarry. My dad was searching for bits of wood to build something. I started screaming because I thought the killer was going to leap out and attack me."
Richard and his sisters survived childhood with their father, a man whose temper was fuelled by drink. To punish Richard for one transgression he grabbed the boy by the throat and twice ducked his head into a bath of water, threatening to drown him if he repeated the misdemeanour.
"I was showing early signs of being violent like my father," he said. "At one point I threatened to throw a girlfriend out of a window. Aged 20, I actually whipped her with a stick.
"I was very insecure. I had hundreds and hundreds of relationships which failed. After a few weeks I was convinced that a girl would ditch me. I needed constant reassurance, but at the same time I was being unfaithful because I wanted something to fall back on in case I was ditched.
"I had no confidence. I was ashamed of my thin body and ginger hair. I thought that when I had a family I would repeat my father's behaviour."
Wilma McCann's murder was a life-defining event for Richard. The negative impact which, as we have seen, was all-pervading, culminated in 1997 after he came out of prison for possession of ecstasy with intent to supply. He said: "I didn't have a job, I was in danger of losing my house. I discussed the possibility with Sonia of killing ourselves. She went out that day, got drunk and took 30 tablets. She rang me and asked me to join her. That was the shock I needed. I called an ambulance."
Richard's life touched bottom not once but many times; but coming close to giving up the struggle appears to have renewed his determination to resurface.
Two days before the mortgage company was due to repossess his house, Richard applied for a job as a warehouse supervisor in a fashion company and was accepted. To pay off bank and credit card debts of £4,000 he took another job, working weekends as a newspaper telesales assistant. Eventually he joined Leeds Writers' Circle, wrote the synopsis of what was to become Just a Boy and had the manuscript accepted by a London literary agent.
His book has sold 400,000 copies, reaching The Sunday Times Top Ten Bestseller list. He is currently writing a novel and visits schools and prisons giving motivational talks.
Richard works for the Youth Offending Service in Leeds and attends the monthly meetings of the SAMM group he organised.
If all that sounds a bit too good to be true, there is more. About 18 months ago Richard got married to Helen, a midwife. The ceremony took place on the Isle of Skye - where Richard's mother had lived when she was a teenager. Richard and his wife have two children.
Married life with young children is not without its struggles, rows and occasional flare-ups. But the journey towards the light goes on.
"It's gone a long way to challenging the stereotype of repeating domestic violence. There are times when we have been in arguments and I can understand why someone not in check of their emotions could lash out; but I know that to do that would be wrong," he added.
Counselling and psycho-analysis helped Richard start the journey to recovery. The support group he started in Leeds, which has met about 30 times, also helps by offering a space for him to bring his troubles.
"Our group allows people to utter crazy thoughts and dreams. We are all in the same boat. We can comfort one another. There is a non-judgmental atmosphere," he said.
His sister Sonia still struggles with her demons. Richard will always be there for her, but knows that he cannot live her life for her.
He has accepted the painful truth that the road to redemption starts within. What counts is not what happens to you but what you do about it. Be the change you want to see in the world. On Richard McCann's website his name is printed in grey with the letters i Can picked out in orange.
- Anyone whose life has been violated by murder or manslaughter wishing to contact an appropriate support group should first ring SAMM on (0207) 7353838.
