Ooof. Almost here. There. The first preview of Laughing Boy is tomorrow. Updates about production progress and the sharing of gems of film and music magic projections continue. A family whatsapp jibber ujabber earlier sparked a playlist of Connor’s favourite songs for when audience members take their seats. Another tumble into joyful memories. The bus trip from Oxford tomorrow afternoon will include Connor’s favourite sarnies; cheese and pickle and sandwich spread [don’t judge]. Among the audience will be Connor’s babysitter Izzy, and two of his teaching assistants Sue and Jude, as well as family, friends and campaigners. Funny exchanges with the theatre box office as Penny Horner cheerfully juggles our chaotic ticket sales, returns and more. The #JusticeforLB quilt will be on display at St James’s, Piccadilly for the next five weeks.
I still blink in awe at the insights this gig offers. It seems like the (cosy?) 4 weeks in the rehearsal room has a ritual ‘ending’ (last Saturday) when a van picks up traces/props and moves the team to the theatre for the final few days of rehearsals. The set designer, video creative, composer and music designer move in with tech gear and spend 12 hour days working, with the cast in out in out, costumes on and shake it all about, to a final dress rehearsal tomorrow afternoon. Wincingly sharp timelines seem to be calmly absorbed by everyone.
Work. Expertise, absorption, creativity. Commitment.
Media coverage has continued with thoughtful contributions from John Harris in the Guardian and Victoria McDonald on Channel 4 News. Re-watching the Sloven director being carefully questioned by Victoria McDonald in a news clip from the end of Connor’s inquest was quite something. Nearly nine years on it offers brutal clarity around the absurdity and ignorance of those involved who should have known better and done better.
This coverage led to several people getting in touch. People who have experienced ‘similar’ failings, old friends, acquaintances and colleagues, names and faces from the distant past before life took a turn. People involved in the campaign. A warm wash of well wishes. [Thank you.]
The play is, as Steve Unwin has consistently said, political. It highlights wider systemic failings that should be the making of scandal and action. Over and over again. Following on from The Lonely Londoners, the play will, through its writing, direction, design and execution make audiences (and those involved in the production) take notice, think and question. As we all should.
Right now though, I’m thinking about this…
mydaftlife 
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Hello Sara. I am so pleased that I can get to see the play Laughing Boy about your precious son, Connor. Two years ago I was living in the far west of Cornwall and it would have been impossible, but after my husband’s death (today his birthday anniversary), I moved to Wallington, which means it’s now possible. I find travel to new places triggers anxiety, but I want to come, so I will get there, and booked myself onto the 25th May matinee (non-diagnosed at nearly 72 and female, but likely I am on the autistic spectrum and with ADHD explaining much about my life).
The preview was yesterday so I hope it was all you hoped it would be. I have read and watched the review links – it looks wonderful. I have little background history in drama, but in my 50s I joined an amazing community dance/theatre group in Cornwall called Shallal. It’s open to adults with all kinds of disabilities who perform alongside those without disability. It was started by Jo Willis – still going and has expanded now about 30 years on.
I think I first heard of your blog in late 2015 when I read the report in the Guardian of Connor’s untimely and tragic death. I was by then living in Cornwall, but I had lived in the catchment area of this health trust, Southern for maybe 20 years. I was horrified to read of the huge numbers of deaths of patients in their care, with learning disability and with mental health problems. I read your blog and I read the news as it unfolded. My own son with Tourette Syndrome and Schizophrenia had been sectioned in 2009, and I slowly realised that his care since release had been deficient. Despite a nurse visiting him to give him his depot injection, his declining mental health was not noted, and neither was his lack of self care seemingly of any concern. When we moved away, our son was working, with difficulty, and now he was barely coping, and we didn’t realise how bad things were until we visited his flat. We had both been ill too, so it was hard for us, but I could not let this go.
I have to say Sara, that it was your campaign against Southern Health with regard to Connor’s death that galvanised me into trying to get a better deal for my son. I am well educated, but I soon realised that there were things I didn’t know. I discovered that on release from section, he had never been given a social care assessment. Also I discovered that there was a whole Section 117 devoted to the care he could receive free of charge (discovered by a chance conversation with a mental health charity, not with the Health Trust). I tried to get Direct Payments for my son, but the local CMHT dragged its feet.
As a result I decided to put in an official complaint to the Health Trust, and in doing so got all that I asked for re the Direct Payments – the equivalent of 28 hrs of support a week, which he has to this day. The letter was signed by the woman at the top who later resigned, Katrina Percy.
Given the number of deaths in their ‘care’ (and sadly I believe, in other trusts too), one has to wonder how many ‘near misses’ there have been. Inevitably there will have been many. I feel that my son, Luke, might have been one, given the mental state he was in when we visited him. Only 5 or so years ago, he was still on depot injections, and he failed to go to the building for his injection (by then they were no longer visiting to do them), and no one noticed! For 3 months or more no one picked up that he was absent, and it was only his carer intervening that made Luke finally call them and admit that he hadn’t had his medication – at which point would they have noticed I wonder? I won’t go on, but there have been other things that have happened there, that were amiss (and a 2nd complaint sent).
I am so looking forward to the play and hope that it will be a memorable time for you to look back on.
With very kind regards Elaine Stammers
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