Staffordshire mother “no longer enjoys living” after son killed by dangerous driver

As part of our 'Look Again' road safety campaign, we are sharing the real stories of those whose lives have been destroyed by dangerous drivers.

On the evening of Friday 15 July 2022, Ross Hartland was in a buoyant mood. He had the whole weekend ahead of him and he’d left work early to see a woman that he’d been dating in Stratford upon Avon.

He was also looking forward to the first post-pandemic summer and the opportunity to enjoy some quality time with his friends and family, whom he adored, while his beloved West Ham United were about to embark on another European campaign.

He was in a good place and life was on the up.

That’s what makes the events that followed all the more harrowing.

At around 5pm, Ross was travelling along the A5 eastbound in Shenstone when another car, being driven at 82mph, hit the back of him. The speed of the offending car was so high that the momentum forced Ross’s car off the road and into a tree, causing it to overturn.

Having suffered serious head and chest injuries, he was rushed to hospital, where he spent 12 days in intensive care. After tests revealed significant brain damage, the heartbreaking decision was made to switch his life support machine off.

He was aged 40.

As well as being a football fanatic and a music lover, he was a brother, a grandson, an uncle, a neighbour and a dear friend.

He was, of course, also a son, and for his mother, Jakki, his passing has left a hole that she doesn’t even want to try to fill.

To say that life has never been the same again would be an understatement.

Jakki Hartland said: “Ross was the heartbeat of every social setting he was in. I know it’s a cliché, but he really did light up a room.

“He just had this wicked sense of humour and he had no filters at all when he was talking to someone. I remember one time we were in a restaurant and he asked the waitress if she’d had her lips done – he just came out with it from nowhere.

“Obviously, he didn’t ever mean anything by it, but that was just Ross. He’d say things that most other people wouldn’t even dream of thinking, let alone saying, but it’s those quirks, those eccentric parts of his personality, that made Ross who he was and that’s what we all miss so much.

“He was also incredibly generous, especially with his time, which is particularly cruel when you consider that he didn’t even have that much of it in the end.

“But the most haunting part of remembering all of the amazing things about my son is that, whenever I think about being with him in those moments, I just feel so guilty. Guilty that I never took a second longer to look at his infectious smile or that mischievous glint in his eye. Guilty that life has worked out the wrong way around – that the child has died whilst the parent is still alive. Guilty that, despite telling him every day, I didn’t tell him more often how much I love him.

“It’s a guilt that never goes away, and in some ways, I don’t want it to, because it’s almost like if I ever get over losing Ross, if I ever come to terms with what happened, and if this anchor-like guilt ever stops weighing me down, then it will be like I’ve forgotten him.

“I’ve still got a voicemail from him on my phone. Whenever I need to hear him just to get me through the day, I listen to his voice and, just for a little while, it feels like he’s still with me.

“One day, one of the family dogs chewed my phone up and I was absolutely distraught because I needed those voicemails. I needed to hear Ross’s voice.

“Thankfully, I managed to get them all back, but I didn’t care what the cost was. I could live without money and without a phone, but I couldn’t live without his voice.”

The impacts of Ross’s death have been far-reaching. His sister, a couple of years his senior, has attended support groups to try to come to terms with her grief.

Meanwhile, when one of his nieces was taking driving lessons, she had to go past Wall Island, the roundabout near to where he was hit. The mere sight of the place where her uncle had been killed threw her into such a panic. It’s also left his youngest niece, now aged only seven, petrified of the road, petrified of drivers and petrified of even moderate speed.

For Jakki, however, the simple aftermath is that life has become a burden, rather than something to enjoy.

She said: “I’d be lying if I said that life was, in any way, good. I walk around with this knife pushed deep into my heart. I defy you to find me someone that could enjoy life whilst suffering that kind of pain.

“Honestly, I don’t even know who I am anymore. But what I do know is that I will never be that same person again. It’s like I’m not Jakki, like I’m just living life through the eyes of someone else.

“Before, I was always meeting friends, going out to restaurants. I used to be such an outgoing person. For 35 years, I worked front-of-house in casinos. I was the first person people would see when they walked in.

“But that’s how I used to be. It’s like I’ve slowly retreated into my shell and I just can’t bring myself to come out. I don’t go anywhere now and I can only really handle seeing a select circle of people that I keep safe.

“Even when I do see other people, they have no idea what to say to me anymore. No matter where I am or what I’m doing, I’ll be asked ‘How are you doing without Ross?’. I’m quite good at putting up a front, but the whole time, I’m thinking ‘If only you knew…’.

One thing that Jakki has been able to rely on for comfort is The Compassionate Friends, a charity-run peer-support group for bereaved parents. A volunteer-led organisation with local groups all over the country, it allows people to come together to share their experiences of losing a child.

Jakki said: “The Compassionate Friends has completely saved me. Every single person there has lost a child and that’s of any age, from baby to adult, and the causes of death could be suicide, drugs-related or an incident on the road.

“I go once a month and the reason why I say it’s saved me is that everybody there understands what it is you’re going through. You don’t even have to say anything – everyone is there for the same reason. They know how I’m feeling and I know how they’re feeling.

“I wish I could go every week, to be honest. It’s 40 minutes away, but I’d travel anywhere to get there.

“It’s weird how you end up forming such close bonds with people that you would ordinarily never have met. That being said, and I know I speak for everyone when I say this, it’s a club that you never want to be a member of.

“I did try counselling. I’ve got post-traumatic stress disorder, but I wasn’t allowed to start treatment for that until the court case was over. I’ve had four sessions so far, but it’s just too tough for me at the moment.

“No disrespect to the counsellor, I know he’s trying to do his job in the best way he can, but he just can’t relate to what I’m going through. I found it particularly hard to take when he told me that he knew what I was going through because he’d lost his dad.

“Actually, no, he doesn’t know the first thing about what I’m going through. You expect to lose your parents at some point, but nobody ever expects to lose a child.”

For Jakki, the merciless reality of losing someone in a car crash caused by a dangerous driver has opened her eyes to how hazardous the road can be. What stays with her in particular is the fact that even the most careful of drivers aren’t immune from the reckless actions of others.

She said: “You could be driving completely safely and responsibly, adhering to all the speed limits and respecting other road users, just like my Ross was. But it only takes that one person to be unsafe and irresponsible, to disregard the law and to show a complete thoughtlessness and disrespect for everyone else and suddenly you’ve ended one life and destroyed dozens more.

“The day after the crash, the police were at the hospital and I was trying to ask about what caused the crash. Was it that someone had had a heart attack behind the wheel? Had an animal run across the road and caused someone to swerve into Ross? Those are things that are unavoidable.

“I’ve even met people through the support group whose children have died of illnesses. I’m not, in any way, trying to belittle the pain that all of their loved ones have gone through, but there was nothing that anyone could have done to stop them from dying. It’s tragic luck, not someone’s bad choice.

“But when it’s speed-related, that is avoidable and that’s what I find so hard to take. There was no need for that young man to have been driving so fast. It was a pointless and selfish choice that’s taken my boy away from me.”

Jakki readily admits that, prior to Ross’s death, she hadn’t fully grasped the devastation that is caused by dangerous driving and dangerous drivers. After all, hearing on the news that someone has been killed in a collision can often seem a world away from reality. But, having endured nothing but suffering over the last two years, she is now calling on all road users to be careful and considerate, so that no other parent has to go through the same experiences.

She said: “People need to be more responsible. It’s as simple as that. But I think that those attitudes begin at home. If you’ve got parents that go through life with the mentality that actions don’t have consequences and that other people’s lives don’t matter, then you are obviously going to have children that think the same way.

“That’s what I really want to get through to people. As a society, I think we need to take speeding and road safety a lot more seriously. All the time, you see people doing way more than 70mph on the motorway or doing 50 in a 30, but I wonder how many of us actually think about the potential consequences of that choice to drive at that speed.

“If you are somebody that speeds, how much more quickly are you likely to reach your destination? One or two minutes maybe.

“On the flipside, how likely are you to be involved in a serious crash that could not only kill you, but anyone else on the road too? Well, I think the fact that I’m sat here telling my story answers that question.

“I don’t know where that young man was going that day, I don’t know why he was driving at the speed he was and I don’t know if he even saw my son before hitting him.

“But wherever he was going, however much of a hurry he was in, whatever else may have distracted him when he was behind the wheel, I wonder if he’s sat there in his prison cell thinking that it was all worth it.

“He’s killed someone’s brother, uncle, grandson, friend…and my son. And for what?

“So, if I can just reach even one person to alert them, first-hand, to the very real dangers and consequences of speeding, then I hope I am still able to do some good. Even in death, I want my son’s life to continue to have meaning.

“You know, life is cruel. Two weeks before Ross was hit, I was in Birmingham and I saw this terrible pile-up and thought to myself ‘Oh God, how awful.’ and just drove past. It’s almost like you don’t think it will happen to you until it does.

“Ross did nothing wrong that day. He was driving exactly as he should have been. He’s dead because of someone else’s actions.

 “The fact is, if all people drove safely and carefully with their full attention on the road and with great consideration of others, we would see far fewer car-related deaths. And if that young man had then my boy would still be alive.

 “So, my message to you, directly, is please drive at a sensible speed. Please drive within the speed limit of the road you’re on. Please drive according to the conditions of the road. Please think about whether you would be happy with killing one person and destroying an entire family.

“I’m broken and there is nothing that anyone can do or say that can put those pieces back together. But there is no need for anyone else to know what this pain feels like.

“As a mother – as Ross’s mother – I am pleading with you to understand the endless pain that dangerous driving causes.”

In October 2023, the offending driver, aged 22 at the time of the collision, pleaded guilty at Stafford Crown Court to causing death by driving without due care and attention. On 22 January 2024, he was sentenced to 16 months in prison and disqualified from driving for 32 months. He will serve eight months, by which point his driving ban will be 24 months.

For Jakki and her family, however, their grief is a life sentence. We thank her for sharing her story.