Lucus Boyd, from left, Olliver Ramsay, Hunter Tasker-Ramsay and Sarah Ramsay, with Munta the dog, are grieving the loss of Jacob Ramsay. Photo / Tara Shaskey
As the last of those responsible is sentenced for the death of Jacob Ramsay, who was beaten, chained to a car and towed along a tanker track, his widow and their children speak to Tara Shaskey about the horrific murder and how they are keeping the farm worker’s memory alive.
If 7-year-old Hunter had one more moment with his dad, he would ask him to “squeeze the cheese”.
He laughs feverishly when he explains that was what his dad, Jacob Ramsay, would declare before hugging him tightly and making a “fart” sound, teasing that the youngster had broken wind.
It’s an act indicative of the type of father Ramsay was. Equal parts goofy and fun, loving and affectionate.
Now, he’s 13 months old. He’s walking, climbing on furniture, playing with his toys and trying to talk.
His growth is a reminder of how long his father has been gone.
The 33-year-old’s body was found in the rubbish pit at a dairy farm in Ōaonui, South Taranaki.
He had been beaten into unconsciousness by his colleagues William Candy, 39, and Ethan Webster, 19.
Then, on the tanker track at the farm, where they all worked and lived in separate farmhouses, Candy chained him to the back of a car by his ankle and he and Webster towed him for almost one kilometre across gravel.
Jodie Hughes, Candy’s partner, was acquitted of murder but found guilty of manslaughter at trial in August.
She was angry that Ramsay owed her and Candy about $250 for methamphetamine. As payback, she burgled his home and encouraged the attack. On Friday, she was jailed for five years and six months.
Sarah is thankful the prosecution of the three has come to an end. She says the court process has been daunting and she was filled with anxiety before every hearing.
She attended almost every appearance of her husband’s killers, enduring countless hours of graphic details explaining how and why he was murdered.
Sarah is frank when she acknowledges her husband’s vices.
He struggled with drugs and he was “shocking” with money, she says.
Ramsay had a rough upbringing and his substance abuse problems were well-established before they met in 2007 at Beach Hop in Whangamatā.
While his drug use became a burden on their relationship, she says he was still a dedicated family man who tried his best not to let the two worlds collide.
“He wanted to do right by his family. He just had demons he was battling.”
Ramsay sought counselling and was clean for about eight months.
Only weeks before his death, he moved into the farmhouse on Upper Kina Rd, Ōaonui. The plan was for Sarah and the boys to remain in Stratford until the end of the year, when they would then join him at the farm.
She thinks he started using again just before he died.
“I had an inkling that he possibly was. He tries to hide it but I became pretty good at figuring it out.”
For all his flaws, Ramsay, who could usually be found tinkering with cars, gardening or drawing, had many redeeming qualities, Sarah says.
He was a hard worker, caring, a joker and had a heart of gold.
“If you needed $20 and he only had $20 left, he would give it to you.”
She received a phone call from police, who told her they had found a body they believed was his and they were treating it as a homicide.
Sarah was asked about his tattoos in an effort to identify him over the phone. Eventually, Ramsay’s best friend was called on to identify him in person.
What took place next was the hardest conversation Sarah had ever had. She had to tell her children.
“I was in tears and I just kind of blurted it out to Lucus. With Hunter, I was a bit more careful with how I worded it.”
They were devastated.
The boys know Ramsay was murdered but Sarah has spared them the horrific details.
In their lounge on a warm afternoon this week, Hunter is busy looking through an album showcasing photos of him with his dad. He stops to say he is feeling “angry and sad”.
His special name for Ramsay is “dalla”, which came from his struggle as a toddler to say “dadda”.
He enjoys talking about his dad and, while doing so, he alternates between tears and laughter.
Lucus has unwittingly assumed the role of “man of the house”, Sarah says.
In between chasing Olliver and getting the washing off the line, he speaks about the “strange” year his family has had and how he wished he could tell Ramsay to “come home”.
“It gets to me a lot that Jake isn’t around to see the kids reach their milestones and progress in their sports.
“He would be so proud of them.”
Knowing Olliver will never meet his father plays on her mind every day.
“He’s never going to have Jake’s voice directed at him. He’s missed everything.”
Sarah has had to come up with creative ways to keep his memory alive.
Their walls are adorned with photos of him, including a huge canvas of Sarah holding Olliver with a superimposed image of her husband next to them, giving the impression the three took the photo together.
“But I’ll never forget his laugh.” She says Ramsay laughed like Peter Griffin from the animated sitcom Family Guy.
The slideshow is filled with memories he made with Sarah and the boys. There are fishing trips, playground visits, rides around the farm, camping experiences and water adventures.
A video exchange between Hunter and his dad shows them telling each other “I love you” while poking their tongues out and making silly faces.
It cuts to Sarah and Ramsay’s first dance at their wedding in 2021. A year of dance training saw them pull off a rumba to Eric Clapton’s Wonderful Tonight in front of a roomful of guests.
“It was the one time that we did it that we didn’t forget anything or muck it up. Jake worked well under pressure,” she laughs.
Now, as Sarah navigates life as a solo parent, she’s not sure what the future holds for her and the boys.
Life is harder financially and she is hoping to secure a rent-to-own home through Habitat for Humanity.
All of the plans she made with Ramsay died with him.
They were meant to grow old together, she says.
“He always joked that we’d sit on the porch together and he’d be the grumpy old man and I’d be the nana in the rocking chair next to him.
“But it’s just one day at a time now.”
Tara Shaskey joined NZME in 2022 as a news director and Open Justice reporter. She has been a reporter since 2014 and previously worked at Stuff, where she covered crime and justice, arts and entertainment, and Māori issues.