PLACE WAS COVERED IN BLOOD
The whole place was covered with blood'
By Rosie Cowan
"My wife was lying like a rag doll, face down, the clothes blown off her back. I knew she was dead but I felt for her pulse anyway. There was none.
"My next thought was the three children. I just went wild, scrabbling through the rubble. The police dragged me out of the shop, but I fought them off and went back, again and again. It was an hour and a half until I found my youngsters.
"The whole place was covered with blood. There was a burst water mains and there were bits of human remains being washed down the street. I'll never, never forget it as long as I live.
"We've had Enniskillen, Bloody Sunday, and this was Bloody Saturday, the worst of the lot."
Drumquin woman, Philomena Skelton (39), went to Omagh town centre just two Saturdays a year - one to do her Christmas shopping, the other to buy uniforms for the kids going back to school.
Last Saturday, she was accompanied by husband Kevin and daughters Shauna (13), Tracey (15), Paula (18), and her boyfriend Petey.
Son Ray (16) was on a fishing trip.
The quest was an ordinary pair of brown school shoes for Shauna.
"I actually walked past the car with the bomb in it," explains Kevin. "I went into Mr G's and the others went into Kells' right next door.
"I'd got less than halfway down the shop when I turned to see the front of the shop coming to meet me. As the glass shattered I just burst through the door and threw myself into Kells'.
"Outside on the street, I saw the Kosy Korner and Slevins just disintegrate into rubble. I knew Philomena was dead as soon as I saw her.
"I just can't accept that she is dead and I've walked away with just this cut on my head.''
Kevin's two older daughters, Paula and Tracey, survived unscathed, but Shauna underwent six hours surgery at Altnagelvin hospital yesterday to insert a steel plate in her jaw.
The Skeltons are a large, close family, and like the other bereaved, their home has seen a constant stream of visitors, bringing the usual everyday things that people bring to such houses -sandwiches, butter, milk for endless cups of tea.
Everywhere, outside and in, people are perched as Kevin recounts his story. At the gate, a gaggle of teenage girls fuss over and comfort his daughters. Paula and Tracey come over frequently to hug their father and bury their heads in his shoulder as he talks.
"We would have been 20 years married on August 31. She gave me 20 years of happiness, and four good kids.
"If this is the last of it, and no more families have to go through this, she'll have died for something, won't she?" he appeals, wanting more than anything for this to be the case.
"But if the scum that is ruling this country with this bombing is allowed to do it again, then there is no hope for anyone in Northern Ireland.
"Mena was such a homebird. She hardly ever went out. We did everything together, like the grocery shopping every Thursday evening.
"She loved knitting..." he tails off, his eyes drifting towards his wife's work basket. "It's the little things which hurt, and will forever.
"I owe it her to look after these children, and we have great family support. But I don't know what I'm going to do without her, I just don't."
By Rosie Cowan
"My wife was lying like a rag doll, face down, the clothes blown off her back. I knew she was dead but I felt for her pulse anyway. There was none.
"My next thought was the three children. I just went wild, scrabbling through the rubble. The police dragged me out of the shop, but I fought them off and went back, again and again. It was an hour and a half until I found my youngsters.
"The whole place was covered with blood. There was a burst water mains and there were bits of human remains being washed down the street. I'll never, never forget it as long as I live.
"We've had Enniskillen, Bloody Sunday, and this was Bloody Saturday, the worst of the lot."
Drumquin woman, Philomena Skelton (39), went to Omagh town centre just two Saturdays a year - one to do her Christmas shopping, the other to buy uniforms for the kids going back to school.
Last Saturday, she was accompanied by husband Kevin and daughters Shauna (13), Tracey (15), Paula (18), and her boyfriend Petey.
Son Ray (16) was on a fishing trip.
The quest was an ordinary pair of brown school shoes for Shauna.
"I actually walked past the car with the bomb in it," explains Kevin. "I went into Mr G's and the others went into Kells' right next door.
"I'd got less than halfway down the shop when I turned to see the front of the shop coming to meet me. As the glass shattered I just burst through the door and threw myself into Kells'.
"Outside on the street, I saw the Kosy Korner and Slevins just disintegrate into rubble. I knew Philomena was dead as soon as I saw her.
"I just can't accept that she is dead and I've walked away with just this cut on my head.''
Kevin's two older daughters, Paula and Tracey, survived unscathed, but Shauna underwent six hours surgery at Altnagelvin hospital yesterday to insert a steel plate in her jaw.
The Skeltons are a large, close family, and like the other bereaved, their home has seen a constant stream of visitors, bringing the usual everyday things that people bring to such houses -sandwiches, butter, milk for endless cups of tea.
Everywhere, outside and in, people are perched as Kevin recounts his story. At the gate, a gaggle of teenage girls fuss over and comfort his daughters. Paula and Tracey come over frequently to hug their father and bury their heads in his shoulder as he talks.
"We would have been 20 years married on August 31. She gave me 20 years of happiness, and four good kids.
"If this is the last of it, and no more families have to go through this, she'll have died for something, won't she?" he appeals, wanting more than anything for this to be the case.
"But if the scum that is ruling this country with this bombing is allowed to do it again, then there is no hope for anyone in Northern Ireland.
"Mena was such a homebird. She hardly ever went out. We did everything together, like the grocery shopping every Thursday evening.
"She loved knitting..." he tails off, his eyes drifting towards his wife's work basket. "It's the little things which hurt, and will forever.
"I owe it her to look after these children, and we have great family support. But I don't know what I'm going to do without her, I just don't."
Further Information
Publisher: BELFAST TELEGRAPH
Ref: BT/0024
Published Date: 17-Aug-98
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