PEOPLE NEED PRIVACY TO GRIEVE
People need privacy to grieve'
By Lindy McDowell
WHEN Malachy Keyes, father of a badly injured victim of the Omagh bombing appeared at a press conference in Belfast on Monday, he talked movingly about the ordeal his family were enduring.
He explained why he still backed the Good Friday Agreement and paid tribute to hospital staff.
All these are areas which journalists, who have covered similar press conferences before, would have expected him to touch on.
But then Mr Keyes went further. He had a few words for the media themselves.
"We have tried to keep the suffering that we have been going through private, but unfortunately some of you people behind those cameras are not letting us do that.
"We suffer with all the other families from Omagh and every one of our families is suffering with the great pain of our loss and tragedy. For God's sake please stop harassing our families."
On the same day local councillor Oliver Gibson, who lost a niece in the bombing, made a similar appeal for time and space. Omagh was a rural community, he pointed out. People there had their own way of grieving. They needed privacy to do so.
Neither appeal has been lost on |ournalists , who live and work in Northern Ireland.
All of us here take tremendous pride in the work we do. It is our to bring readers and viewers the facts, to provide comprehensive coverage, to get the story.
But, at the same time, we don't just report on this community. We are part of it. The people who died in Omagh aren't just a story to us. They are our people - in some cases our relatives and friends.
We are deeply sensitive to their pain and hurt. We do not wish to add to it.
That's why this paper yesterday made it clear that our staff will refrain from making further direct approaches to close relatives of those killed in the bombing.
In the words of editor Edmund Curran: "Like everyone else in Northern Ireland we are deeply moved and distressed by what has happened and., while it is essential to reflect and record the terrible suffering, we accept that the people of Omagh need time and space to grieve."
But he points out: "Our coverage will continue to give full expression to those relatives, bereaved and others who wish to speak with our staff and we hope to provide extensive and sensitive coverage of the victims' funerals."
The bombing at Omagh is not just a local news story. It has made headlines throughout the world. And over the last few days the international media pack has arrived in force.
By Sunday afternoon a car park near the seat of the explosion in Omagh's town centre had been transformed into Satellite City, as television vans equipped with satellite dishes established camp.
The bridge which marked the boundary of the area sealed off by security forces was wall to wall with camera crews, radio reporters. Press people and photographers.
There were more journalists there than bystanders. There were crews from Russia. Spain, France, Denmark, you name it. As we left the scene one of my colleagues was approached by a Japanese television reporter asking for an interview.
On the periphery of this circus there was a bizarre incident where the actor who plays car dealer Barry in EastEnders posed for photographs with the bomb site in the background, when he was asked what he was there for, he mumbled apologetically that he was doing a thing with "these people who are with me" and that he couldn't talk to us. "I'm terribly sorry," he added.
The little English photographer who was with him wasn't quite so courteous. "He's not saying anything to anyone," he snapped, whisking 'Barry' into a car as though he were an enviable exclusive.
By Monday the media presence in the town had increased further still.
Everywhere you looked in Omagh there was a photographer or a televison crew. In itself this sort of presence is not necessarily a problem for local people.
Many people welcome the opportunity to put their views to a wider audience. And there were no obvious signs of harassment.
But for families of the dead and the injured, as many of us are all too keenly aware, the suffering of this week has been compounded by requests from media from all over the world for interviews.
Again some people have wanted to talk. But others in this rural community have not.
We are not talking here about celebrities or politicians being called into account for their behaviour.
We are talking about ordinary people who have been plunged into a nightmare.
A similar situation arose in Dunblane when, after the killings there, the international media pack again descended on a small, suffering community. And again, while the local media showed sensitivity to the families, visiting reporters and camera crews were accused of harassing the bereaved.
And it's not the first time it's happened in Northern Ireland either.
After the funeral of the Quinn brothers in Ballymoney, my colleague Bobby Ingram returned to the office enraged by scenes he had witnessed.
Again the international pack were to the fore, this time literally elbowing mourners aside as they fought to get close-up photographs.
At one point a veteran English cameraman with the PA agency intervened, grabbing a French photographer by the scruff of the neck and telling him to get back and show respect for people.
And respect is what it's all about. Those of us who work here respect the dignity of the families of the dead and the injured. We don't just understand their grief. We share it.
By Lindy McDowell
WHEN Malachy Keyes, father of a badly injured victim of the Omagh bombing appeared at a press conference in Belfast on Monday, he talked movingly about the ordeal his family were enduring.
He explained why he still backed the Good Friday Agreement and paid tribute to hospital staff.
All these are areas which journalists, who have covered similar press conferences before, would have expected him to touch on.
But then Mr Keyes went further. He had a few words for the media themselves.
"We have tried to keep the suffering that we have been going through private, but unfortunately some of you people behind those cameras are not letting us do that.
"We suffer with all the other families from Omagh and every one of our families is suffering with the great pain of our loss and tragedy. For God's sake please stop harassing our families."
On the same day local councillor Oliver Gibson, who lost a niece in the bombing, made a similar appeal for time and space. Omagh was a rural community, he pointed out. People there had their own way of grieving. They needed privacy to do so.
Neither appeal has been lost on |ournalists , who live and work in Northern Ireland.
All of us here take tremendous pride in the work we do. It is our to bring readers and viewers the facts, to provide comprehensive coverage, to get the story.
But, at the same time, we don't just report on this community. We are part of it. The people who died in Omagh aren't just a story to us. They are our people - in some cases our relatives and friends.
We are deeply sensitive to their pain and hurt. We do not wish to add to it.
That's why this paper yesterday made it clear that our staff will refrain from making further direct approaches to close relatives of those killed in the bombing.
In the words of editor Edmund Curran: "Like everyone else in Northern Ireland we are deeply moved and distressed by what has happened and., while it is essential to reflect and record the terrible suffering, we accept that the people of Omagh need time and space to grieve."
But he points out: "Our coverage will continue to give full expression to those relatives, bereaved and others who wish to speak with our staff and we hope to provide extensive and sensitive coverage of the victims' funerals."
The bombing at Omagh is not just a local news story. It has made headlines throughout the world. And over the last few days the international media pack has arrived in force.
By Sunday afternoon a car park near the seat of the explosion in Omagh's town centre had been transformed into Satellite City, as television vans equipped with satellite dishes established camp.
The bridge which marked the boundary of the area sealed off by security forces was wall to wall with camera crews, radio reporters. Press people and photographers.
There were more journalists there than bystanders. There were crews from Russia. Spain, France, Denmark, you name it. As we left the scene one of my colleagues was approached by a Japanese television reporter asking for an interview.
On the periphery of this circus there was a bizarre incident where the actor who plays car dealer Barry in EastEnders posed for photographs with the bomb site in the background, when he was asked what he was there for, he mumbled apologetically that he was doing a thing with "these people who are with me" and that he couldn't talk to us. "I'm terribly sorry," he added.
The little English photographer who was with him wasn't quite so courteous. "He's not saying anything to anyone," he snapped, whisking 'Barry' into a car as though he were an enviable exclusive.
By Monday the media presence in the town had increased further still.
Everywhere you looked in Omagh there was a photographer or a televison crew. In itself this sort of presence is not necessarily a problem for local people.
Many people welcome the opportunity to put their views to a wider audience. And there were no obvious signs of harassment.
But for families of the dead and the injured, as many of us are all too keenly aware, the suffering of this week has been compounded by requests from media from all over the world for interviews.
Again some people have wanted to talk. But others in this rural community have not.
We are not talking here about celebrities or politicians being called into account for their behaviour.
We are talking about ordinary people who have been plunged into a nightmare.
A similar situation arose in Dunblane when, after the killings there, the international media pack again descended on a small, suffering community. And again, while the local media showed sensitivity to the families, visiting reporters and camera crews were accused of harassing the bereaved.
And it's not the first time it's happened in Northern Ireland either.
After the funeral of the Quinn brothers in Ballymoney, my colleague Bobby Ingram returned to the office enraged by scenes he had witnessed.
Again the international pack were to the fore, this time literally elbowing mourners aside as they fought to get close-up photographs.
At one point a veteran English cameraman with the PA agency intervened, grabbing a French photographer by the scruff of the neck and telling him to get back and show respect for people.
And respect is what it's all about. Those of us who work here respect the dignity of the families of the dead and the injured. We don't just understand their grief. We share it.
Further Information
Publisher: BELFAST TELEGRAPH
Ref: BT/0077
Published Date: 19-Aug-98
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