THE DAY THE MUSIC WENT OUT OF MY HEAD FOREVER
The day the music went out of my life forever
This weekend the world remembers the carnage at Omagh. Here MARTIN BREEN hears how the husband of one victim is still struggling to come to terms with the Bomb.
EVER since Ann McCombe was killed on August 15 her husband Stanley has known that his life will never be the same again.
Before his wife's death Mr McCombe's passion was his music out now he has refused to play his bagpipes again.
Despite having won awards for his musical talents, he will never forget that the last time he played the pipes his wife was lying dead on the streets of Omagh.
The 51-year-old and his son Clive were with Mountfield Pipe Band competing in the World Pipe Band Championships in Glasgow on the day the Real IRA brought mass murder to Co Tyrone.
Ann worked at Watterson's drapery store which was devastated by the explosion and where her colleagues Veda Short and Geraldine Breslin also lost their lives.
"For 20 years I played, but that day was the last day I played the bagpipes. I will never play again because or what it reminds me of," said Stanley.
"That weekend should have been the highlight of our year for band competitions. It's a day I will never forget for the wrong reasons."
When he heard about the bomb, he was told that his sister Rosemary Ingram, a traffic warden in the Tyrone town, had been killed in the explosion. It wasn't until several hours later he found out this wasn't true and that his wife had actually been one of the 29 victims.
"I thought when I first heard about the bomb that Ann would have been the furthest away. When I heard she was missing I knew something was wrong," he said.
"I went hysterical when I found out at 11 o'clock that night, in our hotel, that Ann was dead. I just wanted to get home but couldn't until nine o'clock the next morning. The journey home was the longest and the worst in my life."
When he got home the full scale of the devastation hit him as he realised that not only had he lost his wife but four neighbours also.
Lorraine Wilson, Samantha McFarland, Fred White and Brian White all. lived just doors away from his Summerhill Park home.
"It was the worst experience in my life to identify Ann. That memory will live with me forever. The last time I had seen her was on the Thursday evening when I went to Scotland. She had told me to come back safe but I was never to see her again."
Despairingly, he says he no longer has any purpose in life and finds his only comfort in their two sons, Clive (23) and nineteen-year-old Colin.
Stanley said: "There's no meaning to life for me anymore. I'm just living out the rest of my life to the best of my ability and don't fear death at all.
"Every day is hard and I can't even go to our church, Mountjoy Presbyterian, as Ann had always been in the choir. I have got ready to go but can't face it without her."
Despite his own inconsolable grief, he has one wish for Omagh's future: that the area of Market Street where the bomb exploded becomes pedestrianised.
"People shouldn't be allowed to drive through it. That's like driving over graves," he said.
This weekend the world remembers the carnage at Omagh. Here MARTIN BREEN hears how the husband of one victim is still struggling to come to terms with the Bomb.
EVER since Ann McCombe was killed on August 15 her husband Stanley has known that his life will never be the same again.
Before his wife's death Mr McCombe's passion was his music out now he has refused to play his bagpipes again.
Despite having won awards for his musical talents, he will never forget that the last time he played the pipes his wife was lying dead on the streets of Omagh.
The 51-year-old and his son Clive were with Mountfield Pipe Band competing in the World Pipe Band Championships in Glasgow on the day the Real IRA brought mass murder to Co Tyrone.
Ann worked at Watterson's drapery store which was devastated by the explosion and where her colleagues Veda Short and Geraldine Breslin also lost their lives.
"For 20 years I played, but that day was the last day I played the bagpipes. I will never play again because or what it reminds me of," said Stanley.
"That weekend should have been the highlight of our year for band competitions. It's a day I will never forget for the wrong reasons."
When he heard about the bomb, he was told that his sister Rosemary Ingram, a traffic warden in the Tyrone town, had been killed in the explosion. It wasn't until several hours later he found out this wasn't true and that his wife had actually been one of the 29 victims.
"I thought when I first heard about the bomb that Ann would have been the furthest away. When I heard she was missing I knew something was wrong," he said.
"I went hysterical when I found out at 11 o'clock that night, in our hotel, that Ann was dead. I just wanted to get home but couldn't until nine o'clock the next morning. The journey home was the longest and the worst in my life."
When he got home the full scale of the devastation hit him as he realised that not only had he lost his wife but four neighbours also.
Lorraine Wilson, Samantha McFarland, Fred White and Brian White all. lived just doors away from his Summerhill Park home.
"It was the worst experience in my life to identify Ann. That memory will live with me forever. The last time I had seen her was on the Thursday evening when I went to Scotland. She had told me to come back safe but I was never to see her again."
Despairingly, he says he no longer has any purpose in life and finds his only comfort in their two sons, Clive (23) and nineteen-year-old Colin.
Stanley said: "There's no meaning to life for me anymore. I'm just living out the rest of my life to the best of my ability and don't fear death at all.
"Every day is hard and I can't even go to our church, Mountjoy Presbyterian, as Ann had always been in the choir. I have got ready to go but can't face it without her."
Despite his own inconsolable grief, he has one wish for Omagh's future: that the area of Market Street where the bomb exploded becomes pedestrianised.
"People shouldn't be allowed to drive through it. That's like driving over graves," he said.
Further Information
Publisher: BELFAST TELEGRAPH
Ref: BT/0596
Published Date: 14-Aug-99
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