LIVING WITH A VOID AND NO FAITH IN JUSTICE
Living with a void... and no faith in justice
The fourth anniversary of the Omagh bomb occurs on Thursday. In the second of a two-part feature on the atrocity Sharon O'Neill talks to survivors and relatives of the dead on their pain and their despair that no-one has been brought to justice for the bombing
MARION RADFORD feels bitter and rightly so. Cruelly robbed of a son she cherished the mother-of-six has also been robbed of justice. Her 16-year-old son Alan had a bright future ahead of him. Awaiting his GCSE results, the teenager was hoping to pursue a career in catering. And like every mother Marion Radford wanted the best start for her son - the second youngest in the family.
So on the afternoon of August 15 1998 the pair ventured into Omagh like they did every Saturday, but only one returned home, leaving a family shattered who, four years on, are still struggling to come to terms with their loss.
Like most mothers Marion, a divorcee, had a special relationship with her son and had planned to help him fulfil his dream by opening his first bank account.
"We were supposed to go in early but he went to see a girl he babysitted for, a thing he never did on a Saturday. Sometimes I think he was saying goodbye to her. Then he came back and we went into town," Marion recalls.
"We heard there was a bomb scare but nobody seemed to be moving anywhere. We went into the electric shop because I had to pay my electric bill and we came out and I said 'Alan, maybe we better go'.
"I went up to the bank to get money out from the whole in the wall but they wouldn't let us through and they moved us down. We didn't know what was going on further up. We were heading off out of the town because I wasn't going to take any chances."
At that time the area around the court house was being evacuated and people were being moved down Market Street where, unknown to them and the police, the car bomb had been abandoned - in the heart of Omagh town centre. Thinking where they were was safe Marion nipped into the Salad Bowl shop before heading home and thought Alan was in an electrical store across the road.
Little did she know that the 500lb bomb lay in a car outside the shop beside the Salad Bowl - where Alan returned to wait on his mother.
"He wouldn't have left me. He was probably waiting on me coming out and I feel guilty now for that. I had every right to be downtown, like we did every Saturday. We had that right and they took his life. They are the ones who are guilty. I am not going to take any of their guilt. "When I was in there (in shop) I got an uneasy feeling and I thought 'I'm getting Alan and getting out of here'. I just thought 'I think there is a bomb here' and the bomb went off. "There was a bang. There were no screams in the beginning, everybody must have been in shock. There was just an eerie silence. Then I was aware there was something sticking into the back of my head - it was glass. I pulled it out, I didn't feel any pain, I was that numb.
"I couldn't scream, I couldn't cry. But then I remembered about Alan. I thought 'where's Alan'. I thought, maybe he is alright if he is up at the electric shop. I kept hoping that. "I came out of the Salad Bowl and I was aware there were people lying on the ground. I was in that much in shock. I wondered around the bomb scene and I asked someone that I knew had he seen Alan. "I was really scared what I was going to find. Then I thought 'I'll get Alan, go to the bank and get money out of the hole of the wall for Alan to open an account'. "I was acting kind of normal then. I was denying it, saying this isn't real. Then a man came over and asked me for my coat. He put the coat over someone and then I thought 'this is real'. "A girl came over and pulled me from behind, took off her cardigan and wrapped it round my head. The blood was pouring out of me. I had a white T-Shirt on but it was red with the blood.
"She was lining people up, getting ready for when the ambulances came.
"I went to the hospital but kept thinking about Alan. The fear in me was terrible. There were people in the ambulance that were crying, screaming. There were people really seriously injured.
"When I got to the hospital there was chaos, absolute chaos. I have never seen anything like it in my life. "My son Paul came to the hospital. I asked him to find Alan; he says, 'mum, they (hospital staff) have asked me to help here, they need help, I need to help. Mum, there are people dying but as soon as I can I will go into town'." From the moment the bomb went off time stopped for Marion and as the evening wore on she knew that her son was one of those whose life was tragically cut short. The next morning her son Paul broke the news that she was dreading.
"I shouted 'no, no, are you sure its Alan? He says, 'mum, it's Alan, we have seen him and he is dead'. I just started screaming. I just went into a terrible state. I just thought this can't be true. "I love all my children, they are all special in different ways, but Alan was the one I went everywhere with, being divorced.
"He did everything for other people and helped neighbours. He was so good. Any problems I had he would say, 'mum everything will be alright'. I can still hear him say that. I was very close to him.
"I just feel they (Real IRA killers) have robbed me of years and years of happiness with him. "I feel it is ridiculous that no-one has been brought to justice for this.
"In fact all the trouble in this country, all the years people have been crying out for justice, these people (killers) continue to run around the streets. I can't understand it. They take lives and ruin the lives of the families."
Four years on Marion relies on medication to get through her day and prefers her own company as she continues to struggle to overcome her grief. "You learn to live with it, deal with it, but life will never be the same.
"You get up and be positive and go on living because that is what human beings do, but there is a void in your life.
"I have other family living away now that wouldn't be living away. I have a daughter who has only one kidney with health problems living in the Isle of Man. It is a very expensive place to live, out working, struggling.
"It has been very difficult. Everyone of them just loved him. His nieces are just devastated.
"I push myself. That keeps me from thinking. I am on medication because of what happened. I tried to do without it but I couldn't. I was severely depressed. I nearly landed up in the hospital recently with depression but I was able to fight my way through it.
"I switch off because it is the only way I can cope. If I sit down and think about things I think about the bomb.
"I have been accused of pushing people away from me. I am not doing that, I don't push people away from me. It is your way of coping, I think. People can't cope with my grief and I think they are pushing me away.
"I feel people can't cope with it. They think you are going to talk about it all the time; little do they know you don't want to go on about it all the time. I prefer my own company now. It is a road you go alone."
A Mormon, Marion has backed the civil action against those suspected of the Real IRA bombing but is sorely disappointed that no-one has been prosecuted for the murder of 29 people including a woman pregnant with twins.
"We should try all we can to get some kind of justice. I would like it done in a criminal court. These people should be made accountable for what they did, whether they are sorry or not. The law of the land should be doing its part.
"I certainly don't feel let down with the policemen on the ground that day or the help we have had from them. There has been mistakes made, I hope they learn from it and it doesn't happen again.
"I have got faith in God. If they escape judgment here they are not going to escape it and I will see that when we pass on beyond this life.
"I am involved in the civil action to get whatever justice I can, but if they are never brought to justice they will not control my life."
Marion, who works part-time as a supervisor for a cleaning company, draws strength from her family as she tries to rebuild her life.
"I am the mother of the home and I have to be strong for my children. You see them suffering too. It is hard for a mother when she is going through her own grief to see your children and grandchildren grieving too; it is very, very painful. It is unimaginable pain.
"I have got five granddaughters and a wee grandson, he is just a year-and-a-half. He is a delight, I love all my grandchildren. They show me great love as do my children.
"I believe Alan is somewhere beautiful, away from the sorrows of this life. I believe in life after death.
"I have got to bide my time here but one day I will see him again. It is a day I really look forward to, but I have to try and live my life here and enjoy life again.
"I hope one day I can enjoy living again."
The fourth anniversary of the Omagh bomb occurs on Thursday. In the second of a two-part feature on the atrocity Sharon O'Neill talks to survivors and relatives of the dead on their pain and their despair that no-one has been brought to justice for the bombing
MARION RADFORD feels bitter and rightly so. Cruelly robbed of a son she cherished the mother-of-six has also been robbed of justice. Her 16-year-old son Alan had a bright future ahead of him. Awaiting his GCSE results, the teenager was hoping to pursue a career in catering. And like every mother Marion Radford wanted the best start for her son - the second youngest in the family.
So on the afternoon of August 15 1998 the pair ventured into Omagh like they did every Saturday, but only one returned home, leaving a family shattered who, four years on, are still struggling to come to terms with their loss.
Like most mothers Marion, a divorcee, had a special relationship with her son and had planned to help him fulfil his dream by opening his first bank account.
"We were supposed to go in early but he went to see a girl he babysitted for, a thing he never did on a Saturday. Sometimes I think he was saying goodbye to her. Then he came back and we went into town," Marion recalls.
"We heard there was a bomb scare but nobody seemed to be moving anywhere. We went into the electric shop because I had to pay my electric bill and we came out and I said 'Alan, maybe we better go'.
"I went up to the bank to get money out from the whole in the wall but they wouldn't let us through and they moved us down. We didn't know what was going on further up. We were heading off out of the town because I wasn't going to take any chances."
At that time the area around the court house was being evacuated and people were being moved down Market Street where, unknown to them and the police, the car bomb had been abandoned - in the heart of Omagh town centre. Thinking where they were was safe Marion nipped into the Salad Bowl shop before heading home and thought Alan was in an electrical store across the road.
Little did she know that the 500lb bomb lay in a car outside the shop beside the Salad Bowl - where Alan returned to wait on his mother.
"He wouldn't have left me. He was probably waiting on me coming out and I feel guilty now for that. I had every right to be downtown, like we did every Saturday. We had that right and they took his life. They are the ones who are guilty. I am not going to take any of their guilt. "When I was in there (in shop) I got an uneasy feeling and I thought 'I'm getting Alan and getting out of here'. I just thought 'I think there is a bomb here' and the bomb went off. "There was a bang. There were no screams in the beginning, everybody must have been in shock. There was just an eerie silence. Then I was aware there was something sticking into the back of my head - it was glass. I pulled it out, I didn't feel any pain, I was that numb.
"I couldn't scream, I couldn't cry. But then I remembered about Alan. I thought 'where's Alan'. I thought, maybe he is alright if he is up at the electric shop. I kept hoping that. "I came out of the Salad Bowl and I was aware there were people lying on the ground. I was in that much in shock. I wondered around the bomb scene and I asked someone that I knew had he seen Alan. "I was really scared what I was going to find. Then I thought 'I'll get Alan, go to the bank and get money out of the hole of the wall for Alan to open an account'. "I was acting kind of normal then. I was denying it, saying this isn't real. Then a man came over and asked me for my coat. He put the coat over someone and then I thought 'this is real'. "A girl came over and pulled me from behind, took off her cardigan and wrapped it round my head. The blood was pouring out of me. I had a white T-Shirt on but it was red with the blood.
"She was lining people up, getting ready for when the ambulances came.
"I went to the hospital but kept thinking about Alan. The fear in me was terrible. There were people in the ambulance that were crying, screaming. There were people really seriously injured.
"When I got to the hospital there was chaos, absolute chaos. I have never seen anything like it in my life. "My son Paul came to the hospital. I asked him to find Alan; he says, 'mum, they (hospital staff) have asked me to help here, they need help, I need to help. Mum, there are people dying but as soon as I can I will go into town'." From the moment the bomb went off time stopped for Marion and as the evening wore on she knew that her son was one of those whose life was tragically cut short. The next morning her son Paul broke the news that she was dreading.
"I shouted 'no, no, are you sure its Alan? He says, 'mum, it's Alan, we have seen him and he is dead'. I just started screaming. I just went into a terrible state. I just thought this can't be true. "I love all my children, they are all special in different ways, but Alan was the one I went everywhere with, being divorced.
"He did everything for other people and helped neighbours. He was so good. Any problems I had he would say, 'mum everything will be alright'. I can still hear him say that. I was very close to him.
"I just feel they (Real IRA killers) have robbed me of years and years of happiness with him. "I feel it is ridiculous that no-one has been brought to justice for this.
"In fact all the trouble in this country, all the years people have been crying out for justice, these people (killers) continue to run around the streets. I can't understand it. They take lives and ruin the lives of the families."
Four years on Marion relies on medication to get through her day and prefers her own company as she continues to struggle to overcome her grief. "You learn to live with it, deal with it, but life will never be the same.
"You get up and be positive and go on living because that is what human beings do, but there is a void in your life.
"I have other family living away now that wouldn't be living away. I have a daughter who has only one kidney with health problems living in the Isle of Man. It is a very expensive place to live, out working, struggling.
"It has been very difficult. Everyone of them just loved him. His nieces are just devastated.
"I push myself. That keeps me from thinking. I am on medication because of what happened. I tried to do without it but I couldn't. I was severely depressed. I nearly landed up in the hospital recently with depression but I was able to fight my way through it.
"I switch off because it is the only way I can cope. If I sit down and think about things I think about the bomb.
"I have been accused of pushing people away from me. I am not doing that, I don't push people away from me. It is your way of coping, I think. People can't cope with my grief and I think they are pushing me away.
"I feel people can't cope with it. They think you are going to talk about it all the time; little do they know you don't want to go on about it all the time. I prefer my own company now. It is a road you go alone."
A Mormon, Marion has backed the civil action against those suspected of the Real IRA bombing but is sorely disappointed that no-one has been prosecuted for the murder of 29 people including a woman pregnant with twins.
"We should try all we can to get some kind of justice. I would like it done in a criminal court. These people should be made accountable for what they did, whether they are sorry or not. The law of the land should be doing its part.
"I certainly don't feel let down with the policemen on the ground that day or the help we have had from them. There has been mistakes made, I hope they learn from it and it doesn't happen again.
"I have got faith in God. If they escape judgment here they are not going to escape it and I will see that when we pass on beyond this life.
"I am involved in the civil action to get whatever justice I can, but if they are never brought to justice they will not control my life."
Marion, who works part-time as a supervisor for a cleaning company, draws strength from her family as she tries to rebuild her life.
"I am the mother of the home and I have to be strong for my children. You see them suffering too. It is hard for a mother when she is going through her own grief to see your children and grandchildren grieving too; it is very, very painful. It is unimaginable pain.
"I have got five granddaughters and a wee grandson, he is just a year-and-a-half. He is a delight, I love all my grandchildren. They show me great love as do my children.
"I believe Alan is somewhere beautiful, away from the sorrows of this life. I believe in life after death.
"I have got to bide my time here but one day I will see him again. It is a day I really look forward to, but I have to try and live my life here and enjoy life again.
"I hope one day I can enjoy living again."
Further Information
Publisher: THE IRISH NEWS
Ref: IN/0572
Published Date: 13-Aug-02
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