THOUGHT FOR THE DAY
Thought for the day
17-08-98 - Radio 4
Kevin Mullan
Good morning, I live now in a town of ghosts. Each of us here in Omagh has been revisiting in our minds the still-cordoned -off section of Market Street at the lower end of town. The people in the dress shop, best dressed or about to be so - half naked, limbless, lifeless. Those in the paper shop, now to be read of themselves in the newspapers of the world. The once-happy Saturday afternoon shoppers, betrayed by a lie as to the location of death, and herded towards and not away from destruction.
Ghosts that are going to wander always around this corner of the street as surely as Molly Malone's ghost wheels her barrow through Dublin. The daughter, mother and granddaughter - the foreign children who stepped singing off their bus - the son and father returned that morning from holiday -the 28, at least, who will neither see nor be seen here anymore.
We were schooled together, worked side-by-side, played together, and heard the one Lord call us in a variety of bells to worship Him on Sundays, or at least by a good good conscience. We voted together for a new beginning, to listen to one another's hearts, and share this place as one. Our ghosts are happy ghosts, the ghosts of friends, and we will not betray them.
Beside the site devastated by Saturday's hellfire blast, the two rivers that wash and soothe our town flow into each other and travel on together to the distant sea. They have always been a symbol of who we are here - two but one, Catholic, Protestant, unionist, nationalist, we need each other to make each other, we accept each other's differences and together.
We will not change. Though so many dear hearts have ceased to beat, their blood has flown together at the bottom of our street. We who must bury them now will walk together to their too-early graves and together into the future. We will not betray their poor ghosts.
Our friendship has not pleased everyone. Somewhere some people planned these deaths, to destroy the hopes of all who live in these islands for more peaceful days. Their old ways will not accept the new. They will have no share in our sharing. They speak with blasts of hate.
When we have returned from our burials, I would love to sit them down quietly with our poor, once-happy ghosts, to lead them to see that they can have all the happiness they want in our togetherness. But I can give them nothing that would come only from the denial of another's right to be and be his or her own self.
I cannot betray our poor dear suffering ghosts.
17-08-98 - Radio 4
Kevin Mullan
Good morning, I live now in a town of ghosts. Each of us here in Omagh has been revisiting in our minds the still-cordoned -off section of Market Street at the lower end of town. The people in the dress shop, best dressed or about to be so - half naked, limbless, lifeless. Those in the paper shop, now to be read of themselves in the newspapers of the world. The once-happy Saturday afternoon shoppers, betrayed by a lie as to the location of death, and herded towards and not away from destruction.
Ghosts that are going to wander always around this corner of the street as surely as Molly Malone's ghost wheels her barrow through Dublin. The daughter, mother and granddaughter - the foreign children who stepped singing off their bus - the son and father returned that morning from holiday -the 28, at least, who will neither see nor be seen here anymore.
We were schooled together, worked side-by-side, played together, and heard the one Lord call us in a variety of bells to worship Him on Sundays, or at least by a good good conscience. We voted together for a new beginning, to listen to one another's hearts, and share this place as one. Our ghosts are happy ghosts, the ghosts of friends, and we will not betray them.
Beside the site devastated by Saturday's hellfire blast, the two rivers that wash and soothe our town flow into each other and travel on together to the distant sea. They have always been a symbol of who we are here - two but one, Catholic, Protestant, unionist, nationalist, we need each other to make each other, we accept each other's differences and together.
We will not change. Though so many dear hearts have ceased to beat, their blood has flown together at the bottom of our street. We who must bury them now will walk together to their too-early graves and together into the future. We will not betray their poor ghosts.
Our friendship has not pleased everyone. Somewhere some people planned these deaths, to destroy the hopes of all who live in these islands for more peaceful days. Their old ways will not accept the new. They will have no share in our sharing. They speak with blasts of hate.
When we have returned from our burials, I would love to sit them down quietly with our poor, once-happy ghosts, to lead them to see that they can have all the happiness they want in our togetherness. But I can give them nothing that would come only from the denial of another's right to be and be his or her own self.
I cannot betray our poor dear suffering ghosts.
Further Information
Publisher: CAPPAGH
Ref: MAG/008
Published Date: 1998
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