DARK SKIES HEAVY HEARTS AS DEAD ARE REMEMBERED
Dark skies, heavy hearts as dead are remembered
BY DAVID YOUNG
A THICK slate cloud sat low above Omagh yesterday, some in the rural market town say it has hung there for the past 10 years.
It had been such a different day in 1998. The sun was high in the sky that summer afternoon, bathing the crowd of shoppers down below.
As the new memorial to the bomb victims now recalls, "ordinary people were doing ordinary things on an ordinary day".
But ahead of yesterday's service to mark the 10th anniversary of the Real IRA atrocity, Market Street was almost deserted.
The torrential rain kept many away but there are locals who claim that part of the town has never been as busy since the bomb ripped it apart.
Too many memories still stalk the pavements where Omagh's heart was shattered.
Omagh District Council had made provisions to accommodate 10,000 at the commemoration, in the event less than half that number turned out.
Those who did huddled under a sea of umbrellas waiting for the service to begin. Still the rain came down.
At 10 minutes past three -the exact time the bomb exploded 10 years ago- the crowds fell silent for a minute of reflection.
As a nearby church bell rang to mark its conclusion, the driving rain returned. But no brollies were raised. Heads remained still and bowed.
Local man Ronnie Moran recited John Hewitt's poem Neither an Elegy nor Manifesto.
But the last line he left to relatives of three of the bomb's victims.
John McLaughlin from Buncrana, whose 12-year-old son Sean died, read it in Irish first: "Coinnigh i gcuimhne na mairibh seo."
Then Ana Abad, the sister of 23-year-old Madrid youth leader Rocio Abad Ramos, recited: "Tened en cuenta a estos muertos."
Finally Caroline Martin, whose sister Esther Gibson, 36, was also killed, repeated it in English: "Bear in mind these dead."
At that prompt the Duchess of Abercorn read out the names of those who lost their lives - her only accompaniment the patter of raindrops on canvas.
Former Lebanon hostage Terry Waite then gave a short address - his theme the painful and fruitless quest for justice - and trauma counsellor David Bolton read out a passage penned by one of the victim's mothers.
"Inner healing begins when we give up the hope for a better yesterday and take the first step towards making a better tomorrow," she had written.
The underlying theme of the anniversary event was light.
The new Garden of Remembrance hosts 31 poles, each representing one of the lives the Real IRA snatched away that mid-summer afternoon.
On top of each is fixed a mirror, with their collective light bouncing off a series of larger mirrors until finally it shines on a newly erected glass obelisk at the bomb site on Market Street.
The high-tech memorial has proved contentious, with some relatives claiming it's a needless monstrosity.
But one sodden onlooker at the ceremony had a different view.
"I like it," he said.
"It looks like the light from an angel.
"That part of the town has been dark for too long."
BY DAVID YOUNG
A THICK slate cloud sat low above Omagh yesterday, some in the rural market town say it has hung there for the past 10 years.
It had been such a different day in 1998. The sun was high in the sky that summer afternoon, bathing the crowd of shoppers down below.
As the new memorial to the bomb victims now recalls, "ordinary people were doing ordinary things on an ordinary day".
But ahead of yesterday's service to mark the 10th anniversary of the Real IRA atrocity, Market Street was almost deserted.
The torrential rain kept many away but there are locals who claim that part of the town has never been as busy since the bomb ripped it apart.
Too many memories still stalk the pavements where Omagh's heart was shattered.
Omagh District Council had made provisions to accommodate 10,000 at the commemoration, in the event less than half that number turned out.
Those who did huddled under a sea of umbrellas waiting for the service to begin. Still the rain came down.
At 10 minutes past three -the exact time the bomb exploded 10 years ago- the crowds fell silent for a minute of reflection.
As a nearby church bell rang to mark its conclusion, the driving rain returned. But no brollies were raised. Heads remained still and bowed.
Local man Ronnie Moran recited John Hewitt's poem Neither an Elegy nor Manifesto.
But the last line he left to relatives of three of the bomb's victims.
John McLaughlin from Buncrana, whose 12-year-old son Sean died, read it in Irish first: "Coinnigh i gcuimhne na mairibh seo."
Then Ana Abad, the sister of 23-year-old Madrid youth leader Rocio Abad Ramos, recited: "Tened en cuenta a estos muertos."
Finally Caroline Martin, whose sister Esther Gibson, 36, was also killed, repeated it in English: "Bear in mind these dead."
At that prompt the Duchess of Abercorn read out the names of those who lost their lives - her only accompaniment the patter of raindrops on canvas.
Former Lebanon hostage Terry Waite then gave a short address - his theme the painful and fruitless quest for justice - and trauma counsellor David Bolton read out a passage penned by one of the victim's mothers.
"Inner healing begins when we give up the hope for a better yesterday and take the first step towards making a better tomorrow," she had written.
The underlying theme of the anniversary event was light.
The new Garden of Remembrance hosts 31 poles, each representing one of the lives the Real IRA snatched away that mid-summer afternoon.
On top of each is fixed a mirror, with their collective light bouncing off a series of larger mirrors until finally it shines on a newly erected glass obelisk at the bomb site on Market Street.
The high-tech memorial has proved contentious, with some relatives claiming it's a needless monstrosity.
But one sodden onlooker at the ceremony had a different view.
"I like it," he said.
"It looks like the light from an angel.
"That part of the town has been dark for too long."
Further Information
Publisher: NEWS LETTER
Ref: NL10An/18
Published Date: 16-Aug-08
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