SILENCE IS MOST ELOQUENT TRIBUTE
Silence is most eloquent tribute
Thousands gather in memory of blast victims
By JEANETTE OLDHAM
THE SUN shone down on Omagh yesterday - illuminating the chill of loss, but much more, the warmth of love that couldn't be killed.
It was the day that so many in the town had dreaded - the first anniversary of the Omagh bombing, Ulster's worst atrocity, which left 29 dead and 350 injured.
Thousands of people packed into High Street for a moving service in honour of those who could not be there and those who will bear the mental and physical scars of the blast for the rest of their lives.
They were joined by politicians from all sides, Secretary of State Mo Mowlam, Irish junior Foreign Affairs Minister Liz O'Donnell, and Nobel Peace Prize laureate and SDLP leader John Hume.
There were representatives from the town of Buncrana and the Spanish Embassy, whose communities also accounted for some of the 29 victims.
But after an intense build-up which saw tributes emanating from all over the world, it was the silence in the end that said the most.
At 3.12pm - exactly a year since deafening sound brought death and destruction - pure, impenetrable silence descended.
The only sound in the piercing quiet was the crying of a new-born baby - a fitting reminder of the little ones who lost their lives.
But it was also a powerful sign that no matter what hell the terrorists visit on innocents - ordinary, healthy, wholesome life will go on.
And there was a palpable sense of hope in the crowd yesterday. It was apparent in the huge turnout and the presence of brave bomb survivors like Una McGurk and Donna Marie McGillion, whose fresh young faces were burnt beyond recognition - and who must still wear protective masks.
Donna and her then fiance Gary were shopping for their wedding when the bomb went off.
Her toddler niece Breda Devine, who was to be a flower girl at the ceremony, was killed instantly.
Yesterday morning, Donna and Gary - whose recent wedding became a symbol of hope for the whole town - appeared on a live TV programme in London.
The interviewers marvelled at their determination to reclaim their lives and their astonishing lack of bitterness.
But by the afternoon, the couple were back in Omagh. Like so many others in the town, there was no other place they wanted to be.
Donna's smile in the sunshine showed that some survivors at least have managed to step beyond that surreal day.
But her tragic niece was clearly in her thoughts. At the nearby temporary garden of remembrance had been laid a pretty bouquet, with a card attached which bore the simple but heartfelt message: "God look after our little angel, love Donna and Gary."
Another heartwarming sight was Marion Radford, who lost her beloved 16-year-old son Alan, leading a symbolic water-pouring ceremony.
Only last week she was set on getting out of the town for the anniversary.
Clearly, she changed her mind, steeling herself to face thousands of people for the sake of publicly honouring her dead son's memory.
She was joined by the relatives of other victims of the Troubles, including Rita Restorick - mother of Stephen, the last soldier in the Province to be killed -and Margaret McKinney, whose son Brian was one of the so-called disappeared whose body was recently recovered in the Republic.
On Saturday hundreds gathered at the bomb scene for a solemn vigil. Then yesterday morning, the streets were eerily quiet.
But by 2pm, the crowds had begun to arrive. They came in ones and twos, couples, whole families, three generations, and before long there was a sea of faces stretching as far as the eye could see.
"A year has passed, a lonely year," Eilis Gallagher, a retired voluntary worker from Omagh, told the crowd. And thousands of heads nodded.
The words which seemed to touch the masses the most came from Father Kevin Mullan, a local priest who has counselled scores of the bereaved and injured over the past year.
"The graves are elsewhere, .. that earth lies quiet today upon what remains in this world of our dearest who have died."
And his soft tones seemed to fill the emptiness in the packed street.
"God alone can bring the dead to life," said the Rev John Murdoch. But all of Omagh proved otherwise yesterday; no one who died has been forgotten.
It's only a year since Omagh was plunged into a living hell, and the wounds are still so raw.
But you get the real sense that this town will turn out in its masses forever more to remember the lovely people who live on in their hearts and minds.
Everyone who addressed the crowd, spoke from the heart. Local GP Irfran Hassan, who identified the dead and treated the dying and wounded on the day of the bombing, spoke of the "blind and lame, those broken in heart and body."
Father Eugene Hasson paid tribute to the "devoted husbands and fathers, the treasured wives and loving mothers, the teenagers full of hope and promise, the fine sons and daughters, brothers and sisters."
But it was the words from youngsters caught up in the bombing that provoked the questions on everyone's lips: Why us? What was the point?
Omagh High School pupil Jessica McFarland asked: "Why, God, if we are made in your image, should we human beings do harm to one another?"
Young bomb survivor Steven Coyle asked: "Why do the innocent suffer, Lord, and the unjust so often seem to prosper and escape?"
Despite the massive turnout, there were many victims for whom returning to the place of their pain was simply too much to bear.
Several relatives of the dead and survivors, some of whom have never been back to the scene of the bombing, preferred to slip away for the weekend.
Omagh may be their home and where all the memories of their lost loved ones live on, but it is also, especially on a day like yesterday, a place of ghosts and those who mourn them.
Among those who stayed away from the memorial service was Lawrence Rush, who lost his adored wife of almost 40 years, Libby.
As the service began, he was with his brother, who had flown from England to be by his side at this difficult time, at the nearby Silverbirch Hotel.
He admitted staying there the night before because he couldn't bear to be in his empty house on the eve of the day that robbed him of the only woman he ever loved.
"I'm going to have a quiet family mass at home later," he said.
"I just want this weekend over with."
Yesterday's memorial service was yet another test of strength for the people of Omagh; yet another harrowing milestone to be overcome; just like the many funerals in the days afterwards and the many painful operations that have followed.
There clearly is hope in Omagh. How could there not be when thousands can unite in a public show of private grief, when the badly injured can smile through their pain, when lives that were shattered into shards of anguish can move forward?
Normal life is waiting a little way off for all the broken-hearted in this brave Co Tyrone town.
Thousands gather in memory of blast victims
By JEANETTE OLDHAM
THE SUN shone down on Omagh yesterday - illuminating the chill of loss, but much more, the warmth of love that couldn't be killed.
It was the day that so many in the town had dreaded - the first anniversary of the Omagh bombing, Ulster's worst atrocity, which left 29 dead and 350 injured.
Thousands of people packed into High Street for a moving service in honour of those who could not be there and those who will bear the mental and physical scars of the blast for the rest of their lives.
They were joined by politicians from all sides, Secretary of State Mo Mowlam, Irish junior Foreign Affairs Minister Liz O'Donnell, and Nobel Peace Prize laureate and SDLP leader John Hume.
There were representatives from the town of Buncrana and the Spanish Embassy, whose communities also accounted for some of the 29 victims.
But after an intense build-up which saw tributes emanating from all over the world, it was the silence in the end that said the most.
At 3.12pm - exactly a year since deafening sound brought death and destruction - pure, impenetrable silence descended.
The only sound in the piercing quiet was the crying of a new-born baby - a fitting reminder of the little ones who lost their lives.
But it was also a powerful sign that no matter what hell the terrorists visit on innocents - ordinary, healthy, wholesome life will go on.
And there was a palpable sense of hope in the crowd yesterday. It was apparent in the huge turnout and the presence of brave bomb survivors like Una McGurk and Donna Marie McGillion, whose fresh young faces were burnt beyond recognition - and who must still wear protective masks.
Donna and her then fiance Gary were shopping for their wedding when the bomb went off.
Her toddler niece Breda Devine, who was to be a flower girl at the ceremony, was killed instantly.
Yesterday morning, Donna and Gary - whose recent wedding became a symbol of hope for the whole town - appeared on a live TV programme in London.
The interviewers marvelled at their determination to reclaim their lives and their astonishing lack of bitterness.
But by the afternoon, the couple were back in Omagh. Like so many others in the town, there was no other place they wanted to be.
Donna's smile in the sunshine showed that some survivors at least have managed to step beyond that surreal day.
But her tragic niece was clearly in her thoughts. At the nearby temporary garden of remembrance had been laid a pretty bouquet, with a card attached which bore the simple but heartfelt message: "God look after our little angel, love Donna and Gary."
Another heartwarming sight was Marion Radford, who lost her beloved 16-year-old son Alan, leading a symbolic water-pouring ceremony.
Only last week she was set on getting out of the town for the anniversary.
Clearly, she changed her mind, steeling herself to face thousands of people for the sake of publicly honouring her dead son's memory.
She was joined by the relatives of other victims of the Troubles, including Rita Restorick - mother of Stephen, the last soldier in the Province to be killed -and Margaret McKinney, whose son Brian was one of the so-called disappeared whose body was recently recovered in the Republic.
On Saturday hundreds gathered at the bomb scene for a solemn vigil. Then yesterday morning, the streets were eerily quiet.
But by 2pm, the crowds had begun to arrive. They came in ones and twos, couples, whole families, three generations, and before long there was a sea of faces stretching as far as the eye could see.
"A year has passed, a lonely year," Eilis Gallagher, a retired voluntary worker from Omagh, told the crowd. And thousands of heads nodded.
The words which seemed to touch the masses the most came from Father Kevin Mullan, a local priest who has counselled scores of the bereaved and injured over the past year.
"The graves are elsewhere, .. that earth lies quiet today upon what remains in this world of our dearest who have died."
And his soft tones seemed to fill the emptiness in the packed street.
"God alone can bring the dead to life," said the Rev John Murdoch. But all of Omagh proved otherwise yesterday; no one who died has been forgotten.
It's only a year since Omagh was plunged into a living hell, and the wounds are still so raw.
But you get the real sense that this town will turn out in its masses forever more to remember the lovely people who live on in their hearts and minds.
Everyone who addressed the crowd, spoke from the heart. Local GP Irfran Hassan, who identified the dead and treated the dying and wounded on the day of the bombing, spoke of the "blind and lame, those broken in heart and body."
Father Eugene Hasson paid tribute to the "devoted husbands and fathers, the treasured wives and loving mothers, the teenagers full of hope and promise, the fine sons and daughters, brothers and sisters."
But it was the words from youngsters caught up in the bombing that provoked the questions on everyone's lips: Why us? What was the point?
Omagh High School pupil Jessica McFarland asked: "Why, God, if we are made in your image, should we human beings do harm to one another?"
Young bomb survivor Steven Coyle asked: "Why do the innocent suffer, Lord, and the unjust so often seem to prosper and escape?"
Despite the massive turnout, there were many victims for whom returning to the place of their pain was simply too much to bear.
Several relatives of the dead and survivors, some of whom have never been back to the scene of the bombing, preferred to slip away for the weekend.
Omagh may be their home and where all the memories of their lost loved ones live on, but it is also, especially on a day like yesterday, a place of ghosts and those who mourn them.
Among those who stayed away from the memorial service was Lawrence Rush, who lost his adored wife of almost 40 years, Libby.
As the service began, he was with his brother, who had flown from England to be by his side at this difficult time, at the nearby Silverbirch Hotel.
He admitted staying there the night before because he couldn't bear to be in his empty house on the eve of the day that robbed him of the only woman he ever loved.
"I'm going to have a quiet family mass at home later," he said.
"I just want this weekend over with."
Yesterday's memorial service was yet another test of strength for the people of Omagh; yet another harrowing milestone to be overcome; just like the many funerals in the days afterwards and the many painful operations that have followed.
There clearly is hope in Omagh. How could there not be when thousands can unite in a public show of private grief, when the badly injured can smile through their pain, when lives that were shattered into shards of anguish can move forward?
Normal life is waiting a little way off for all the broken-hearted in this brave Co Tyrone town.
Further Information
Publisher: NEWS LETTER
Ref: NL/233
Published Date: 16-Aug-99
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