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TRAUMA OF A NEW TERM

Trauma of a new term
By JEANETTE OLDHAM

THERE was only one focus of attention for pupils who returned to Omagh High School for the first day of a new term yesterday - two empty seats where bomb victims Lorraine Wilson, 15, and Alan Radford, 16, once sat.
Just six weeks ago this country school had everything that hard work and caring teachers bring - a good atmosphere, results to be proud of, and healthy, happy pupils.
Just six weeks ago the presence of both Protestant and Roman Catholic pupils within the school mirrored the cross-community harmony that has always blessed the town.
Yesterday, the school's outward appearance and reputation was unchanged. But inside were very different pupils - whose health and happiness were destroyed in the time it took classmates and former pupils to die in one summer holiday none of them will ever forget.
It was a day when pupils should have been preoccupied with summer holiday gossip.
But gossip was the last thing on their minds. None of them had the heart.
Instead, their attention was consumed with coming up with fitting ways to remember classmates whose absence screamed to be noticed with every uncomfortable name roll-call, every painful glance at empty desks.
There is something so utterly incongruous about the sight of children struggling to cope with a level of grief and pain no adult is equipped to deal with.
And head teacher Bill Harper admits it broke his heart to spot two girls crying - both had bomb injured relatives still in hospital.
He says the drive to work brought home the abnormality of the work day he had ahead of him.
"I saw the same cows, the same woman walking to work and I thought God, it all seems so normal.
"But it's far from normal at the school. It's the juxtaposition of normality next to this horror that is so hard to comprehend.
"One minute pupils are alive; the next they are dead. One minute pupils have their whole lives ahead of them; the next they are dead."
For a fleeting moment or two Mr Harper threw himself in to his work; arranging schedules and rotas for the new term.
But the craziness of his situation was brought home as his hand brushed nonchalantly against the files of murdered pupils and former pupils on his desk.
He pulls out a pretty flower-decorated card sent to him by former pupil Samantha McFarland. In it she thanked him for all his help during her time at the school.
He looks fondly at a passport-sized picture of Lorraine "She was a lovely girl. She had everything going for her.
"All the pupils who have died did. They had so many qualities that would have made them great adults."
His bitterness is clear "This school is mainly Protestant, but we have quite a few Catholic pupils as well. "The school mirrors the community; both religions getting on well together.
"We will never be the same again, many pupils are hurt, are damaged, some were injured themselves, some are still in hospital."
Bill admits that himself, other teachers and pupils have been wracked by a mixture of emotions from rage to grief in the days leading up to the start of the autumn term.
He has searched long and hard for answers to why his school had to suffer so badly, but he feels there just aren't any.
"I've given other teachers a set of guidelines on how to help pupils which includes being honest with themselves, sometimes telling them "I don't know" to questions like 'Why do people have to be murdered and maimed?'
"We all have to help each other, it will take a long time. People say time heals, but the pain only fades, it never goes away."

Further Information

Publisher: NEWS LETTER

Ref: NL/256

Published Date: 02-Sep-98

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