OMAGH THE ON GOING PAIN AND HEARTACHE
Omagh - the on-going pain and heartache
Will there ever be justice for the Omagh victims and their families? Every day life for their loved ones is still tinged with the clouds of grief
By SANDRA CHAPMAN
Maybe the relatives of the Omagh victims didn't notice the sunshine in their town on Saturday.
It filled the town centre and built up a heat that had the shoppers grabbing the chance to sit down on a public seat wherever they could find one.
The young amongst them wore the latest fashions, listened to music through headsets and browsed around the shop windows.
It looked so normal, like any other average town on a Saturday. It must have looked like that on August 15, four years ago when evil came to the town.
Omagh still bears the scars of one of the worst atrocities of the troubles, an event which killed 29 people and unborn twins.
We will all remember what we were doing when the news started to come through. As the death toll rose a quiet shock prevailed in most of us. How could they sink so low? When would it all end?
Four years on, the town is still recovering; High Street and Market Street which took such a battering are coming together again as shops are rebuilt, a little bit stylishly than before perhaps. But this part of Omagh deserves the facelift.
Down in the River Strule a fisherman was casting a line, his dog at his heels. And up on the River Bank, on the other side of the brightly painted blue bridge which spans the river, a small figure, dressed in black was sitting in one of the seats of the Memorial Garden dedicated to the victims.
Rosaleen Thomson lives in Edinburgh and was on a short holiday, staying with her brother who lives in Omagh.
She was clutching a few bags of shopping, her back to the sun, quietly remembering the sister she lost in the awful tragedy.
Ann McComb was just 48 and a stunning looking woman. Her husband Stanley to whom she had been married 25 years said she was his 'very best friend.'
She and Rosaleen, who were born in Strabane, were close and though they lived in different parts of the UK, often visited each other.
Ann was a shop assistant at Watterson's drapery store and was on her lunch break that awful day when she found herself; with others, behind a security cordon while police checked out a bomb warning, supposedly at the Courthouse complex.
It wasn't, of course. It was left at the junction of Market Street and Dublin Road not far from the cordoned off area and exploded with devastating results - exactly as the Real IRA had planned.
In an instant Ann's sons Clive 22 and Colan 18 were deprived of their mother at a time in their lives when mums are very important.
That's the age when young men like to bring home their girlfriends, play loud music and persuade mums to wash dirty football kit.
Their happy home life was destroyed and they will live with the memory for the rest of their lives.
Rosaleen Thompson's face is etched with the lines that grief engraves. She had been on the seat for about half an hour and the tears were now dried up.
"I like it here," she said. "It's a nice place to remember her. I miss everything about Ann. We were close as sisters and I miss her so much."
She spoke not a word of criticism or bitterness about what happened. Life, she told me, moves on and she has had to move on too.
She thought they had done a nice job of restoring the bombed buildings and yes, she would come back again to see her family.
She had been in the Memorial Garden a few days before when families of those killed came to remember the fourth anniversary.
And they were able to extend their love to the victims of the September 11 attacks.
The little garden is simple and colourful. Summer flowers spilled over from the wooden tubs surrounding the circle and individual bouquets had been laid on the bark which forms a mound in the middle.
The fisherman's dog could be heard barking excitedly in the river below. Rosaleen thought it was time she left. The wind tugged at her blonde hair and she managed a smile.
"I just hope they keep this garden," she said without a trace of her Ulster accent. "It's so peaceful here."
She will never again enjoy the sisterly chats she looked forward to.
Ann will not be around to share their childhood memories of Strabane and they will not grow old together or enjoy shopping expeditions around the streets of Omagh.
Christmas must be awful for her, so too must Anne's birthday.
The Omagh bombing incident is stil1 not over as relatives are determined to have the culprits brought to court This need to find the perpetrators is understandable even if it prolongs the grief for those affected.
But one day, hopefully, people like Rosaleen will find justice.
Will there ever be justice for the Omagh victims and their families? Every day life for their loved ones is still tinged with the clouds of grief
By SANDRA CHAPMAN
Maybe the relatives of the Omagh victims didn't notice the sunshine in their town on Saturday.
It filled the town centre and built up a heat that had the shoppers grabbing the chance to sit down on a public seat wherever they could find one.
The young amongst them wore the latest fashions, listened to music through headsets and browsed around the shop windows.
It looked so normal, like any other average town on a Saturday. It must have looked like that on August 15, four years ago when evil came to the town.
Omagh still bears the scars of one of the worst atrocities of the troubles, an event which killed 29 people and unborn twins.
We will all remember what we were doing when the news started to come through. As the death toll rose a quiet shock prevailed in most of us. How could they sink so low? When would it all end?
Four years on, the town is still recovering; High Street and Market Street which took such a battering are coming together again as shops are rebuilt, a little bit stylishly than before perhaps. But this part of Omagh deserves the facelift.
Down in the River Strule a fisherman was casting a line, his dog at his heels. And up on the River Bank, on the other side of the brightly painted blue bridge which spans the river, a small figure, dressed in black was sitting in one of the seats of the Memorial Garden dedicated to the victims.
Rosaleen Thomson lives in Edinburgh and was on a short holiday, staying with her brother who lives in Omagh.
She was clutching a few bags of shopping, her back to the sun, quietly remembering the sister she lost in the awful tragedy.
Ann McComb was just 48 and a stunning looking woman. Her husband Stanley to whom she had been married 25 years said she was his 'very best friend.'
She and Rosaleen, who were born in Strabane, were close and though they lived in different parts of the UK, often visited each other.
Ann was a shop assistant at Watterson's drapery store and was on her lunch break that awful day when she found herself; with others, behind a security cordon while police checked out a bomb warning, supposedly at the Courthouse complex.
It wasn't, of course. It was left at the junction of Market Street and Dublin Road not far from the cordoned off area and exploded with devastating results - exactly as the Real IRA had planned.
In an instant Ann's sons Clive 22 and Colan 18 were deprived of their mother at a time in their lives when mums are very important.
That's the age when young men like to bring home their girlfriends, play loud music and persuade mums to wash dirty football kit.
Their happy home life was destroyed and they will live with the memory for the rest of their lives.
Rosaleen Thompson's face is etched with the lines that grief engraves. She had been on the seat for about half an hour and the tears were now dried up.
"I like it here," she said. "It's a nice place to remember her. I miss everything about Ann. We were close as sisters and I miss her so much."
She spoke not a word of criticism or bitterness about what happened. Life, she told me, moves on and she has had to move on too.
She thought they had done a nice job of restoring the bombed buildings and yes, she would come back again to see her family.
She had been in the Memorial Garden a few days before when families of those killed came to remember the fourth anniversary.
And they were able to extend their love to the victims of the September 11 attacks.
The little garden is simple and colourful. Summer flowers spilled over from the wooden tubs surrounding the circle and individual bouquets had been laid on the bark which forms a mound in the middle.
The fisherman's dog could be heard barking excitedly in the river below. Rosaleen thought it was time she left. The wind tugged at her blonde hair and she managed a smile.
"I just hope they keep this garden," she said without a trace of her Ulster accent. "It's so peaceful here."
She will never again enjoy the sisterly chats she looked forward to.
Ann will not be around to share their childhood memories of Strabane and they will not grow old together or enjoy shopping expeditions around the streets of Omagh.
Christmas must be awful for her, so too must Anne's birthday.
The Omagh bombing incident is stil1 not over as relatives are determined to have the culprits brought to court This need to find the perpetrators is understandable even if it prolongs the grief for those affected.
But one day, hopefully, people like Rosaleen will find justice.
Further Information
Publisher: NEWS LETTER
Ref: NL/442
Published Date: 21-Aug-02
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