OMAGH'S ELEGY TO THOSE LOVED ONES
OMAGH'S ELEGY TO THOSE LOVED ONES
Report: JACKIE MCKEOWN Pictures: IAN MAGILL
THE WAITING was nearly at an end. Shop shutters clattered down, the crowd had quietly gathered, and even the noise of the traffic abated.
Then the church bells began to toll. The first anniversary of Ulster's worst atrocity - a moment so many dreaded, but had to face - finally arrived.
For 10 long minutes, the bells rang out over the sombre gathering.
Thoughts of that 10 minutes, a year ago, when so many loved ones were alive, healthy and happy, flashed through the minds of those at the spot where 31 souls had perished. Red-eyed teenagers clung to their friends; husbands, wives, brothers and sisters, remembering the moments before they were plunged into an unfathomable horror. Then, a minute's silence at 10 past three, when pure evil had exploded in their midst.
Stoically holding firm, the relatives of the dead, the injured, and the traumatised, clutched their floral tributes as they endured. Nightmarish thoughts of the sights, sounds, and smells, of lives crumbling, hung heavily in the muggy air.
Then, came the words of Presbyterian minister Robert Herron:
"In our street, blood and water flowed, silence shouts to those with ears to hear.
Hey you, who still have breath, who have not had to drink this cup of wrath, look hard upon death.
And let these few wrecked buildings keep now the silent voices of our people."
To bowed heads, he continued:
"We have gone, our blood has done its work. "You must go on, press on, into life."
Catholic priest Kevin Mullan then led the Lord's Prayer: "Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us."
Simple, familiar words. But surely the hardest words to say, as images of smiling children destined never to grow old, and mothers who lie cold in the earth, come flooding back.
For what is asked for, is not only creed, forgiveness for the bombers. But for the scores who,by their silence, have coldly set themselves apart from the human beings on this island.
Yes, here there is anger and disappointment that they did not hand the bombers over.
A shadow has been cast over the community's recovery. Still they are determined to persevere, each aching, painful step of the way.
The rain scattered down again on the new bouquets adorning the Garden of Remembrance.
People of every age, class, and creed queued to lay their own floral tribute or simply offer a prayer.
Messages of love, sympathy, support from all over the world lay on the ground, and poetry, written through tears, was attached to the garden archway. One read:
"If only they had felt the awful hurt they caused, maybe before this mission they would have paused
But if division and anger they wanted to start
They have found out that they did not break our heart."
Report: JACKIE MCKEOWN Pictures: IAN MAGILL
THE WAITING was nearly at an end. Shop shutters clattered down, the crowd had quietly gathered, and even the noise of the traffic abated.
Then the church bells began to toll. The first anniversary of Ulster's worst atrocity - a moment so many dreaded, but had to face - finally arrived.
For 10 long minutes, the bells rang out over the sombre gathering.
Thoughts of that 10 minutes, a year ago, when so many loved ones were alive, healthy and happy, flashed through the minds of those at the spot where 31 souls had perished. Red-eyed teenagers clung to their friends; husbands, wives, brothers and sisters, remembering the moments before they were plunged into an unfathomable horror. Then, a minute's silence at 10 past three, when pure evil had exploded in their midst.
Stoically holding firm, the relatives of the dead, the injured, and the traumatised, clutched their floral tributes as they endured. Nightmarish thoughts of the sights, sounds, and smells, of lives crumbling, hung heavily in the muggy air.
Then, came the words of Presbyterian minister Robert Herron:
"In our street, blood and water flowed, silence shouts to those with ears to hear.
Hey you, who still have breath, who have not had to drink this cup of wrath, look hard upon death.
And let these few wrecked buildings keep now the silent voices of our people."
To bowed heads, he continued:
"We have gone, our blood has done its work. "You must go on, press on, into life."
Catholic priest Kevin Mullan then led the Lord's Prayer: "Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us."
Simple, familiar words. But surely the hardest words to say, as images of smiling children destined never to grow old, and mothers who lie cold in the earth, come flooding back.
For what is asked for, is not only creed, forgiveness for the bombers. But for the scores who,by their silence, have coldly set themselves apart from the human beings on this island.
Yes, here there is anger and disappointment that they did not hand the bombers over.
A shadow has been cast over the community's recovery. Still they are determined to persevere, each aching, painful step of the way.
The rain scattered down again on the new bouquets adorning the Garden of Remembrance.
People of every age, class, and creed queued to lay their own floral tribute or simply offer a prayer.
Messages of love, sympathy, support from all over the world lay on the ground, and poetry, written through tears, was attached to the garden archway. One read:
"If only they had felt the awful hurt they caused, maybe before this mission they would have paused
But if division and anger they wanted to start
They have found out that they did not break our heart."
Further Information
Publisher: SUNDAY LIFE
Ref: SL/089
Published Date: 15-Aug-99
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