FAMILIES UNITE IN GRIEF AS BODIES GO HOME
Families unite in grief as bodies go home
By CLARE GRANT
THROUGH a heavily guarded barrier, car after car slipped quietly into the Army barracks of Omagh town.
Behind its protective high sensors, beyond its bullet-resistant gates, the dead have lain for three days. At last their families had come to take them home to where they belonged.
There, on Gortin Road outside the Lisanelly Camp, the people began to gather.
They lined the roadside waiting, patiently.
They watched silently as the hearses were waved straight through the checkpoint, bearing empty oak coffins with gleaming brass handles.
Families
This was misery. And yet there was a rather strange comfort to be had.
"At least tonight they will be with their families again," said one woman
Somehow you knew exactly what she meant.
In the Army barracks a makeshift morgue had been set up.
It was in a cavernous red brick hangar with hard wooden floorboards and clinical white walls.
There, in rows, the bodies have lain alone in the cold and dark.
At home it will be warm, candles will be lit and families will be there for them, sitting at their sides. Just after 10 o'clock, there was a murmur through the waiting line of people.
They straightened themselves upright as the first coffin was driven slowly out of the Army camp.
It was a dark, seemingly never ending procession. Family after family waited its turn to leave the barracks walking grimly behind its dead.
There was little 21-month-old Breda Devine in a tiny white coffin, which barely filled a fraction of the hearse.
And football-loving Brenda Logue, who at 17 was goalkeeper for her county.
Beside her coffin was a red and white football of flowers.
Five coffins, the same grim ritual.
This had been planned with military precision.
The coffins were supposed to leave every half hour, but grieving relatives are not very efficient.
It is very hard to be on time when you are holding up a grief-stricken girl who has just lost her mother.
Or when you are comforting a weeping old man who thought he would be in his grave before his child.
But yesterday no one blamed them.
Then the mourners left in separate cars to keep vigil beside their dead loved ones.
But the people of Omagh will return again to Gortin Road until all 28 victims have finally returned home.
By CLARE GRANT
THROUGH a heavily guarded barrier, car after car slipped quietly into the Army barracks of Omagh town.
Behind its protective high sensors, beyond its bullet-resistant gates, the dead have lain for three days. At last their families had come to take them home to where they belonged.
There, on Gortin Road outside the Lisanelly Camp, the people began to gather.
They lined the roadside waiting, patiently.
They watched silently as the hearses were waved straight through the checkpoint, bearing empty oak coffins with gleaming brass handles.
Families
This was misery. And yet there was a rather strange comfort to be had.
"At least tonight they will be with their families again," said one woman
Somehow you knew exactly what she meant.
In the Army barracks a makeshift morgue had been set up.
It was in a cavernous red brick hangar with hard wooden floorboards and clinical white walls.
There, in rows, the bodies have lain alone in the cold and dark.
At home it will be warm, candles will be lit and families will be there for them, sitting at their sides. Just after 10 o'clock, there was a murmur through the waiting line of people.
They straightened themselves upright as the first coffin was driven slowly out of the Army camp.
It was a dark, seemingly never ending procession. Family after family waited its turn to leave the barracks walking grimly behind its dead.
There was little 21-month-old Breda Devine in a tiny white coffin, which barely filled a fraction of the hearse.
And football-loving Brenda Logue, who at 17 was goalkeeper for her county.
Beside her coffin was a red and white football of flowers.
Five coffins, the same grim ritual.
This had been planned with military precision.
The coffins were supposed to leave every half hour, but grieving relatives are not very efficient.
It is very hard to be on time when you are holding up a grief-stricken girl who has just lost her mother.
Or when you are comforting a weeping old man who thought he would be in his grave before his child.
But yesterday no one blamed them.
Then the mourners left in separate cars to keep vigil beside their dead loved ones.
But the people of Omagh will return again to Gortin Road until all 28 victims have finally returned home.
Further Information
Publisher: THE MIRROR
Ref: TM/041
Published Date: 19-Aug-98
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