75. Peter Hooton, Singer
The memories of that fateful day are still very raw and I still find it difficult to look at images or footage of the tragedy. There are so many emotions surrounding the events of the day and like many there on the 15th April 1989, I still don't think I have really fully come to terms with it. As an eyewitness from the North Stand, I watched the events unfold unaware of the severity of the tragedy and then in disbelief as I saw Liverpool fans trying to revive victims who had been carried the full length of the pitch on advertising hoardings.
My initial emotions were of anger and frustration at the authorities' inadequate reaction to the disaster but also a great sense of pride as I witnessed the real heroes on that day; ordinary Liverpool fans who took control of the rescue operation. A few days later these same fans had to read lies in the 'gutter press' in a classic smear orchestrated by the authorities via the odious Kelvin MacKenzie and his minions. Following 3,776 written statements, over 1,500 letters, 70 hours of video footage and the evidence of 174 witnesses in court Lord Justice Taylor did not find a shred of evidence to support the reports in The Sun newspaper. In fact, Lord Justice Taylor called Liverpool fans response to the unfolding disaster 'magnificent', praising them for actually initiating and taking control of the rescue operation as those supposed to be in control 'froze'. These allegations in The Sun were later called 'disgraceful lies' by Lord Justice Stuart Smith in a scrutiny in 1997 to look at new evidence.
In the 22 years since the disaster, football has been transformed beyond recognition with the Premiership becoming a global phenomenon. Many point to that day and the death of 96 innocent Liverpool fans being the catalyst which changed the face of the modern game in England. Sadly it took the death of innocent men, women and children for the powers that be to look at their approach to crowd control and safety.
The real culprits for the tragedy have never been held to account and this has been a constant reminder to Liverpool fans of the injustice surrounding the authorities' response to the tragedy. Even though Lord Justice Taylor public enquiry into the disaster soon after found that the 'main reason for the disaster was a failure of police control' and that Chief Superintendent David Duckinfield's decision to open the gates which led to the crush was a 'blunder of the first magnitude' nobody has ever been held culpable unlike the 1985 Heysel tragedy where both fans and people in control of events and crowd safety on that day, namely the Brussels police chief, the head of the Belgian FA and the general secretary of UEFA were put on trial and were convicted of 'criminal negligence' and 'involuntary manslaughter' receiving fines and suspended prison sentences
The 96 will never be forgotten and the campaign to hold those responsible will never cease until justice has been done!
76. Dave Kirby, Writer
ANOTHER SPRING
The dawn arrives to greet the day
Daffodils dance and songbird's sing
I know that grief is on the way
Another year - another spring
Thoughts - visions - sights - sounds
Silent guilt - silent tears
Pain and sorrow all around
It's here again - that time of year
Mother Nature comforts the soul
With floral colours that gently entwine
It takes me to a field of gold
A beautiful vision from 89
As time rolls on - each passing year
I feel more close to those who fell
I live in hope that soon we'll hear
The deafening toll of the justice bell
Ninety six loved ones - ninety six lives
Each one a person - a face with a name
Sons, daughters, husbands, wives
Remembered forever by an eternal flame
Every April feels the same
Daffodils dance and songbird's sing
Guilt - anger - sorrow - pain
Another year - another spring
77. Magnus Thor Jonsson, Supporter, Iceland
Coming from as far as Iceland, the happenings at Hillsborough on the 15th of April 1989 really put Liverpool and football into perspective.
My 18th birthday was the day before and on the night of 15th April there was going to be a big school fair so me and my mates gathered around our TV sets to wait for our beloved club. The most famous Icelandic sports analyst was at the stadium and as the horrible scenes were unveiled on our screens, the face of football changed in my mind. Life stopped and I still remember that day like yesterday. I stayed home that night.
Nothing will ever compensate for 96 football fans leaving their homes for a game, never to return. In the weeks following the tragedy I listened to BBC and read everything I could, as I was really worried my club had decided to stop. And I understood those feelings, wouldn't have been mad or sad, because this club is really about it's fans and was in pains. And still a big part of our family is, as we must never forget.
During my visits to Liverpool since then I have met people who lost their relatives, been to a memorial service on the Kop and travelled specially for the home game in the FA cup in 2007 to be able to say to people I joined in the 'Justice chanting' at the start. I have written articles on Liverpool websites which have been quoted elsewhere about 'The Truth' of that day, and used each chance given to tell people what really happened and how important it is we'll never see something like that again. But above all, that day told us to treasure each day and value the experience of loving Liverpool Football Club. You never know if you will be able to do that tomorrow.
78. James Carroll, Liverpoolfc.tv journalist
What does Hillsborough mean to me? Tragedy. Hurt. Questions. Cover-ups. Disgust. Lies. Anger. Injustice. Solidarity. Determination. Fight. Pride. One day, justice will prevail. They will never walk alone.
79. Bordessa72, Supporter
I was 17 years old when my friend and I travelled to Hillsborough. We got into the ground in plenty of time and headed down the tunnel towards the centre pen and as we got into the daylight we realised the pen was full. I turned left and went into the next pen but my friend stood his ground and we argued were we were to watch the match. Eventually he joined me in the next pen.
As kick off neared the Liverpool players came out and an article 20 years later reminded me that Alan Hansen had been out for most of the season and was out warming up to the chants of 'Jockey is Back' and all my memories came flooding back. The only thing I remember about the game was Beardsley hitting the bar then all hell let loose.
We didn't know what was happening but things were not right and we had to get out onto the pitch which some fans had done. We got out via a tunnel which separated the pens and we could then see what was happening and as we made it just through the gate I remember a police officer saying, 'Oh no you don't 'and pushed us back in. We eventually got out and I ran to the fences shouting to a police officer that we needed wire cutters but the look on his face said it all. Like many others, we ran at the Forest fans who were booing but didn't know the full extent of what was happening.
With no help arriving we had to get the injured over to the other side of the ground using advertising boards, with a police officer giving CPR to a very young blonde boy with his father kneeling beside him, then his father picks him up in his arms and he runs and runs. These memories are so vivid and a few times during the week I find myself thinking of everything that happened that day.
There have been many tragedies over the years which have had closure but because football fans and in particular Scousers where at Hillsborough, the way the 96 and their families have been treated is an absolute disgrace. The government, South Yorkshire Police and, in particular, the FA should be ashamed of themselves. We will never forget the way we have been treated and we will never forget the 96. Y.N.W.A. That's what Hillsborough means to me.
80. Kristian Walsh, Supporter
I was two-years-old when 96 people never came home from an FA Cup semi final. I probably fathomed the events of that day then as much as I do now.
I don't remember Hillsborough; I'd never dare claim to possess the same strength of emotion felt by those who watched it on television or, even worse, experienced it in person. I know this to be true as I know a large number of people, some I'd include as my dearest friends, were there.
I feel anger about the scurrilous, hurtful lies a certain rag published causing grief to so many; anger which rises within me every time I hear its name or the name of its editor, the most despicable human being on the face of this earth.
I feel hurt that the 96 were like any other supporter who wanted to watch their football club; hurt that mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, sons and daughters were taken away far too early from this world.
I feel confusion at how justice has yet to be served; confusion at how the loss of 96 innocent lives is consistently met with such a blasé attitude from the government.
All of what I feel is strong, but nowhere near as strong as those who have suffered directly from that day onwards. For that, I sometimes feel relief and sometimes feel a strange regret - regret that I wasn't there to help people both during the tragedy and in the aftermath of it.
The people who died at Hillsborough would still be on the Kop today following their football team. A hug at Istanbul or a sing song in Cardiff, lost forever. That's why even those who are too young to even remember it pain so much; the 96 were normal supporters like us, attending a game of football to cheer the mighty reds into another cup final.
No person should go to a football game and never return home; no family should have to live afterwards without justice ever being served. The people who should be held culpable for their deaths never have been. For the 96, we must continue to fight for it.
No matter where you are in Anfield, it's hard not to spot the eternal flame. It rests upon our crest. It rests upon pin badges and stickers. It flickers, never ending, inside the Hillsborough memorial. A reminder to us all that no one should have to suffer what those who knew the 96 suffered; a reminder that no one should never return home from a game of football.
But most of all, it's a reminder that they're always in our hearts; their memory will never extinguish. Justice for the 96; we will never forget you.
81. Andy Yates, Supporter
I'm by no means the world's best Liverpool supporter and I only stood on the Kop as a kid a few times due to half my family being Blue and the other Red. I'm even a Wirral-born lad (or plastic Scouser), I've never experienced an away game in Europe and I wasn't even born when Hillsborough happened. But because of the club I support and the people that support it, I know the story. It angers me, shocks me, surprises me, even inspires me. I've read the stories of people who were there, and witnessed it. And, like too many Liverpool supporters, I know someone who was there that day. My nan has only told me once of that day her son (my uncle) sat at the opposite end of Leppings Lane, losing two of his friends in the crush. When you hear these stories from your own family you feel connected to what happened, and even though you can't do anything about it, you feel the injustice and the pain that those families feel.
Now my story may not be the most inspiring or gut wrenching, but it shows what Liverpool Football Club is all about. A fan who wasn't even born in 1989 knows the story, the pain and the losses of that day. I use what I have been told to tell others, to tell of the injustice and the sadness that changed peoples' lives. It's the worst story I've ever heard in my life, but it has made my love for Liverpool Football Club deeper. I hope justice comes to those who deserve it, and I will tell the story to my children in years to come.
82. Stephen Done, Liverpool FC museum curator
It's a disaster of such profound sadness that it is difficult to sum it up. When 96 people die you can't consign it to history. At a time when people get worried football is losing touch with the fans, I think it is important that a club that is a multi-million pound business never loses sight of what happened that day.
It's sometimes easy to forget that many thousands are still damaged and affected by it. It wasn't just the ones who died. There are all the survivors, family and friends who to this day, have to remember that horrific event.
In some ways you can think of the club before and after Hillsborough. It's part of what makes Liverpool Football Club what it is now. At Anfield we have the Hillsborough memorial as a permanent monument to those who died. It can be found next to the Shankly Gates where there is the living flame and the names of the 96. Every single day tributes are laid there and every time we have a home match it is flooded with scarves and beautiful gestures.
The club crest also changed as a result of Hillsborough. In 1992 - the year of Liverpool's centenary - chief executive/general secretary Peter Robinson made the decision that they would review the crest and make a permanent memorial to the victims of Hillsborough. Hence, the flame on either side of the crest with the top the section of the Shankly Gates saying, You'll Never Walk Alone.
83. Peter Denk, Supporter, Nambia
I am writing from Namibia, in the south western part of Africa, far away from Liverpool city and Liverpool FC, the club I am so much part of. The Hillsborough disaster reveals more about the sprit and strength and honesty of all the people connected with Liverpool FC and most especially families of the people who died such a horrible death on that afternoon of April 15.
I am reminded by this spirit of togetherness and honesty as I look at pictures of people holding out their hands from above the standing terraces, reaching out to people to pull them to safety, despite the obvious risk that the person above faces. I hear the desperation from below, in my third eye I see the franticness of such a desperate situation. I get a big knot in my throat as I see a hand reaching out and people are pulled to safety. Further down below I try to imagine the finality of the situation, too ghastly to imagine as people suffer a slow and horrible death. 96 people. I cannot, I was never there. I pause though and say a prayer for those 96. Rest in Peace.
I get out and cast an eye, I see the advertising boards are ripped from their spaces with bare hands and people assist how they can. I salute Liverpool and its great fans. I say Ubuntu, togetherness.
Because of this, standing terraces are banned. It must be banned forever because moves to try and unban it reveals terrible insensitivity towards the bereaved families and most of all those that have died.
I am also reminded though by another ugly part of the human spirit. I read the lies, the behind the scenes plots, the ugliness makes me step back and ask, how and why? I am told that is how the human spirit is. Ugly and Beautiful. I cannot understand but I am consoled that there is a conscience, a sense of right and wrong. I salute the bereaved families, I salute Liverpool FC and I salute Liverpool fans.
84. Gordon Brown, Former Prime Minister
People will never forget that day; it's etched on our memories. I don't think we can ever forget the 96 people who died.
I think that the families, in trying to cope with this disaster, have had the support of all decent minded people across the country. I think that's probably what matters most: that people understood that the behaviour of Liverpool fans in helping each other was, as I think the judge said, 'Magnificent'; that it was wrong for people to blame, as some did, Liverpool fans on that day and it's right that the Freedom of the City has been given to the families of Liverpool fans on the occasion of the 20th anniversary of this disaster.
I think people have learned first of all not to rush to instant judgments and some of the people who did rush to instant judgments have been proven wrong and that's why the Liverpool people are so respected throughout the country. The work that they did to help each other on that day and subsequent events when people had to help each other through the difficult times is something that will never be forgotten.
Let's never forget the fans who cruelly lost their lives on a day when we know the people of Liverpool were trying, if they were in that ground, to help each other and that's the spirit of Liverpool.
85. Nick L, Supporter, Australia
I wasn't around in 1989. Nor am I really around today, considering I live on the opposite side of the world. But Hillsborough, the disaster, the tragedy, and the subsequent compassionate response from fans, will always strike a heart chord with me. Training at the LFC Academy two years ago, on a football tour of the UK and Spain, I had the privilege of experiencing the 20th anniversary of the disaster.
The simple way in which fans on the day went about business in a most reverential, respectful and mutually compassionate nature was purely a marvel. It seemed to me to embody the core essence of the solidarity of the club. I've never had the opportunity to be at Anfield on game day, but I, as much as anybody, know that each of the 96 fans that lost their life that day live on in the hearts of the millions of fans around the world.
To the 96, and those considered their loved ones, I extend a hand of respect, love and recognition. Know that every man, woman, boy and girl walking the world with a red heart, is walking the road to justice alongside you. Because of this, know that you will forever and always, never walk alone.
86. Matt Owen, Community Manager, Liverpoolfc.tv
The chances are you're reading this on a computer or even a phone that would've seemed the stuff of science fiction to a 16-yea- old lad in 1989. In this era of Smartphones and Twitter, communication takes place in an instant and the world is a much smaller place. GPS, SMS, Email, IM make friends and families instantly accessible.
On that 15th April 1989, a mobile phone was unheard of, certainly amongst me and my friends. They went to Sheffield that day and I stayed at home, with Grandstand and the radio coverage to look forward to. As kick off approached I was envious of my friends at the ground but looking forward to hearing about another Liverpool victory later in the day.
Slowly the news began to emerge and it became obvious that something was terribly wrong. The initial reflex action of the broadcasters was to suspect crowd trouble but it was soon obvious this was something very different.
From that point on, the day became about an agonising race between the television and radio which slowly unfolded the full horror of events and those few phone lines linking Liverpool and the North West with Sheffield, carrying the news that families and friends were desperate to hear. Lines that all too quickly were swamped with survivors making their calls to the desperately worried people back home.
It was a few hours later before I got the good news. I called my mate's neighbour to make sure I didn't tie up a precious phone line and found out they'd managed to get in touch. My friends had been incredibly lucky, the quick thinking of a fellow supporter had saved them and they were on their way back.
It was already clear that many wouldn't be getting that good news; but who could have predicted the awful aftermath and the shameful cover-up that denied the families and survivors the closure that was their right? I still had a lot of growing up to do but I don't think any of us even began to realise the full enormity of the impact of Hillsborough until many years after.
I've since met some of the remarkable people that have fought the lies and the cover-ups, seen how ordinary people can do quite extraordinary things. I wish their actions hadn't of been necessary but out of the immense wrong that was that day, their determination and courage remains undiminished and a source of inspiration.
Today when I think of Hillsborough I think of those long, awful hours of uncertainty, the sense of relief, and of those who never got the good news. I think of that world of phone boxes, crossed lines, closed minds and closing times. It seems a long time ago, but somehow the rawness hasn't faded. I'll meet one of those friends later today and go with him to the game but we won't discuss that day.
87. Grant Booth, Supporter
To me Hillsborough is the reason I support this great football club. I am 17 and have been a Liverpool supporter since a day before my 6th Birthday (15th April 1999). I remember I was running around the front room being annoying as you are at that age when my dad shouted at me to be quiet, he was fixated on the TV.
It was Anfield during the remembrance service while a rendition of 'You'll Never Walk Alone' was being sang. We just sat in silence. After I turned to my dad and asked why all those people were there when there was no football game on and so my dad explained to me about the 15th April 1989. Even though I was at a very young age, I understood what my dad was telling me and since that day I've felt an instant affection for the club and for the 96.
Being from Sheffield myself, my Dad took me to Hillsborough when I was 11 to watch the derby and I just remember the hairs on the back of my neck raise on end for the whole time we were there. As I got older and started to fully understand the accusations that had been made about our beloved club, I fully understood how important and just how much we deserve justice for the 96. Also just how important it is for fans like myself, the next generation you could say, to never ever give up the fight for justice and more importantly never forget the 96.
88. Christopher Whittle, Supporter
It means absolutely everything to me. It is my life, and it has controlled my life since the 15th of April 1989. I was in Pen 3 of Leppings Lane, caught up in the horrific crush. I suffered cracked ribs, a bruised chest and back, and breathlessness. I also fell to the floor, but luckily for me a fellow Red, pulled me up. I had never seen him before or since, I have always wondered if he made it out of there, the killing fields of Hillsborough. Another fate befell me that day, from those moments as I battled for life. It was the start of my battle with PTSD - or Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, the terrible psychological condition which has affected my life for 22 years. As I wandered like a zombie on that pitch, shaking violently like an autumn leaf in a storm, unable to speak, my live was changed forever.
I know a part of me died that day, I became a different person. The nightmares, the flashbacks, the panic attacks, low self esteem, intense anxiety and paranoia. My love of football started to diminish, although I kept my season ticket for another couple of years. I stopped going to Anfield in 1991, and apart from the odd game, up until 1999. I managed to cope with football up until 2001. My battle with PTSD was ongoing and I suffered another setback, which meant I stopped going to games from 2001 up to 2010, towards the end of last season. As I write this, I can just about cope, but that is through help from various people, fellow survivors such as John Herbert and Dean Harris, and Anne Williams, who lost her son, Kevin, at Hillsborough, and who wrote that wonderful book 'When you Walk Through The Storm'. Talking with these people is the best counseling and the best therapy that you can receive. I now work for Anne's campaign/support group HOPE FOR HILLSBOROUGH. I did a sponsored swim last September where I raised £300 to help with court costs in future legal proceedings. I also accompanied Anne to London to confront the Secretary of State for Culture, Media & Sport, Mr. Jeremy Hunt MP, about his disgraceful slur regarding Hillsborough last summer. In June, I am holding a fundraiser for my 50th birthday, to raise funds for HOPE FOR HILLSBOROUGH. I have come on leaps and bounds as regards PTSD during the past year, and it's all down to not facing my problems alone, and being around these wonderful people and the LFC Family. For so many years, I bottled it all up about Hillsborough, pushed it away, was in self denial. The worst thing that I could have done.
I am now writing a book about my own personal experiences of Hillsborough, the disaster itself, the legal battles, the cover ups and the lies, my life since and my battle with PTSD - let us hope that I find a publisher! I also like to write poetry. I would like to conclude with this short poem:
NO WORDS
No words, however few
Can express the hell of that April afternoon
Lives lost, spirits broken, hearts torn to shreds
96 dead, that was the carnage of Leppings Lane
Can anyone outside our LFC Family really understand our pain?
They lied, they hid the facts, they covered up
Those South Yorkshire boys in blue
Just to save face, to protect, and pass the blame
That's it - we'll blame the fans, it's the easy way out
We'll make up stories - no tickets they had, the violent, drunken louts
These callous lies and vile myths, what can be said?
NO WORDS can possibly explain the hurt, the anger, the frustration it caused
22 years of injustice and lies
Hide the facts, no truths exposed
A lot of people were in on the act
To screw the 96, the families, and those that lived
Those names they just roll off the tongue
Margaret Thatcher, Bernard Ingham and Douglas Hurd
Not forgetting Wright, Murray and Duckenfield of course
The South Yorkshire liars who have no shame
The coroner Popper, in with the West Midlands lot
No thought, no care, just get the job done
Not forgetting Mackenzie of course, those vicious lies in that gutter rag
All of this goes to prove what we knew
But NO WORDS can explain how we got screwed
All we ask for is JUSTICE be given
It's our right, it's the truth
We all know that
Will it ever come our way?
We just have to hope and continue to pray
JUSTICE FOR THE 96 is the cry each year
But NO WORDS can express our pain, our fear
89. Steve Hothersall, Radio City
I wasn't at Hillsborough; I was a teenager at the time living away from Liverpool, watching the scenes unfold on the TV. It would be easy to say that in the weeks and months that followed the tragedy, I understood, or even appreciated the nature of the injustices that happened that terrible day - but the fact is that I didn't.
Ten years later I started working as a journalist at Radio City 96.7, and one of my first jobs was covering the Hillsborough Memorial Service at Anfield - it was a truly humbling experience. In the days preceding it I interviewed mums and dads who had lost loved ones at the FA Cup semi final. I'm not sure what I expected - but what I found was families who spoke with dignity and strength, sometimes fighting back the tears to tell their story, but all exuded pride in their loved ones, and in their city. Each had a different story, but all had a common grief.
For the last decade I have interviewed these people on a regular basis - Phil Hammond, Trevor Hicks, Margaret Aspinall to name but a few. I never take this for granted. They continually educate me about the injustices of what happened at Hillsborough. I feel it is my responsibility to share this knowledge with our audience, not only with those who lived through the tragedy, but also a new generation.
It may be 22 years since 96 football fans lost their lives, but this anniversary is as important as the first.
90. Stephen Medlicott, Supporter
Today I'll shed a tear for the injusticeness called life
And for the guilty feelings that I returned to see my wife
For the 96 victims, you're held deep inside my heart
You'll never walk alone, we'll never be apart
But we need to remind the people of the disaster on that day
Unless you believe the papers, in which case I have nothing more to say
We were stripped of our own dignity and questioned as a man
As the rest of nation read, he's just a Liverpool fan
Well, let me tell you something, from someone who was there
As they had driven in the final nail, and no one seemed to care
We were left to defend our lives, by helping one another
Solid like a family, like a sister and a brother
I have never been a soldier or sent into a battle
The only weapons we had that day, were a hat or scarf or rattle
The enemy on that day, were dressed up all in blue
With the incompetence of leaders , who just didn't have a clue
To the police, FA and media and all the powers to be
You created pain and torture and put the blame on me
THE TRUTH in big bold letters , a blatant damning lie
Please can anyone tell me, why our people had to die
Some people will never understand, the quest for the untold truth
The need and desire for JUSTICE , for every man ,woman and youth
You labeled us as animals and football hooligans too
But now you've read my story, tell me who's been kidding who?
91. Stephen Davies, Supporter
A lot of emotions well up when I'm asked the question, 'What does Hillsborough mean to you?'
There's the anger so many of us share at the institutional neglect which had been allowed to build up over decades, resulting in stadium conditions which were unsafe for crowds half the capacity. The same anger directed at the authorities on the day, compounding the unsafe conditions with what should have been deemed criminal neglect as they watched their laissez faire attitude to safety tragically unfold in front of them.
There's also hurt at the scandalous lies told in the wake of the disaster by the likes of The Sun as they rushed to cover up the real reasons for Hillsborough and then refused to apologise in the wake of all evidence to the contrary. That hurt remains to this day as Kelvin MacKenzie remains smugly indignant to the suffering of the families and friends of those who died.
In my own case there's a mixture of relief and guilt. The blessed relief comes from knowing a last minute decision meant I missed a game I was due to attend so was spared the horrific conditions and scenes others were forced to endure. The strange sense of guilt arises from knowing the two friends I regularly attended away games with did travel and stood at the Leppings Lane end. Both survived, one dragged onto the top tier, the other over the front fence but both remain scarred with the experiences of the day. But above all this there's something you might not expect.
Pride.
I have pride in the fans on the day that fought so fiercely to try and save the lives of their fellow supporters. Pride in the dignity of the families in the aftermath of the disaster, and the way they have carried themselves in the 22 years since. Pride in the likes of Steve Kelly of Through the Wind and the Rain, whose writing in the years following the disaster was so crucial in focusing on who was responsible for what happened. There's pride in the author Alan Edge who harried any politician or journalist who dared to casually cast aspersions at our fans and city.
Then there's the pride I have in the forensic work of Professor Phil Scraton, whose academic analysis of the causes of the disaster have contributed to both improvement in crowd safety and the growing acceptance of the real Truth. Pride in the work of Jimmy McGovern whose 1996 dramatised reconstruction of the events of the disaster did so much to change the nation's opinion of the events of the day.
But mostly there's pride for the HFSG, the HJC and all those who fight for Justice to this day. You deserve all our support and respect.
92. Matthew Cain, Supporter
Hillsborough, for me, is a story of contradictions.
Hillsborough: a single word. The most passionate of responses.
The cosy reality of a matchday routine. The cold chill remembering those who walked before me.
The optimism of youth. The wrenching tragedy of so many young shattered lives.
The simple reality of disaster. The inconceivable complexity of losing a loved-one.
Intimate, private grief. The most cruel of public tragedies.
The dignity of the families. The shame of so many who should have known better.
A communal act of remembrance. The personal need to not dramatise death.
The burning desire for justice. The aching need for resolution.
Extraordinary efforts to confront the lies. The timidity of those incapable of searching the truth.
My admiration for the families. My shame at the authorities.
My welling of pride as the Kop articulates that chants for Justice. My disgust that they have to - 20 years on.
My pride at the club's annual remembrance. A dark cloud, cruelly mocking the absence of silver lining.
You'll Never Walk Alone; a passing aphorism. A lifetime of meaning.
93. Jeff Gammon, Supporter
To me April 15th brings both great sadness and joy. The 15th April 89 will live with me forever. As a lifelong Liverpool fan I was 15 watching the horror unfold with tears in my eyes. As the years passed, every anniversary I thought about the tragic losses and of all those people whose lives would never be the same again. Then on the 15th April 2006 my wife gave birth to beautiful twin boys which have made this date even more important to me as the LFC family grew by another two, hence the great sadness and joy of this date. Never wilt in the fight for justice for the 96. YNWA
94. Karen D'Arcy, Supporter
Hillsborough to me means loss, devastation, injustice... the word alone brings back haunting memories of that fateful day, of the lies that were told and believed by many. Yet it is not just negative things that come to mind. Hillsborough also means support, commitment, pride and an unyielding bond between a community that will never give up on their fallen comrades, never! I'm proud to say that I am a Liverpool fan and Scouser, and I am proud to know what our fans did for each other that day. For me, it was those who pulled people to safety, who ripped apart the hoardings to make stretchers, who carried the injured to safety and treated people they'd never met in an attempt to save them... it was those people who were the heroes that day. Their bravery is inspiring and I have nothing but respect for them and pride to know that they belong to our club. So Hillsborough, in a single word for me, is a bond.
RIP 96 - You'll never walk alone
95. Alf, Supporter
The darkest day in the History of Liverpool Football Club.
96. John Scully, Supporter
Hillsborough encompasses almost all emotions. Here is a short poem I have written displaying my anguish over aspects of the disaster.
Sarah
I did not know her
Yet she almost makes me cry
She lay in a makeshift morgue
When it should have been a hospital ward
So there was no nurse to offer her care
No family present to stroke her hair
No flowers, no grapes, no Lucozade
No one to comfort if she was afraid
No one to comfort if she was afraid
I wonder if her consciousness strayed
And just for a second a word she'd eek
A peer from an eye - a finger tweak
But no one was there
No one was there
No one - but ONE - perhaps we don't understand
Perhaps there was ONE who held Her hand
Who closed her eye - and heard that sigh
Then lifted her soul - up upon HIGH
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