Glenbuck thanks for showing true courage to write that. I struggle to talk about it, and often just sit alone with my head battered with images that I will never talk about and that I will take to the grave with me.
I will try and give my account of that awful day, and the things that I encountered.
The season before, 1988 Liverpool played Nott's Forest in a FA Cup semi final at Hillsborough.
I managed to get a ticket, and this was to be my first FA Cup semi final.
The date was 9th April 1988 and I had a ticket for the Leppings Lane Terrace, price ÂŁ5.
To be quite honest, I don't remember much about that match now, as future events have erased it.
Next season and Liverpool again reach another semi final, again against Forest, and again at Hillsborough.
Excitement is all around as I pick my ticket up from Anfield, and drive home in the knowledge of another special day is in store for me. How wrong was I.
Again my ticket was for the Leppings Lane Terrace, this time priced ÂŁ6.
The day of the match, and the transit van pulls up at my mum & dads house.
There was to be around 8 of us going, 6 had seats in the ground, 2 of us standing.
The horn blasts out, I reach for my jacket, and something that I fully regret now, I just shouted to my mum upstairs that I was going. I say regret, because that could of been my mothers last memory of me, me just shouting 'see you', and heading off to football. I suppose on a special way, she would say that was me all over, but looking back, it really upsets me.
We set off in the van, and drive to Sheffield.
We park up, and walk off to have a few drinks. I remember the previous year, the police wanted us to go into the ground early, virtually rounding us all up and getting us to the turnstyles.
Not this time, we walked passed the fatefull entrance and went to a pub not far down the road.
I left the pub early, as I wanted to meet up with a lad I knew from Blackpool. He also was in the standing section, so at least I would be with someone I knew.
I walked down and saw his mate. He was trying to get me to swap my Leppings Lane ticket for his seating ticket. He even offered a straight swap, but I was adamant, I enjoyed the atmosphere in last years match, and so I was to be in there again this year.
I now look back on this and think that I could of avoided the horrible experience of being in the heart of it all, and to of been safe in the seats, but I also think what could of happened to this lad. Maybe if I did swap tickets - would he still be here today ?
I went through the turnstyles and headed off to the stand. I remember walking through the big entrance leading to the middle of the terrace and looking for Roy. I walked down and went into the left terrace facing the pitch. There was not too many supporters in yet, and I could not see Roy.
I decided then to go out of this area and go into the right terrace to look for him. Probably the worse move I have ever made.
I walked down to the front and met up with Roy. We were both excited about what was to happen in the match and lent on a barrier very close to the front. Looking back, I realise that this was the barrier that collapsed during the crush, and this is something that really freaks me out. I cry so hard at times thinking what could of been, the thought of me leaving the house and shouting 'see you' to my mother, I cry at the thought of guilt, somebodies relative will of died from the action of me moving away from there. I know people say this and that to make you feel better, but words will never heal the truth or bring people back.
Around 2.40 it is getting and the terrace is filling up, and so we decide that it was getting dangerous to be lent on the barrier, so we move just to the left of it 2 steps down. We are now around 5/6 steps from the front of the terrace. I even remember the two lasses that were pictured on every newspaper the next day with their faces pressed against the metal fence, they were right in front of us, and we made a few quiet comments about them to each other. It's funny to think the things you remember.
Minute by minute, it was getting busier and busier. We couldn't believe how packed this terrace was.
As the teams came onto the pitch, I could not see them, I was struggling to even get onto my tip toes to see. We just simply could not move, and the pressure of people against me was starting to worry me.
The game kicked off, and now we were realising something terrible was happening. I remember a huge roar from the crowd (Beardsley apparently hitting the bar), and this brought a surge forward. I was now panicing. I simply could not move any part of my body now. I was stuck in a crowd, could not see the match and was beginning to feel very frightened.
People began shouting, then screaming to police who were patrolling the front of the terrace, but they just looked and ignored it. People were shouting, 'there's people dying in here, for fucks sake open the gate'.
More and more started to shout, and this is when you realise something is terrably wrong. The police just kept walking passed as if to ignore the shouts. After all, what could be so wrong in there ?
Soon, I began to feel people walking over the top of us. They were just walking over peoples heads and shoulders to reach the fence and climb out. Anger was now taking it's part, but I remember saying to someone, let them, it will create some more room in here.
The police were not letting them over the fence, telling them to climb down, but this was ignored by them and over people went, and I think this is when the police knew something was wrong.
I don't remember the match being stopped at the time, just someone telling me.
The crush was now even worse. I could only move my head, fingers and toes. My chest was feeling that it was going to implode at any time. I was now thinking was I to get out alive. Thoughts were going round my head, would I get out of here?, would I be the only one not to survive this. It's weird the thoughts that go around your head, but they were honestly the thoughts I was thinking at this time.
I remember the press getting in peoples way, taking the photo's that would be front page headlines all over the world. They were happily snapping away, whilst supporters were climbing the fence pitch side and trying to pull people out to safety.
I remember the ambulances driving up to the fence, and just thinking please God no, not me, please get me out.
A safety gate to the left of me was opened, and people spilled forward. Now the pressure on my body was unbearable. I could hardly breath. I tilted my head slightly back and began to try and gulp fresh air into my lungs. You have got to remember, it was a hot day, and being so packed in, it became very humid in there. Fresh air seemed like a premium to us. I was really struggling breathing now, I just remember thinking about my family, friends and this was not the place to go.
I let my body become relaxed, and looked to the sky. I am not religious, but I honestly believe somebody was looking down on me that day and heard my plea. I just said, 'Lord, please let whats going to happen, happen. But please make it quick.'
I had given up hope of getting out alive. I was frightened, trapped, in pain, could not breath properly and there didn't seem anyway out.
It was a strange choice of words - I know, but in times like this, you don't think properly.
If the crush got any worse, or if I was to stay there for much longer, then I honestly would not be here today.
Within a minute, of me pleading to the sky, free movement all around was felt. I could start to move my legs and arms, but not move myself anywhere.
It seemed that we were all moving as one. I was being moved to the right, then all of a sudden.... there was a gap on the right.
I remember looking down, and it did not register at first, but that is where the barrier had collapsed, and what I was looking at were not people just led down, but in fact supporters who had become victims of the collapsed barrier. (This is why I feel deep guilt)
I tried to push myself left and forward, I didn't want to be pushed further right, as I thought I would trip and fall and could be trampled on.
It's weird, as all that had happened before hand, I pushed forward and found myself at the front of the terrace.
There were free spaces all around ?? Why minute's earlier I was giving up hope and now I'm seconds of getting out alive ?
I remeber the police still shout 'move back, get back'
I just thought F**k this, I'm getting out. I started to climb the fence, but a police officer was virtually spitting his orders into my face to 'get down and move back'.
I began to climb down, and saw some awful sights all around me on the ground.
I must of gone white as a sheet, I knew I'd rather be arrested then stay in there. I began to climb again, and again the officer was screaming his orders at me. I looked into his eyes, and just said ' I can't'.
I carried on up, and the officer got help off another policman and helped me over the fence and onto the pitch.
'Just get away from here, go into the center of the pitch' he told me.
I was out. I was alive.
I tried to walk away from it all, I was in a complete different world to anything I had ever known. My head was spinning from what had happened, and I just collapsed near to the penalty spot.
I knew I was safe, I knew I was alive, but my body was telling me to take some time off.
Stewards and fans rushed towards me, all asking if I needed help. I said no, but people in that terrace do.
Not to my knowledge at the time, but a mate of mine in the stand saw me helped out of the terrace, and collapse on the pitch. He could not take any more and left to try and phone news home.
He tried to phone my parents, but my mums phoning the emergency help line to try and hear of any news. So he phones another mate to get news of me to them.
The news he gives them has been mixed up, now my parents believe I had collapsed and was dragged out of the terrace and was lying on the pitch - but he thinks I was still alive.
This hurt me so much. I can never blame anyone for this mix up, but I will never be able to contemplate what my mother went through. I'm so sorry mum. I am in tears typing this now - it hurts me that much.
After a few minutes, I began to regain some sences, and I need to find out if Roy got out. I get up and as I look around I see him.
I walk straight to him, he see's me.
His face is full of pain, full of tear's - 'did you see those dead bodies in there Tommo, did you see them ?, I had to climb over them to get out.' I will always remember those words.
I now realise that people have died in there, and what I saw was what I didn't want to believe was true.
I just exploded in tears. My life has been spared, but at what cost.
This day was changing my life, my outlook on life. I was 18 years old - thought I knew everything. Bollox.
I knew I had to find the lads who I came down with. I walked up and down the stand on the side of the pitch, in the hope they would see me. I was blanking out a lot of things that were happening all around. I was in no state to help anyone, and I could not go anywhere near the Leppings Lane Terrace.
I heard a mate shout my name, as I walked up towards the Forest end. It was my mate Paul.
He sat me down next to him, asking all the time if I was all right, and whats happening ?
All I could say, was 'supporters have died in there', I was inconsolable and could not stop crying.
I remember all around people were passing the message on to each other, that deaths had occured, and supporters all around me were now feeling the full effect of whats happened.
On getting back to the van, I was still with Paul and a few others were already back.
I could not speak to anyone, I was constantly crying, and didn't understand fully what I had been through.
The radio was switched on, to reveal the true horror of the day.
At first, I heard it say 28 people had lost there live's, that hurt me.
Then, worse news. It was now saying the death toll was up to 55 people.
I had lost the plot now. I was screaming out now in anger and in pain.
I left the van and walked to the back of it. I was just kicking it, punching it and even head butting it. I was at my lowest point of my life - it still is, and nothing/ nobody could help me.
A man from over the road came out to try and help, but I had gone. I could not talk to anybody.
He left message that his door was open, and if anything he could do to help - then please go over. Thank You mate - God bless you.
It was now 5pm, and I had just mananged my first few words without crying.
I knew I had to call home and speak to my family. People may not understand why I hadn't called earlier - but I honestly could not talk to anyone, and I had heard that my mate had left word with someone to pass on the message I was alive.
I needed to speak to them now, and was taken over to that blokes house.
We rang his bell, and he invited us in. He gave us his phone, and left us in peace to ring home.
Just to hear my mothers voice was something you cannot put into words. I assured her I was alright, and my dad was wanting to drive to Sheffield to pick me up.
I declined his offer, and they'd see me soon.
Even now, I cry about that day. It hurts so bad.
I think it is why I love the club so much. They are apart of me, and always will be.
I try and go to every memorial service, and tears still stream down my face at everyone I go to.
I will be there on Tuesday, and ask if you are able to attend, then please do.
Lets all remember the loved ones who never made it back.
RIP 96
God Bless You All
« Last Edit: Apr 12, 2008 01:42:51 pm by mrtommo »
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