“Aprilling” Hillsborough 35 years later. My survivor's guide.

It gradually creeps up. March happens and the feelings begin to envelop me. I named it “Aprilling” in a post the other day - I think that popped into my crazy mixed up head thanks to the wonderful Thea Gilmore and her song called “Vespering”. Music keeps me going at times, often! Anyway, I digress….

Thursday was a long day. Work is incessant in a very busy NHS department but also strangely therapeutic because of the challenges of life in general. You know you’ve done a shift let’s say, both in work and coping with the mayhem around daily life outside of it. Work life balance? Nah!

I knew I needed just to wind down after work and pre match, Sheffield United at Anfield - 3 points needed, but “those” feelings fill my head when I’m alone. I need that time alone though and I can cope, it helps me. By being alone I’m avoiding good friends who know how I feel, or even if they don’t, they generally know the score. I’m so appreciative of them and of that. 

But I need my alone time. We’re complicated. If I don’t understand me I don’t expect you to! So back to my thoughts and feelings - my “Aprilling” happens as the 15th approaches. It’s not on my mind 24 - 7 but it’s cunning, it sneaks up and transports me to a day that I will never forget and to a place that I wish I could forget. 

The thoughts aren’t necessarily the horrific scenes that I witnessed, was a part of and extremely “lucky” to climb to safety from. It might be challenging myself as to why I ended up standing in the betting shop at the end of Leppings Lane (I think) at some point; or why some people were taking the piss and making multiple calls when kind people had let us into their homes to phone home to say that we were safe; or how the hell did I manage to find my coach and that never ending journey home - mainly in silence but for the radio bringing news of the rising casualties. When I see the coach home all I can see are shocked ghostly faces on those filled with smiles and laughter on the way to the game in the morning. Everyone on my coach came home. 

I really can’t imagine how the relatives and friends of those lost and seriously injured must have felt travelling to Sheffield that evening. Heartbreaking. 

The reason for this post is not for me but for others out there struggling who may get similar feelings at this time, or anytime for that matter, as although for me it’s more intense right now it’s not exclusively April it’s anytime. 

Our much missed friend Dan Kay published a short blog of mine some years ago when I highlighted the absurd guilt felt by survivors that doesn’t go away. It’s absurd because why should you feel guilty for surviving attending a football match? You shouldn’t of course and you know that you shouldn’t! But it’s there, always.  Liverpool Echo

So the point of all this is if you experience similar feelings please know that you’re not alone and that there are people out there who are willing and able to help. Speak to friends, strangers, post on social media or check out the Hillsborough Survivors Support Alliance which is a group that can help with support  https://www.hsa-us.co.uk/ 

Oh, and in writing this I’ve uncovered the reason why I was in the betting shop! I had gone in there to get a pen and paper because amongst all of the turmoil I walked back up to the house I’d phoned home from to note the address. The next day I wrote to thank them. I can put that to bed now!

From the words of our anthem You’ll Never Walk Alone and you really don’t need to. 

YNWA JFT97 Justice for All. 

Anne

This Sunday at 9pm on ITV a four part factual drama begins simply called Anne. 

Please watch it.  I will be even though I expect it will be difficult viewing for some us.

Maxine Peake as Anne Williams

I’ve written before that Anne Williams, the subject of the programme, should not be known to most of us and I’m pretty sure that she’d have preferred it that way.  As things transpired, on a bright & cold spring morning in April 1989 her son Kevin, like myself and thousands of others, set off to watch a football match at Hillsborough. Sadly he didn’t come home as he was unlawfully killed that afternoon. 

What has followed since that day has been the weight of the establishment rewriting history and the facts versus THE TRUTH which is known to many of us as we were there. 

My match ticket and wristband

There have been many people battling for the truth since that day but the stand out campaigner for me was Anne Williams.  How she fought to find truth and justice for her son was beyond compare and although rightly holding a torch for her son she never forgot the other victims including those like me who somehow escaped the carnage.  Some survivors from the Leppings Lane pens suffered physical injuries while most live with the mental trauma and guilt of being there and somehow surviving the disaster, a disaster that they were wrongfully accused of causing. 

A memorial plaque, commissioned on behalf of Anne by her family, was unveiled in Liverpool’s Central Station as she always wanted to honour the survivors. It reads:-

"This is a tribute to our Hillsborough Survivors to recognize the effort they made to help save others, the suffering they have endured for many years and their courage in supporting the families in the fight for justice. On behalf of the families of lost loved ones, the people of this great city and the late Anne Williams. 

Thank you 

You will never be forgotten"

Mural by artist Paul Curtis

Anne Williams was an inspirational woman and it's fitting that the nation should learn about how she fought for justice despite the repeated set backs that would have weakened the resolve of most.  

The importance of this piece of work can't be underestimated and this amazing woman and all she stood for should be remembered by us all forever and passed down through the generations to prevent the likes of Hillsborough and its aftermath happening again. 

Anne Williams YNWA 

JUSTICE FOR THE 97

A Beautiful Night - Katherine Priddy at Leaf Liverpool

When you’re having a difficult time music can be a wonderful therapy.  Last night at Leaf in Liverpool the prescription was for a couple of hours with Katherine Priddy supported by George Boomsma. 

George opened the night and then accompanied Katherine for her set and what a set. Katherine sang a number of songs from her new album The Eternal Rocks Beneath as well as older songs and a brand new as yet unnamed track.  

I’ve been listening to the album since its release back in June and was anticipating a special night. It was better than that as Katherine performed to a packed but intimate house and mesmerised the audience who listened in adoring silence.

Wolf 

The performance, both vocally and musically, was stunning and will live long in my memory and the background to the writing of the tracks will make listening to the album a different experience in the future. 

Jim Croce sang a wonderful song called Time in a Bottle and if you could save a gig in a bottle this would be it and it would be a beautiful elixir, good for both the mind and the soul. 

Make sure you listen to Katherine Priddy and if you get the opportunity to get to see her live GO! 

In these Strangest of Times: Hillsborough 31 Years On - Always Remembered

Even in these strangest of times I don't have a need to remind myself to always remember; I can never forget that day.

Last year, for the 30th Anniversary, I had decided to make changes to how I remembered the day. I didn't want crowds, I just wanted those closest to me to know that I was safe and not spiralling into an abyss of darkness that had often happened on anniversaries in the past.

On 14th April I placed roses at the memorial in Old Haymarket and on the Anniversary we went to Pennington Flash to start the day in a tranquil place where my mind could reflect and remember the fans who didn't make it that day, despite our best efforts. 

Hillsborough Memorial - Old Haymarket

Later in the day we visited Hillsborough Oaks, a special place for me.  We wondered where the years had gone and thought about fellow survivors, supporters and family members who had passed away during the time since the tragedy.

Bullfinch at Pennington Flash

Robin at Pennington Flash 

Hillsborough Oaks

A sad day had worked out perfectly and my sanity remained intact for once.  ❤️💙

This year was going to be similar. But then this year turned out to be similar to nothing any of us has known.

I had booked a Bed and Breakfast in Windermere to stay over on the 14th waking up there on the Anniversary to find somewhere quiet and peaceful to have my thoughts and reflections.

Lake Windermere 

Lake Windermere from Orrest Head

The plan was to then visit the Memorial and Hillsborough Oaks when we returned that evening.

That of course has all changed now and I'll be here at home with my thoughts.

I have a beautiful rose, "Loving Memory", that will be my focus this year.

It was bought because a friend of friend wanted to do something for a survivor.  The rose is the result of this and is now in the garden as a permanent memorial. I am still truly blown away by that. ❤️

Loving Memory 

It is planted in a pot surrounded by red tulips that I am hoping will be in bloom on the day - the rose will follow later on.

In these difficult times I hope that everyone affected by Hillsborough stays safe and can find their own special way to remember our friends this year, the 31st Anniversary of the tragedy. 

One thing is for sure, we will never forget!

Justice for the 96.  Justice for all.

You’ll Never Walk Alone 

Thirty Years

Thirty years has passed. Thirty years in my life that has seen numerous jobs, two stints at university, we said goodbye to my Dad, had two beautiful daughters to make a total of four beautiful girls in mine and Karen’s life. We’ve had weddings and grandchildren and more ups and downs than the Big One in Blackpool.

All in all a normal thirty years that many people could write about. Then there’s the but….

But on the 15th April 1989 I was in pen 3 of the Leppings Lane end at Hillsborough. Thirty years ago. Thirty years! Amidst all the normality has been the torment, the questions, the anger, the sadness, the confusion, the optimism, the disappointment, the guilt and the helplessness. It’s usually kept hidden in my head, just like the images I carry with me everyday.

I’m fortunate that I’m surrounded by good and caring people and have made some enduring friendships along the way. So on this day, thirty years on, I’ll remember the 96 who didn’t come home, my thoughts are with their families. I’m also here for the ones who like me made it back, some scarred both physically and mentally from the scene that we escaped.

Justice for the 96 - Justice for ALL

Hillsborough 29 Years on - Lost in a Void

My “memories” brought to the fore on Facebook at this time of year are filled with Hillsborough as you may expect. I have been on Facebook for 10 years now but my Hillsborough memories are stretching back an unbelievable 29 years.  That, as it happens, is half of my lifetime as I’m 58 in a week or so. 

Many of these memories are like nightmares that repeat randomly, vividly and sometimes unexpectedly. 

Since the verdicts of the new inquests and the impending trials I feel like I’m in some sort of void, a vacuum. With the 29th Anniversary of the disaster just a day away I really can’t say how I’ll feel tomorrow. 

The exploits of Liverpool FC have provided a welcome distraction this week but my memories of that day have been there in the background dipping in and out of my consciousness. 

On Sunday I plan to visit Hillsborough Oaks and then move onto the Memorial in Old Haymarket, St John’s Gardens.  I will remember those lost that day and will also be thinking of fellow survivors who like me find this time of year so difficult. 

I’m very grateful for the friendships that have developed over the years and for the support that has come with those friendships.  Together we have fought a long battle with some notable successes but ultimately there are no winners here, history dictates that. 

29 Years. Never Forgotten. Justice for the 96. Justice for all. 

Those Two Weeks. A Review. Sort of!

Those two weeks were something that hadn’t crossed my mind. Those two weeks were before this chapter began. I can remember significant things from before those two weeks; weddings, births, deaths, holidays, jobs and going to see Liverpool in the 60s getting into the Anny Road end at “three quarter time” with my dad watching Hunt, St John, Yeats and Peter Thompson flying down wing. Stuff like that.

Sir Roger Hunt

Ron "The Colossus" Yeats

But the Saturday that ended those two weeks tore up the script and a new direction was taken. It was darker, moody, but fine on the outside. Mostly.

I went to the Unity Theatre on Thursday evening with my grandson Tom. I’d promised him a pizza in Ma Egerton’s and we took the opportunity to go to watch what turned out to be a wonderful production by Ian Salmon called “Those Two Weeks”.

Pizza Time in Ma's

It was a play based in a 1980s house, set just in the living room, about a family, the Miller’s living a normal life. Normal in the sense of how relationships pan out each and everyday, what can go wrong, how brothers and sisters live together as they’re growing through their formative years; how mum and dad just carry on whilst in the background there are things like a ticking time bomb that occasionally raise their head and an argument explodes. Stuff happens then you get over it and move on. It was a house in Liverpool so there was going to be a Red & Blue element to it and of course there’d be salad! Sunday evening in our house mostly.

Those Two Weeks

I found the play riveting. I had warned Tom, my grandson, that I may get emotional - I did. I laughed, I was in awe of some excellent performances, I cried. He’s 16 and he he held my hand, he hugged me, he was there for me like my family and friends have been for the last 29 years.

The play made me think, I’m still thinking and that’s why I’m writing this. It’s my way of dealing with my thoughts and it’s good that I can do this. It’s therapeutic.

I’ve tried to recall what I did in those two weeks. I can’t. But I probably watched it here on Thursday. I had my ticket so no worries there. I must have sorted the transport out with John, the manager of Tommy Hall's in Prescot. I’ll have gone to the match, had pint on the way home from the training I was doing at the time. I’d have been at home and played records, vinyl of course. I probably made some compilations on C90 tapes bought from Woolies. We’d have had salad for tea on the Sunday. I’d have decided what I would be wearing to go to the semi final. I’d have been buzzing.

I wore one of these!

Those Two Weeks has finished its short run at the Unity Theatre. I hope it is back soon because more people need the experience. It totally blew me away.