Remembering the Manchester 22

For Manchester is the place where people do things… ‘Don’t talk about what you are going to do, do it.’ That is the Manchester habit. And in the past through the manifestation of this quality the word Manchester became a synonym for energy and freedom and the right to do and to think without shackles.

Judge Parry

This week the people of Manchester remembered the twenty-two innocent souls whose lives were snuffed out in a senseless act perpetrated by a sick, misguided, callous scumbag.

It was 10:31pm on the 22nd of May 2017, parents and grandparents were waiting in the foyer of the Manchester Arena waiting for their children to exit the auditorium having just watched an Ariana Grande concert.

In a moment of cowardice there was a blinding flash, an ear-splitting bang and twenty-two lives were extinguished.

When I was five years old, my parents decided we could live a better life by moving from Ireland to the UK. Like most large Irish families at that time, members had already started to migrate to the corners of the globe and other family members followed on. My aunts and uncles had decided Manchester was the place to be and so we followed on. So, I suppose what one would consider my formative years were spent in and around this iconic city – We’ll talk about why it’s an icon another time, for now this is background, most of my close family still live in and around Manchester. The evening of the 22nd of May 2017 touched the lives of almost everyone in and around the city, stories abound of people that were there, relatives and friends who know one of the hundreds injured, some physically scarred, some mentally.

This is my story, my tribute to three people that are close to me.

At around 11pm on the evening of the attack my phone began to light up, half asleep as I’d just finished a long shift I casually picked it up, read the text and was immediately awake – “Just seen what’s happened in Manchester, is everyone okay?” – What??

I dashed down stairs and put on the TV, within 10 minutes I was in tears.

I then started to phone around, quickly I realised my cousin, who I will refer to as Ann-Marie’s sixteen-year old daughter who I will refer to as Claire, was at the concert with two friends. This is how their night unfurled. I will skip the preamble, suffice to say she and her friends were beside themselves with excitement for at least a month before the concert!

Claire had been given specific instructions, familiar instructions as she’s a regular concert goer! “Wait until the crowds subside, come out the entrance, turn right at the corner, then right again and we’ll meet you at the back of the Arena and we’ll pick up the car from the carpark at the back”. That simple instruction went a long way to ensuring she made it out uninjured and alive.

Ann-Marie was at the back of the arena, stood with several other parents and relatives waiting for their nearest an dearest to depart the concert, her husband, who I will refer to as Gary, waited in the car.

Boom!

The group of parents and relatives including Ann-Marie instinctively ducked, then stood looking at each other bemused. “what the hell was that?!?” turned quickly to; “Oh My God, it sounded like a bomb going off!!”.

By this time Gary had leapt from the car and was running through the carpark. An ex-soldier he knew in an instant what had happened. He was by her side within seconds of the blast.

“Get across the road, get down, wait there, if you see anyone with a gun, run and don’t stop running. I’m going around the front, I’m going to get her out, phone her, keep calling, if Claire finds you first call me immediately!”

Consumed by abject panic and fear my Ann-Marie shuffled over the road and clung to the railings surrounding the car park, Gary was now sprinting towards danger with a single thought in his mind.

Inside the arena, thousands of people, mostly girls between the ages of twelve and twenty in mass panic, girls leaping over barriers, climbing over one another, trampling over each other, screams, tears, running, shouting, phones being knocked out of people’s hands…… including Claire’s phone.

Claire is a mature, sensible sixteen-year old and I’m very proud of her. She took the initiative amongst her friends and whilst frightened to the core herself had the presence of mind to step back from the hysteria, realise everyone was running for the main entrance and looked around for an emergency entrance. She guided her friends down to the ground floor, spotted an exit sign and ran against the crowds towards the green light.

Ann-Marie was now frantically dialling and redialling Claire’s number, each time the call going to voice mail. As she was about to dial for what felt like the thousandth time she looked up to see the emergency exit directly opposite her open and people running screaming into the night air.

Claire emerged along with her friends in what Ann-Marie describes as few seconds, at first, she just looked like another teenager in a powder pink “Dangerous Woman” tour T-Shirt but as they instinctively moved toward each other the relief of recognition swept over them and the four embraced in sobs, shivering with a mixture of fear and elation. The luck of the Irish was certainly with them that night, and it wasn’t the last time lady luck would smile. Ann-Marie, now fearful for Gary quickly dialled him, clearly the network had gone crazy and she couldn’t get a signal, eventually she got through and shared the good fortune.

Gary hasn’t spoken much about what happened and what he saw that night however, from what I know he was a real hero and I use the word in it’s truest, meaningful sense, I know that night he helped to save lives! He knew he was in danger, there were rumours of men with guns and other explosives however, with no thought to his personal safety, he along with several other members of the general public put themselves in harms way to help their fellow humans stricken by fear and injury in the foyer of the arena.

To this day apart from a few snippets, Gary will not tell us what he saw or what he really did – he dismisses it but, quantifies it as the worst carnage he’d ever seen, this is a guy that has two tours of Afghanistan under his belt!

The police had arrived at the back of the arena and had started moving people away, Ann-Marie told a police officer they had a car in the carpark but were waiting for her husband, the police officer told her to get in the car and drive away as soon as possible, she could not wait for her husband as they had not secured the area. She did as she was told and drove in tears to a pub carpark a little further away where she phoned Gary. Having been evacuated from the building he suggested he was on is way.

Around twenty minutes later Gary walked into the pub carpark holding the hands of two young girls in matching “Dangerous Woman” T-Shirts – this was the second time the luck of the Irish came into play for them that night.

As Gary had been leaving the area he came across two young girls, we now know were seventeen and eighteen, huddled together sobbing uncontrollably. He walked over to them and offered to help in anyway he could. It turned out that the girls had managed to get out through one of the emergency exits and had made their way to safety. They were supposed to be picked up by a taxi that had been pre-ordered but it hadn’t turned up. It transpired that one had lost her phone and her friend’s phone had run out of charge. My cousin lives in a small suburban town on the outskirts of Manchester – by utter beautiful coincidence these young girls lived in the next town, no more than two or three miles away so, of course Gary had told them he would take them home.

The priority at this point was to let the families of the two girls know they were safe and on their way home. The mother of the youngest told Ann-Marie subsequently she was about to go to bed but had an over whelming feeling of dread. She turned on the news channel and saw the horror unfolding. Immediately she called her husband before calling her daughter – after several desperate attempts it was clear she was not going to pick up, they then phoned the friends parents to ask for news. The second couple had gone to bed and were subsequently awoken by the call, shocked and frightened the second couple went to be with the first leaving their son to man the phone. The two fathers then making the decision to drive into Manchester

As Ann-Marie’s phone connected she put the phone on speaker. The tears of joy and relief were plentiful and the reunion almost a neighbourhood event as news had travelled.

There’s more to tell however, at this point you’ve indulged me enough and I thank you for getting this far. To Ann-Marie, Gary and Claire – your courage, compassion, composure and belief are an inspiration, I know you’re all suffering still but you remain strong and have each other and the rest of the family to support you in any way we can.

No fashion this week, just a simple remembrance for the diseased and a tribute to the resilience of the people of Manchester – love you all!