The Manchester Twenty Two - Five Years On
This is the place.
In the north-west of England it’s ace, it’s the best
And the songs that we sing from the stands, from our bands,
Set the whole planet shaking.
Our inventions are legends. There’s nowt we can’t make and so we make brilliant music,
We make brilliant bands
We make goals that make souls leap from seats in the stands
And we make things from steel
We make things from cotton
We make people laugh, take the mick sommat rotten,
And we make you at home
And we make you feel welcome and we make summat happen
We can’t seem to help it
This is the Place - Tony Walsh
This is a repost but I make no apology. 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, this Sunday marks the fifth anniversary of that darkest of days.
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 eleven 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 will be forever 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 downstairs and put on the TV, within 10 minutes I was in tears.
I then started to phone around, my aunt was in bits, as was I when I found out my cousin's daughter was at the concert! My cousin, who I will refer to as Ann-Marie, had dropped her sixteen-year old daughter who I will refer to as Claire, at the concert with two friends earlier that evening, nobody had heard from any of them, it was going to be a long night.
This is how their night unfurled. I will skip the preamble, suffice to say Claire 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, we’ll meet you at the back of the Arena and we’ll be in the carpark at the back”. That simple instruction went a long way to ensuring she made it out alive and uninjured.
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 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, realised 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 a miracle, 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, (he would never describe himself as such), 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 Mancunians 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 NOW go in any direction but go NOW, there was to be no waiting for her husband as the area was still unsecured. She did as she was told and drove in tears to a pub carpark a little further away where she phoned Gary, he finally picked up. 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. one of the girls had lost her phone, the other's had run out of charge whilst she was trying to contact her parents. My cousin lives in a small suburban town on the outskirts of Manchester – by magical, wonderful coincidence these young girls lived no more than five miles away. First things first, Garry calls one of the parents who are at this point beyond frantic with worry, Garry, the tough to the core, ex-squaddie admits that hearing the howl on the other end of the line was the first time that night he lost it as tears ran down his cheeks.
Gary passed the phone onto the girls who confirmed they were safe and well and on their way home with their knight in shinning armor! To this day, the five girls are firm friends, even finding the courage to attend the One Love Manchester concert together. And five people in one relatively small car, I don't think the police would have taken a second look that night!
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 – Stay strong Manchester, we will remember your dead!
