Standing Proud In Resilient Red

On this day in 1996, around 9.20 in the morning, a 3,330 lbs device was detonated in the heart of Manchester, the biggest bomb explosion in Britain since the Second World War.

While it devastated the city centre and injured 200, with an estimated 75,000 people present at the time it was both incredible and a miracle that nobody was killed. That was down to the bravery and rapid response of the emergency services, shop management teams and security guards who, acting on a coded warning from the IRA, had just an hour to evacuate everyone while stopping all transport heading into the city.

The last shoppers and staff were still running for their lives when the bomb went off.

I was working that morning on the outskirts of the centre, and in those days before mobile phones or internet, had no idea of the drama unfolding. I remember hearing the explosion and all conversation suddenly ceasing as we all looked at each other before heading to the windows to see the pall of smoke rising above the familiar landscape. Everyone of us knew people working in or visiting our city centre that morning, and in our silence were turning unspeakable fears around in our heads.

It wasn’t the first time, and God knows we now know it wasn’t to be the last, that our home city would suffer this way. But it could have been worse, much worse, the death toll could have been horrific.

And Manchester did what Manchester always does-it came back. It rebuilt. It regenerated.

Despite all of that devastation, the Phoenix of the modern Manchester that we know today arose from the ashes of that morning.

And, as a reminder to me whenever I see it, nothing stands more as a symbol of Mancunian strength, of Mancunian resilience, than that surviving red post box that can still be seen there today.

22 ❤️

Manchester Silence, 10.31pm.

(Exactly one week on.)

Silence is not merely an absence of sound;

Silence is powerful;

Silence can fill a space

and echo within the heart.

Manchester, Eleven O’Clock

It was announced that today the country would observe a minute’s silence to honour those killed on Monday. Where else could I go to honour this but Manchester? Despite the unprecedented step of the army being deployed to assist the police throughout the country and the government warning that another attack was imminent, avoiding this crowd was never an option.

My fellow Mancunians came good again: what a fitting and emotional morning it was. There were tears amongst the defiance, balloons filling the clear blue skies. And the fantastic moment when the crowd burst into a spontaneous rendition of Don’t Look Back In Anger by Manchester band Oasis, followed by thunderous self-congratulatory applause.

How ironic that an action designed to cause division has created a unity I have never witnessed before.

Here are some photographs of the day.

Here you can see a tribute from the Mayor of Salford, the city divided from Manchester by a river.

In the background you can see St.Ann’s church.

Everywhere there was balloons, for the children who were killed or badly injured.

Teddy Bears too.

Here is an artistic likeness of the Manchester Bee. A symbol of Manchester, the worker bee represents the city’s industrial past. Thousands of people are now having this tattooed onto their skin, proceeds going to the fund set up for the victims.

There are now even more flowers here, people were still queuing to lay bouquets long after I left.

The poster ‘Arianna we love you’ is to the distraught singer whose concert was targeted by the terrorist.

The square beginning to fill behind me.

Flowers being prepared to be laid-a bunch for each of the twenty two dead.

Afterwards I saw this-free coffee for members of the emergency services.

I’m not sure if the heavy presence of armed officers reassured or made me more nervous. Spotted these passing from a pizza place.

Adding to the emotion of the day: while gathered in the square, I received a message from a former student of ours, telling us that his family were standing with us in support, and here in Germany his family were flying at half mast a British flag in solidarity for his former adopted city.

Today Has Been A Difficult Day

Today has been a difficult day.

-The girls from my daughter’s class crying this morning in the playground in fear for a classmate who attended the concert. (She did not come into school but she was safe.)

-The tales related personally to us by people who were there, as well as someone who treated the injured in hospital.

-The people still on edge in Manchester:the shopping centre evacuated; people fleeing along the high street in panic; rumours spreading, men arrested.

-The distraught woman begging on television for news of her (still) missing daughter.

-The story of the homeless man, normally passed by and ignored on the street, who ran to help the injured, cradling a dying woman in his arms, comforting a young girl who had lost her legs, pulling nails from the faces of children.

-The victims beginning to be named, the ages, the photographs.

-The kids.

-And then:

People gathering together in their thousands in the city centre in a show of defiance and unity. And on the estate where I live, we joined together in a local chapel, finding solace and comfort in community.

We will see what tomorrow brings.