At about 9.15 this morning the telephone rang. It was the Stepdaughter who said that she had managed to get to work but that something major had clearly happened at Liverpool Street Station, although she did not know what. The Husband and I turned on Sky News and sat transfixed for most of the day. Very little news at first but as time went by it became clear that it was bomb explosions. Exactly what had happened slowly filtered through. At the time of writing there are 37 dead and hundreds injured, some of whom are very seriously hurt. As the day wore on exactly it also became clear that there was no Underground service at all, no buses in Zone 1 and all the main line stations closed. So we began to be worried exactly how people would be able to get home: millions commute to London for work every day. About 3.00 the Stepdaughter rang to say that her office had turned everyone out at about 11.00 this morning (as it is an insurance company situated close to both Lloyds of London and the Gherkin it could be a real target for terrorists) and she was having real difficulty getting home. She had managed to get the last train out of Fenchurch Street to Barking but had no way of getting from there to home. We told her to get a taxi to Gants Hill and we drove up the A12 and managed to pick her up and bring her home.
For us this might be described as a minor thing, we were not immediately affected at all and just watching everything on TV. Nevertheless I found the whole thing very disquieting. I recognised every scene of devastation shown on television as they all took place in parts of London I knew very well indeed. Then there was the fact that until I took early retirement last September I travelled on one of the tube trains out of Liverpool St station that was bombed today. Also Thursday of next week I have to go up to London (a hospital appointment followed by a visit to an exhibition at the Royal Academy of Arts) and will probably be getting that tube train.
The worse thing, however, is how it took me back to London 30 years ago when the IRA was doing its best to bomb parts of England and its people and to disrupt everything. I can well remember all the train and tube journeys which were severely disrupted – there was one tube journey when we were turfed off into a part of London I didn’t know at all and I found myself walking down deserted streets desperately trying to find a landmark I recognised while aware that I may be walking into real danger. I’ve never forgotten what that felt like, nor will the many, many people who have been doing the same today, desperately trying to find shelter or the way home. I also learnt then an unconscious skill that has never yet left me, to look out for potential hazards that may be bombs – even today if I see an unattended package a thought comes to mind that it could be dangerous. Many people were killed by the IRA then and even more injured or otherwise affected. One woman who used to work for me was in Victoria Railway Station when the IRA bomb went off there. She wasn’t physically injured but was never ever the same either emotionally or mentally – just a middle aged clerical worker who was in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Still, we will get over this and get on with life. Anything less would be to give into the terrorists.
2 comments:
And before the actions of the IRA came the action of the Germans who terrorized all of London with their buzz bombs. (I remember having nightmares in which I heard bombs falling, and I was "over here", far from London.)
How senseless are all such strikes by supposedly human beings against other human beings.
Cop Car
Yes, I agree with you totally. You would have thought by now terrorists would have learnt that life just goes on, we will not let them ruin our lives.
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