I wrote a post last week relating to the 49th anniversary of the Birmingham pub bombings. Thank you for the feedback I have received directly and through social media.
It also prompted two stories to come forward from two people closely associated with the site. They have given me permission to post them.It’s important to say that both show the wider impact of that night, however neither story is intended to detract from the awful impact or focus of the 21 who lost their lives. We at J&S fully support Julie Hambleton and everyone associated with the justice group.
First account is from a friend of the site. We have omitted surnames deliberately.
Tavern in the Town – Chris’ recollections.
On the night of the atrocity that has left a permanent scar on Birmingham, Chris was with his girlfriend of the time, Jenny. Their plan was to go to the cinema followed by a drink after the film. It was a Thursday night, 21st November 1974. They arrived at the cinema just before the start of the film and as they were walking down the gangway inside the Odeon in New Street there was a loud rumble towards the front of the picture house and a sheet of casing fell from the screen. It became clear something serious had occurred and there were sharp gasps from the assembled audience. Jenny was in a state of panic and Chris decided to turn tail and leave. As they alighted on the pavement outside, a double decker bus came round the corner and pulled up immediately in front of them. The side of the vehicle was caved in and all the glass was missing. There were several passengers with blood stains who were clearly traumatised. The rest of the story will be narrated in Chris’ own words.
“Jenny panicked and ran towards my car, a brand new Hillman Imp, which was parked just opposite and slightly along from the devastated and totally trashed, Tavern in the Town. She tried to get in only to find that of course, it was locked. She then ran off up one of the little alleyways at such a speed it took a few moments for me to catch her. She was clearly very frightened, hysterical and potentially a danger to herself running around on a busy street with mayhem and chaos all around. I caught up with her in the side alley off New Street with high buildings either side. She was trembling in fear and as I attempted to calm her down. I pointed out that a narrow alleyway was not a great place to be just at that moment given that another explosion may be imminent. I persuaded her to return to the car so we could leave the scene to safety. As I went to unlock the car which was covered in glass from the explosion incidentally, a police officer ordered me to leave the car there as it was evidence! The actual words were “yow ain’t gooing anywhere mate! That car’s evidence that is!” Jenny really started kicking off at this point and physically attacked the copper thumping his chest and screaming in protest at what was clearly a reasonable instruction. The shocked PC turned to Chris and eventually said; “Oh for heaven’s sake, take this woman away!” whilst he vainly struggled to fend her off. At this point I piled her into the car and drove off to her home in Acocks Green much to the relief of Jenny’s parents.”
It was fate that dictated that Chris and Jenny did not arrive at the cinema early and go into the Tavern in the Town before the movie or the bomb was not scheduled for a couple of hours later. How different things might have been had either of those scenarios occurred. Sadly, for the 21 innocent victims who lost their lives, their hopes and dreams would never be fulfilled. The Birmingham Six were initially tried and found guilty of the atrocity which claimed 21 lives and injured a further 182 people. They were to serve 16 and a half years for the crime but after a number of appeals their convictions were eventually quashed on the grounds of unreliable forensic evidence, physical and mental abuse of the accused during their interrogation, in custody and later in prison, the enforcement of confessions and the fabrication of evidence by the police. A full account can be accessed here: https://www.google.co.
Whether you believe the Birmingham Six were innocent or not, the families of the murdered are left with a seething sense of injustice that no one has been called to book for this horrible crime. The case is at this point closed since the police maintain that everything possible has been done to find alternative culprits if the original accused did not do it. The campaign Justice for the 21 led by Julie Hambleton and her family continues in its quest to publicly unveil the perpetrators. The 75 years immunity order banning the release of all documents connected with the case is a major barrier that is unlikely in the lifetimes of those directly affected to be released.
As expected, St Andrew’s rose in unison on 21 minutes as a mark of respect at yesterday’s game.
The second account shows that there were more victims beyond the 21 people who sadly lost their lives. I know that the J421 guys are acutely aware of this. This is the story of Russ who helps me with the site.
I was born in January 1974, so far too young to have been directly aware of the Birmingham Pub Bombings that would take place exactly 10 months later. My mom is a proud Brummie and married an Irish Catholic at a time when her own family found it questionable that anybody should marry an Irishman. My grandfather told me this himself. To be fair, I believe they made amends fairly quickly as my dad showed he was more honourable than they thought. He was a devout Birmingham City fan and – after experiencing, with his brothers, racism at the hands of police officers – remains to this day proudly anti racist.
I teach children today about the evil of judging people for the colour of their skin but my dad knew the horror of being judged for the sound of his voice. No Blacks. No Irish. No Dogs. He would stand toe to toe against any racist fan that visited Saint Andrews with his best mate, Anthony. An Irish Catholic with a devout family who settled in Birmingham like so many in the late 60s and early 70s. Anthony was to become my Godfather, and I have some very fond memories of this beautiful man. A charming man, who loved his wife and children, his Godson. But he had a tragic past that would haunt him until… Well, let’s talk about that past first.
A Thursday night ritual would involve, like for so many, meeting in a pub. For my Dad and Anthony it was the Mulberry Bush in Birmingham City Centre. Most weeks they would go to wet the baby’s head, share their joys, drown their sorrows, and Thursday 21st November 1974 should have been no different. Only I had a cold. I wish I could say 10 month old me caught it deliberately, like some unmasked surgeon in Wuhan. But I was oblivious. My dad stayed home. He tried to reach Anthony on his mobile phone but… There were no mobile phones. Anthony would just go out with other mutual (lesser) friends, perhaps head home early when he realised my dad couldn’t make it?
He didn’t make it inside the pub. He was seriously injured by flying glass and debris when the Mulberry Bush bomb was detonated. He was walking to get in there and surely wouldn’t have survived, had he been moments earlier. My Dad recalls Anthony changed from that day, naturally. His reliance on alcohol increased. His reliance on his friends decreased. He eventually took his own life, depriving us all of a good man. Leaving his parents without a son, his wife and children without husband and father. He never saw his 40th birthday.
There were no legitimate targets for the IRA that night. But you have to wonder what it must have done to Anthony, knowing his own kinsmen perpetuated that evil to him, to the 21 dead angels. For what? The Good Friday Agreement was a literal lifetime away and can in no way be attributed to the actions of that night. To add insult to injury, the very victims of that bombing were further victimised as their Irish accents suggested they could somehow be responsible for the heinous crime. The physical scars faded but the mental scars clearly remained. He is sorely missed and I would suggest he could number among the victims of that night, as – indeed – I’m sure could many others who were maimed and injured, including fire fighters and decent police officers who had to deal with the aftermath.
This story isn’t to dilute the plight of the 21, but to highlight it, however. 21 innocent victims lost their lives that very night. 21 who still haven’t received justice from a government or police that seemingly doesn’t care about the terrorist act that shook Birmingham 49 years ago. My good fortune that my father is still here isn’t shared by the likes of Anthony’s children, or Julie Hambleton. A simple twist of fate can provide solace for some, anguish for others. A simple twist of justice could provide peace for all.
We are who We are. Forged in steely determination. Blues is not just the Colour. It is Heart and Soul, Joys and Sorrows.