To mark the anniversary of the Dublin and Monaghan bombings, we are publishing a poem written by one of the survivors Andy Rowen.
Andy was 11 years old at the time
and was in Parnell Street helping his father deliver goods when one of the bombs went off.
Andy is one of many victims we have spoken to whose lives changed forever that day.
One Long Lost Day
An eyewitness account of the Dublin Bombings of 17th May 1974 as seen from Parnell Street through the eyes of an eleven and a half year old boy
The day that dawned that long lost May,
In every sense and every way,
Was just like any Summer day;
The sun had risen bright and fair,
And life was sweet, devoid of care;
Great hope and promise filled the air.
No foreign land or distant clime
Was more delightful, more sublime
Than Dublin in the Summertime.
The midday hour had come and gone,
And still the sun in splendour shone,
And still the day rolled sweetly on,
And still the day was bathed in grace,
As time now moved with greater pace
To meet the evening's warm embrace.
The city quickened with the flow
Of Friday traffic, row on row
And shoppers shuffling to and fro,
And pitched above the city's noise
Were heard the youthful cries and hois
Of title-yodelling paper boys:
"Herald or Press"
The weekend, now an hour away,
Was adding fever to the fray
As twilight poised to close the day.
Nothing stood out that would imply
A murderous hand had drawn nigh
And innocents were going to die;
No signal bell or sounding gong
Rang out to warn the hapless throng
That life, for some, would not be long;
That death would rear its ugly head
And paint the town of Dublin red
With blood too innocent to shed.
As Clery's jewel-in-the-crown
Proclaimed the hour to Dublin Town
Another clock was counting down;
A crooked clock whose cogs ran fast
As precious seconds hurtled past,
Each minute shorter than the last;
A fell device with heinous aim,
Designed to mangle, mar and maim,
With dreams to shatter, lives to claim,
Then, when the hour of grace had passed,
The hidden timepiece ticked its last
And triggered a tremendous blast!
Parnell Street shook with seismic sound
As brickwork tumbled to the ground
And debris hurled for blocks around,
And burning embers filled the sky
And jagged shards of glass let fly
As twisted shrapnel whistled by.
Whole façades vanished in a flash,
And every tumble, every crash
Imbued the air with smoke and ash.
Some ran for cover, screaming loud,
Some stumbled, shaken, through the crowd,
Some sank beneath the smokey shroud -
They never heard the deafening thud,
And sadly, perished where they stood
As Dublin's gutters ran with blood.
Some reeled beneath the sickening strain
Of shock and numbness,
Grief and pain,
As men lay wounded, women, slain.
.........
A father stoutly stood amazed,
His schoolboy son unhurt, but dazed,
As round about them wreckage blazed.
The fair-haired lad, not twelve years old,
Had watched the tragic scene unfold
In tears, and could not be consoled;
Against his will he stood his ground,
Suspended, fixed, and horror-bound
By every harrowing sight and sound.
The father moved with fitting speed
To minister, in word and deed,
And comfort those in greater need.
.........
One elder, who could not accept
The horror that before him swept,
Fell to his knees and prayed. And wept.
And, gushing tears he couldn't hide,
He tossed his hat and case aside
And loudly mourned for those that died.
One soul for whom he wept lay dead
With mortal wounding to his head -
So fresh a wound, it hadn't bled...
...until a paper boy took pains
To shield from view the grim remains;
His rags now rich with crimson stains.
Another soul, another prayer;
A woman who was young and fair
Lay limbless in her underwear.
This bomb had savagely disposed
Of precious limbs and frippish clothes
With tactless, indiscriminate blows.
As stunned onlookers stood aghast
An eerie silence sidled past
And then unleashed a second blast.
This second bomb was primed to blow
As Talbot Street was in full flow
With homebound travellers on the go.
This bomb, more deadly than the first,
Exploded with a monstrous burst!
With lightening speed the crowd dispersed -
They ran a dozen different ways,
And in their panic-driven daze
The streets became a deadly maze;
For where to run? They didn't know,
And terror dealt a further blow
As crowds converged in opposite flow.
Just then in Leinster Street, nearby,
Another bomb-blast ripped the sky
And paved the way for more to die.
By this, alarm bells far and wide
Were ringing loud as Gardaí tried
To shut the town on every side;
They cleared the streets and closed the scene
From Parnell Square to Stephen's Green
To let the rescue work begin.
The race was on to extricate
The souls that lay in wounded state;
Alas, for some, it was too late.
In three short minutes all was lost.
The paths of life and death had crossed
And left poor souls to count the cost.
Andy Rowen
