Wednesday, 7 July 2010


I remember what I was doing when I heard the news. My younger son was getting married the following week and I was helping my daughter-in-law with the final touches to her wedding dress.
We had the television on when the news came through, and she was very concerned as her elder brother was travelling across London on his way to see her. It was with a great deal of relief that sometime later, she was able to give him a big welcome hug.
I remember hearing the news about John Kennedy's assassination on Nov. 22nd 1963. Our YPF (Young People's Fellowship - gosh doesn't that sound old fashioned) was having its annual outreach weekend and I bounced into the hall with a friend and wondered why one of the lads was looking so despondent.
Even at that age with a very narrow outlook on life I was fully aware of the hope that the young Kennedy had brought. And I saw the very first Dr Who the next day!
I was at work in a design studio in London when I heard that his brother had also been assassinated.
In August 1977, I remember my Dad asking me what I thought about Elvis's death - I didn't read a newspaper and had no idea that it was thought to be drug related.
I woke up in the back bedroom of our house to hear that John Lennon had been shot - in 1980 it really did mean the end of the Beatles, because there was always talk of them getting back together - but I still love their music.
And I was working hard on the dissertation for my Masters when my Mum rang me up on 9/11.

I watched the programme about 7/7, seeing folk talk about what happened, some claiming it was a miracle that they survived. But what about those who didn't, two young men, both travelling by tube for the first time - one lived, one died. Those left behind not wanting to know of a God who would take away their precious daughter. I wonder how I would have reacted if I was in their shoes.
And did miracles happen that day?
Or do miracles happen everyday? but there are not the extreme events that cause us to stop and take note.

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