50 years later, in Northern Ireland, “it’s like it was yesterday”, confide families of victims

Jimmy Duddy not only recounts that day, he relives it. He can’t stand still and waves his arms. Half a century after the “Bloody Sunday” massacre [dimanche sanglant], this resident of Derry, in Northern Ireland (United Kingdom), a soon to be septuagenarian bald with his white mustache, becomes again the young man of 18 who ran under the bullets. With his Northern Irish accent, he describes his friends collapsing wounded, his uncle dejected. He speaks from the corner of a street, indicates it in the distance. Then changes his mind, evokes another place. Her eyes redden as she reads: “It doesn’t seem like 50 years to us. It feels like yesterday.”

“We want the guilty to be punished. We want justice.”

jimmy duddy

at franceinfo

On January 30, 1972, a regiment of British parachutists violently repressed a peaceful demonstration against discrimination against the Catholic minority of Northern Ireland in Derry. Thirteen civilians, including several minors, were killed by the soldiers’ bullets. A turning point in the struggle between Catholic separatists and Protestant unionists. Since then, the British government has apologized but no soldier has ever been convicted. A walk of remembrance is to mark its fiftieth anniversary on Sunday.

Karen Doherty remembers that day too well too. From the height of her 11 years, she had decided to accompany her father to this demonstration. A revered dad who finally convinced her to stay home to babysit her siblings. A few hours later, Paddy Doherty was shot in the back. He has since been found not to be a terrorist and unarmed like all the other victims.

Karen remembers the silence of the adults in the house that day. His mother, a cousin of his father who didn’t dare answer his questions. Her anxiety that was creeping up in this house plunged in horror and sadness. Her grandfather’s pale face and his fleeting gaze, all these moments marked a turning point for her as for them.

It was finally a stranger, in front of her house, who announced to the little girl: “Your father was shot.” “Our family was devastated, says Karen. My mother couldn’t manage on her own with six children. Our home has never been the same. Dad was a man who took up space. A wonderful dad. His death had the effect of an explosion in the house and we were never able to put all the pieces together.” The 60-year-old speaks without shaking, brooding over the moved gaze of her friend Caroline O’Donnell, a friendship sealed by 50 years of tears and struggle.

Caroline was a little luckier. His father was targeted by the English soldiers but he was only wounded. He had gone to the demonstration with friends, his mother was also there, accompanied by his sisters. She was 14 years old and remembers a joyful morning, parents happy to participate in this walk, carefree. She also remembers her grandmother, worried. His father had lied to him and hidden that he was joining the procession. A few hours later, seriously injured, he repeated: “Don’t tell my mom or she’ll worry.” At the mention of this anecdote, Caroline smiles briefly.

In this district of Bogside in Derry, everything recalls this day of January 30, 1972, this time. In particular the huge murals that decorate the houses. On a white wall topped by a black flag, one can read “There is no British justice”. Caroline O’Donnell’s father died in 2006 without the soldier who had targeted him being convicted: “When I think about it, it always stirs strong emotions in me. I continue to hope that we can prosecute him in court, that he will be found guilty. And he may pay in his next life if he gets away with it.”

The whole neighborhood, this whole community will walk on Sunday in the footsteps of these demonstrators, following the same route. Derry has been going around in circles for 50 years, locked in this January 30, 1972.