Twenty years ago today, 96 people died of crushing and suffocation at Hillsborough football ground in Sheffield, England.
I have a pretty strong constitution, and tend not to have much of a visceral reaction to the various human tragedies that make the news, but for some reason this one always freaked me out a bit. I still feel a sort of claustrophobia when i see the pictures of the fans jammed against that metal fence. I can’t imagine what their last moments must have been like.
The fence that held them in was designed largely as a behavior control device, designed to keep fans off the playing surface, and way from fans of the opposing team. Unfortunately, it ended up being reason so many were unable to escape. After the disaster, and the various inquests and reports, new stadiums were built as all-seat stadiums, in an effort to avert similar incidents.
No Brit who was around in 1989 will have forgotten the incident, but those who don’t know about it can read a more detailed description on the Hillsborough Disaster Wiki entry. A Google news search will also bring up plenty of current articles.
Here’s a couple of images from contemporary newspaper accounts. I’ve broken the links because, although they’re not really NSFW (no blood and gore), they’re still pretty graphic in their own way.
Coincidentally, this December will be thirty years since the tragedy at the Who concert in Cincinnati that helped to end much of “festival” seating at concert halls in the United States.
Didn’t really know about the Hillsborough tragedy at the time, but have heard about it a lot since. Senseless stuff like that just boggles the mind.
I saw the tribute on football focus (BBC tv program) this satrurday and the stories just made me shudder. The parents who lost both their doughters, the stories of players going to see a 14 year old in hospital only to be told they were going to pull the plug later that day, current Liverpool player Gerrard about hoping no one he knew was hurt and getting the dreaded knock the next day…
I’ve had two experiences which give me a little insight on what those people went through.
As a 13 yr old, on my first time in Man. United’s Stretford End, before the match had started I’d pushed my way through to the crush barrier separating our tier from the next level, and against the advice of a man near me, decided to stay there rather than climb over. When the teams came out, there was a surge from the back and my scrawny little chest was rammed against the barrier. I can remember trying to get my hands up from my sides, but the next thing I knew, I was on the other side of the barrier being held up by the man who had warned me.
The other time was only weeks later. Coming out of the same part of the ground, I’d lost sight of my mates and decided to follow the crowd over a bridge that crossed the railway line that ran alongside the ground. The bridge was about 20 foot wide with head-high concrete walls either side and about 30 steps leading up to the flat section. I’ve no idea how many people were trying to cross it, but by the time I’d reached the top of the steps, the crush was that great that my feet were off the floor as we slowly moved across the 20 metres of bridge before it widened out again. I never passed out this time, but for the minutes it took to reach the other side, I was fully aware that if I fell to the floor I would be trampled.
Bearing in mind the lack of adequate crowd control in those days, I think it was just sheer good fortune that there hadn’t already been a ‘Hillsborough’ type event in English football.
Which somehow made its way to Youtube and hasn’t yet been yanked.
A friend of mine keeps complaining that the atmosphere at grounds these days is “shit” and I think he’s warped. I mean, really - good atmosphere vs. chance of dying? Yeah.
A few weeks after the disaster I was at Celtic Park in Glasgow with my dad, waiting for the teams to come out before kick-off. It’s maybe the second or third football game I can remember going to (I was 12 years old) and it was a memorial match for the victims, played between Liverpool and Celtic.
It’s the only match I’ve ever been to at which there has been absolutely no segregation between opposing fans. We were standing on the terraces and a guy I was at school with walked past us wearing a liverpool shirt although, like me, he was a Celtic supporter. There were a bunch of guys behind me talking with broad scouse accents who were wearing celtic tops (one of them had his liverpool scarf though which he was was happy to trade for my celtic one - I’ve still got it). The teams came out and took up alternating positions around the centre circle, then there was the eerie atmosphere of 60 thousand people being completely silent for two minutes.
I’m in no way claiming to share the depth of emotion experienced by the friends/families of those who died, but it was still pretty harrowing. I don’t even think I fully understood what was going on at the time, I was just affected by the sight of all the people unashamedly crying.
As I understand it (though the laws might be different on your side of the pond), manslaughter can include incompetence. Usually the standard is something like “actions which a reasonable person would understand to carry a significant risk of death”.