Stardust Inquests – Day 11 – Pen Portraits

Mangan, Helena – Samantha Mangan

Helena was a daughter, sister, mother and friend. Helena was one of six children to Francis and Josephine Mangan and was the second eldest child. Helena was only 22 years of age when she was killed in the Stardust fire. I am Helena’s daughter, Samantha, and I was only 4½ years old when she was tragically taken away from me. My life at aged 4 ½ went from living in a home full of happiness, fun, and laughter, to living in the saddest and quietest house, with this horrible tension of despair all around. My family was left broken, devastated and destroyed. My family were left so broken that they could barely mention her name.

Helena was 4ft 10 in height with a beautiful figure, brown hair and the most amazing blue eyes you have ever seen. Her favourite colours were purple and green, and she loved Rod Stewart and ‘70s music and she loved to dance. She didn’t wear much makeup, just a little mascara, but on very special occasion would wear a little lipstick too. She loved Christmas it was her favourite time of year. And her favourite flowers were red carnations.

Helena was kind, caring, loving, brave and strong but could be stubborn at times with a funny dry sense of humour.

Helena had her whole life ahead of her and she had so many plans for her future.  Helena was just starting to get her life together at 22. You see, Helena had become a mother at the age of 17. In 1976, it wasn’t easy to be a single mother. Teenagers who were single mothers were frowned upon. But Helena was brave, and she held her head up high as she walked up the street pushing me in my pram, because she was proud to be my Mammy.

I am very proud to be Helena’s daughter.

Helena also had great support from her parents. Even though they were worried at the prospect of their daughter being a mother at such a young age, they stood by her and let her stay in the family home to raise her daughter. Helena became like a second Mam around the house to her other siblings as well as being their big sister. She was that person that you go to if you need help, advice or were in trouble. She was the sort of person who would always be there for you.

Helena loved to bake and was very good at it and there was always a lovely smell of freshly baked cakes in the house when she was there. Helena was also a great seamstress; I am so lucky to still have a blue dress she made for me when I was a baby. It was so professionally made. She could also crochet and would crochet blankets for me. She would also teach her sisters and friends to crochet and sew too.

Helena loved to go into town on Saturdays with her Mam and sisters. When they would go shopping Helena loved to treat her sisters and especially her Mam. If she knew her Mam liked a top or dress and she couldn’t afford it, Helena would go and buy it for her. Helena and her Mam were the best of friends. Helena loved style and was always in the latest fashion. Helena would put a little bit of money aside every week so that she could have the latest new top or skirt. Not only for her, but for me too.

Helena loved to dance and loved her music. One of her favourite songs was ‘Maggie May’ by Rod Stewart and she also loved ‘Loving You’ by Minnie Riperton – she would sing it to me every night to put me asleep. Helena loved music so much she taught herself to play the guitar and she was pretty good at it too, but her singing was not so good even though it seemed to me that she sung beautifully when she sang me to sleep.

Helena took her role as a mother very seriously and didn’t like it when her Mam tried to take over because she was my Mammy, and it was her job to take care and look after me. Even though her Mam was just trying to help or give her a little break, to her, it was her job and not my Nanny’s. Helena was looking forward to the day that we became more than mother and daughter; she was looking forward to us becoming the best of friends too, but she never got that chance.

Helena only managed to have one foreign holiday in her life and that was to Spain (Benidorm) the year before she died, but she was planning more. She wanted to bring me on the next holiday. While she was in Spain, she got to hold a monkey and it sat on her lap and there was a picture taken, which I still have and treasure as it is one of the few photos she is smiling in as she didn’t smile much because she had braces and didn’t want anybody to see them. In this photo, she has no braces and has the biggest most beautiful smile.

In 1980, Helena had landed her first job in Cadbury’s and she was really enjoying it. Making new friends, having her own money and being able to provide a better life for us both. This was to be the start of a better life for us. But the life she was planning for us never happened. Helena wanted to get her own home and wanted to see more of the world too. She would’ve had more children too, and I could have been a big sister. Helena had also found love again in her life with John Stout, but sadly he too was killed in the Stardust disaster.

Helena’s brother Brendan and sister Valerie have said the following about their big sister.

Her brother Brendan has said: “I was only 9 years old when Helena died. I remember her as the kindest most beautiful person I’ve ever known. I remember when she went on her first holiday to Spain it was so exciting, she was going on a plane and she brought me back a remote-control bike. It was the best present I ever got. Helena loved music and played the guitar beautifully and it’s because of her that I, too, love and play the guitar.

When I think back, it was only later in life, long after she was gone, that I realised how young she was when she had her daughter Samantha, and how courageous she was in taking care of her as a single mother and looking after me and the rest of the family. A true rock.  I miss her every day.”

Her sister Valerie has said: “Helena was a daughter, sister, mother and friend. Helena was a kind-hearted person. She was generous, and I don’t mean with material things, but with her time and love. Helena was hard working, as she had her daughter to provide for.

Helena was one of my two older sisters. She went out one night and never came home. This left a very big hole in my heart and life. I always knew I could depend on her for anything big or small, it didn’t matter what: she was always there with a smile and common sense.

As a big sister, Helena did what big sisters do. She taught me how to knit, use a needle and thread and as I got older, she showed me how to use the sewing machine. Helena helped me to bake and with her guidance I got better, but not as good as her.

Helena was not just my sister; she was my world. I can’t put into words how much I miss her every day. It hurts just to think about her.”

On the 13^th of February 1981 I remember watching my Mam get ready for a night of friendship, fun, dance and romance. I never thought that it would be the last time I’d watch as she blow-dried her hair, so soft and shiny, put on her nail varnish and her best clothes. Or that it would be the last time I’d smell her, or hug and kiss her good night. If I had of known I would never have let her go. Before my mammy left that night, she me a big kiss and hug and told me to be good girl and go to sleep and, in the morning, we would go to town.

On the 14 of February 1981, I woke up and I climbed up to the top bunk of our bed to get in beside my Mammy for a kiss and a cuddle. That’s were my Mam’s bed was, as we all lived with her family in the family home. But when I got up to her bed she was not there. Her bed wasn’t even slept in.  As I made my way down the stairs looking for her, I could sense something was wrong. I couldn’t find my Mammy anywhere and there were sounds of crying and I didn’t know why.

I waited and waited for my Mammy to come home. I sat on the stairs looking at all the people coming in and out of the house for days. But she never came home. Just sitting there waiting and wondering where she’s gone because my mammy would never leave me, as I was her world, and she was mine.

I don’t remember much about the funeral except standing at the grave side holding my granddad’s hand and staring at all the people around me, there was hundreds and hundreds of people everywhere I looked.

Life has been so hard without my Mammy. She was my whole world. My everything. I miss her so much that a part of me is broken by never having her to hug me and tell me everything is going to be alright because she is here for me always.

1981 was the year I was to start my big adventure in the big world. I was going to start school. I was going to be a big girl, my Mammy told me. She told me not to worry that I would make new friends and that she would be there for me on my first day at school and be there when I came home. But on my first day she was not there. As I sat on the Teacher’s table, looking at the other girls crying because they didn’t want their Mammies to leave them, I sat there thinking my mammy was going to burst through the door saying I’m here, I’m here, and give me a hug and a kiss and tell me how brave I was for not crying and for waiting patiently for her.

But she never did.

As the weeks, and months and years went by, I would pretend that she was still alive, that she had lost her memory and had gotten out of the fire and had just wandered off, that she’d got on buses and trains and is traveling the country until she remembers who she is. And when she does, she will be back so fast that it will be like she was never gone. But that never happened.

As the years went by, I still hoped that she’d come back. Every year on my birthday, as I blew out the candles on my cake, I would wish so hard for her to come through the door. At Christmas, I wished Santy would bring her back, but he never did.

Then I’d hope she’d turn up for all those special occasions that were coming up in my life like my Communion, Confirmation, and my wedding. She never returned but I still prayed and hoped that she would one day.

Throughout my teenage years, I began scanning the streets as I walked through crowds, trying to pick her out. Because I thought that my Mammy’s memory hadn’t returned, I thought I’d see her in the street, and she’ll remember me and come home. When I heard someone call a person with the same name as her, I turned around to see if it was my Mammy, Helena.

But it never was.

When I was planning my wedding, I really wished she could have been there with me to help organise the venue, flowers etc. and come dress shopping and walk me down the aisle. I would have given anything to have her walk me down the aisle and give me away, and tell me how proud she was of me. I wanted her to be there so much, I got married on her 50^th birthday in the hope that she may turn up and celebrate her big day too.

Helena has five beautiful grandchildren which she never got to see and cuddle and hold. When I had my children, I really could have done with her being here to help me through motherhood and especially when I lost my first child on her birthday. To not have her here to hug me tight and tell me every little thing is going to be alright. Never to have your Mammy to tell you she’s proud of you and never to feel that unconditional love that a Mammy can give to make you feel loved and safe. It has been really hard for me to never hear or feel that proudness from my mammy and that love again ever in my life. I so wish she could have been here to guide me in the right directions in my life. I miss her so much that I feel there is a huge piece of me missing.

On the 12^th of February 2019, I read her coroner’s report for the first time, as I felt I was strong enough and needed to know how see died. I always expected to read that her body was burnt, but I wasn’t prepared to read that parts were missing. There was no mention as to where her missing parts were. This really threw me into a dark place, a place I was never expecting to go; and a place I’m still trying to crawl out of. I really thought that I was strong but it broke me to read how badly my Mammy’s body was in and that she was buried incomplete.

Now I need answers about how this happened to my Mammy, so that I can try to move on and be a better Mammy to my own children. Because my children deserve to have the best mammy. I want them to have the mammy I only ever dreamed of.

As I stand here, today, you see a 46-year-old woman but, to me, I’m like a 4½ year old child trapped in this old body, a child that has never had the answer as to what really happened to Mammy that night. Stuck in time on the inside while aging on the outside: always wondering how that fire started. Why hasn’t there been any justice for her and 47 other young people? I want to know what happened that night and why my mammy never came home.

McDermott, William “Willie” – Louise McDermott

My name is Louise (Leech) McDermott. I am going to read the pen portrait of our brother Willie McDermott. We were a family of 10, 8 siblings and our ma and da. We lived in Edenmore Crescent, Raheny and absolutely loved living there. Even though our ages ranged from 11-24 we were very close, and the older siblings always looked out for the younger ones.

Willie was our brother, and he was only 22 years of age when he died. He was a tall strong lad and our mother’s first boy born. He was the big brother who protected us all.

He was very witty, funny, caring and kind, but also a gentle giant. He had the most beautiful smile with the perfect white teeth, it was no wonder all the girls were always chasing him. I remember myself and my sister gathering up the Valentine’s cards that were delivered to the house and most of them were for Willie. Sadly, he would never get to see them or know how much he was admired.

He had a job he loved at Fitzgerald’s truck company in Raheny. He was learning to drive at the time and sadly he never got to see that he passed his test, his licence arrived a few days after his death. He was the first to drive in our family. Our late uncle Liam used to take him out to give him lessons in his van. They were very close and it broke Liam’s heart when willie died that night, he actually had to identify the Willie.

Willie was very witty and funny man, he had a great sense of humour and had a witty answer for everything.

He had a love of music, he was forever buying LPs, which thankfully we still have today. From E.L.O., T Rex and of course the Dubliners.

The weekend couldn’t come quick enough for Willie. He loved meeting up with his friends, going for a game of pool and a few beers, but he also loved spending time with his sisters Bred, June and of course his brother Jim, again Croke Park was always their destination. God he loved blaring his music in the parlour before heading out to hill 16 in Croke Park, only the Hill would do for our Willie, to see his beloved Dubs. After the Dubs won it was to Maher’s pub and then the Green Dolphin in Raheny to top it all off in the Asguard in Howth, a good ballad session would be going.

He was a soft-voiced man and the only time I would hear him raise his voice would be when he would be arguing with his brother George about Leeds & Tottenham. These arguments never lasted long because after long they realised neither were any good.

In the 70’s times were hard, and money was tight, and like most of the older ones he had his hiding place, he would hide his wage packet in a vent in the boxroom. He would tell mam to take what she needed but made sure it was before Tuesday because it would be gone by then, he would hate to see our mum struggle.

Not long before he died I (Louise) remember being upset and crying because other children were picking on me because of my red hair and freckles, he picked me up and said “Louise don’t cry, you’re going to be just lovely when you grow up” I will never forget that day.

Willie wasn’t going to go to the Stardust that night, he was out playing pool and having a few beers when he came home and old our mam he was off to the Stardust. She was surprised because he never usually went there, but he said, ‘Ah sure its Valentine’s night and everyone’s going’. That was the last time our mam seen Willie. We know Willie got out that night but went back in because he knew George and Marcella was in there. He was found early on and was taken to the Mater Hospital and he passed away from the fumes.

When we think as a family what Willie would be like today, we can only imagine the future he would have had. Willie would be 62 now and no doubt would probably be running his own truck company now.

He most certainly would have married, with a home and family of his own and would still be going to Hill 16 with his own children and grandchildren. He was the most amazing brother and son and he had grown into the most beautiful man.

We will always laugh, cry and talk about Willie as we will never know how things could have been. We will always keep his memory alive.

McDermott, George – June McDermott

I am June McDermott; I was the eldest of 8 children in the family. I will be reading the Pen Portrait of my brother George, he was 18 when he died, he would have been 19 in 3 weeks.

George was very good looking with black wavy hair and the most amazing hazel eyes. He always had a cheeky grin on his face and our mother used to say “what’s he up to now” whenever she saw that grin.

Georgie was the joker of the family; he could get up to anything. The family house was always full of music and laughter I don’t know how our record player never blew up; it was always on. No better man than Georgie to have a little bop around the house.

George was a gentle person who hated arguments and falling out with people, he would walk away if he thought trouble was coming, he just liked to get on with people.

He was a Tottenham Hotspur fanatic and he used to get a lot of slagging over that. Although, he would have had the last laugh over us, they have Harry Kane playing for them now, he would have loved that.

But most of all he loved playing cards with his pals out on the green. He always had a pocket full of change, you could hear the pennies rattling first before you saw George. Himself and his friends would only bet with pennies. He would bet on anything and anything he won he would give to the kids on the road.

George loved going up to Howth, he loved the freedom up there and of course meeting his pals in the Cock Tavern for their game of cards. When he would come home late, he would say “ahh sure luck wasn’t with me tonight so I had to walk home”. One time we all went down to Dollymount beach and what did Georgie do but bury his shoes and forget where he put them. It took us forever to get home, didn’t I have to give him a jockey-back the whole way home.

He was such a gentle soul but when him and my father did have words he would come down to me, two doors down and we would laugh it off. Although the laughter left us that night, just as they did.

On that awful night Georgie came down to me to show off his new clothes Mam had bought him for going to the Stardust. He said, “What do you think of this Junie” I replied, “Would you not babysit and let us go out?”. He said, “Not a chance. I have a date.” I never thought that would be the last time I seen him. All of the kids that night had so much to live for and left so much behind. We still wonder what Georgie would be like now, would he be married have children, we will never know.

When we think of what George would be like now, he would have been 58 and probably running Paddy Power. A family of his own and heading across the sea to see Spurs playing a match and meeting up with family and friends for a few beers.

George was so funny and one of the nicest people you could meet. He was a young fella full of life and we will always keep his memory alive.

Now that we have come this far Georgie has his identity back, he is no longer number 30, he is George McDermot, our Georgie.

The dead cannot cry out for justice. It is the duty of the living to do so for them.

McDermott, Marcella – Selina McDermott

Our sister Marcella was only 16 years of age when she died that night. Marella came into this world on the 5th March 1965. She was the 6th child to be born in our family of 8.

The first words used to explain Marcella, as my mother would say when talking about her, are: happy, singing and dancing.

In the first early years of her short life, my mother said that Marcella was quie. You would hardly know she was in the house. “She wasn’t a baby who cried or a little girl who wanted much”.

Marcella had the most gentle and kind nature, especially around children. She loved minding her nephews and spoiling them whenever she could. The summer before the 14th February 1981, she stood and became godmother for her sister Bred’s son Paul.

A tall girl with the most beautiful jet-black hair, beautiful blue eyes and infectious smile. She loved her music, clothes and the latest fashion. Any spare money she had, she would meet up with her friends in town and head into the Dandelion Market. I was very close with Marcella as her little skin and blister; she would bring me

everywhere. We would go into town on the 28 bus and we would also go to the Dandelion Market. She would always buy a record, a pin badge for her Harrington jacket or a t-shirt and sometimes she would buy me some new badges and treats. Oh how I treasure those memories.

She didn’t hate school but didn’t love it either. She never complained about it or anything for that matter.

She got her first job in Lawco clothing manufacturers in Jervis Street. She then got a job in Dunnes Stores in Talbot Street in town, and this is where her confidence thrived as Marcella was also a quite shy girl. This job gave her a little from the few bob she earned especially in the bleak 80s but Marcella could brighten up any situation, she was always happy. She never came home from work without a little something for our mother and the last thing she actually bought her was a lovely cream cake, it’s the little things that you remember and never leave you.

She idolized my mother and couldn’t do enough for her and the same for my father, even the times one of the others would be giving out about him saying ‘turn that music down’ or ‘make us a cup of tea’ but Marcella wouldn’t have a bad word said about him and always made his cup of tea perfect.

Like the rest of the family, music was a big part of Marcella’s life, that’s why she never stopped dancing especially to her favourite band The Specials. Her last t-shirt and record she bought was from The Specials. Little did she know, her last time to see them was actually at the Stardust, two weeks before she died.

On that evening 13th February 1981, Marcella told me she was going to the Stardust but not to tell Ma. She said, “I am going to say I’m going babysitting”. She asked me to hide her clothes in the Alley-O and that’s what I did.

Marcella was with her friends that night Noleen Dillon, Esther Raynor, Donna Mahon, who also died, and a few others. She was also dancing with Willie & George and a few neighbours from Edenmore. They were all having a great time.

I was staying in my sister June’s house which is two doors up from the family home. An unmerciful bang was pounding on the front door, it was my ma and da. She screamed there was a fire in the Stardust, Willie & George are there, Marcella is babysitting. I said, “No, she is at the Stardust”. Dad picked me up and screamed “What do you mean?”. He dropped me and everybody ran out.

Our beautiful Marcella was only officially identified on the 18th February because they had to wait for dental records from Edenmore & Raheny. Only for that, she would have been amongst the 5 unidentified

My life, our lives became very different from then on. I lost my best friend. I remember sitting on the stairs, the crowds of people in the house and waiting to hear if they were found. They were found but they weren’t coming home.

I have known death, sorrow, pain and loss from the age of 11. I didn’t speak for very, very long time. My mother needed so much help then, she was completely lost and my father was going through his own guilt, grief and depression. We had no support from the outside, only the family around us who were also grieving. I very quickly had to group.

When we talk about Marcella, none of us can remember her ever being in a bad mood or giving out. She had such a good outlook on life and was always so positive about things, she only ever saw the good in people. She had so many friends, from Edenmore to Coolock and Finglas, that’s why my mother and father asked her friends to carry her coffin, all dressed up in their Two Tone Gear.

Marcella would be 56 if she was alive and here with us today.

Because her outlook on life was so strong and positive we can only imagine who and where and what she would be doing today. We believe Marcella would probably have gone on to do brilliant things, but there’s no doubt she most definitely would have married and had children.

When we talk about Marcella you can’t help but smile and when we play her favourite band we know she’s having a little dance up there with us.

Marcella was one of a kind and we will always keep her memory alive.

The Stardust – God, how we hate that name. The 14th February 1981 changed our lives as a family forever. Nothing could have prepared us for what was happening and about to happen. We went to bed as a family of eight siblings and woke up as five.

When they told our mother that they had found Willie, she knew that George and Marcella wouldn’t be coming home either. She knew in her heart that all three were gone.

It wasn’t until we went to Kirwan’s Funeral Home and saw the three coffins laid out that we understood what was really happening. Our mother was banging on the coffins “let me see my children” which wasn’t an option given to our mother or father or the family.

In the church that day we thought we had not only lost Willie, George and Marcella; but also our mother. She kept saying, “Why did he take three!”. From leaving that church, our mot   her doesn’t remember burying her children.

The eruption of chaos was in our home. It was like not knowing where to start. The crying, the wailing, the fighting and the blaming but most of all, the emptiness in 42 Edenmore Crescent.

The next five years went by in a total blur, like all of us our mother received very little help from anyone, no counselling was ever mentioned; in fact our mother was sent to a day centre for people with mental health issues and disabilities. They put a white coat on her and told her to sew little squares together. She kept saying “I’m not sick or mad I’m just grieving for my children”. Thank god she never went back.

Her life after the Stardust fire has been one of the most unimaginable grief. How do you wake up from a nightmare like this? Only it wasn’t a nightmare. She would still leave a key in the front door for years after hoping one of them would walk through any minute.

Although there was still five of us left our mother really struggled. There were occasions where we would find her in the Allio with her packet of sleeping tablets ready to end it all, but luckily someone always found her. This was when we thought she had truly given up. After this, Selina went up to her room with a picture of the sacred heart and asked “Did you love them more than us?”. That’s when something changed in our mother.

Our father was a fireman and was off duty that night. His watch was D Watch and they were called out to the Stardust that night. He kept saying he could have saved them if he was there but deep down, he knew they weren’t coming home. He would often say, being a fireman, “I know the death they had” and this haunted him for the short years he had left. He did go back to work at Tara Street and was put on the phones, but he just couldn’t do it. They gave him early retirement. The fire brigade were very good to him and our family.

Life was becoming quite difficult at home as we were all dealing with our grief in our own way. Our mother blaming him for not being there to save them and he blaming her for not knowing Marcella wasn’t babysitting. Eventually life was unbearable for the two of them and they separated.

June and Bred were still young and married and had children of their own. They lost their pals that night as they were closer in age and went out together. They also still had to look after us as well as coming to terms with their own grief.

From the 14^th February 1981, Willie, George and Marcella being taken from us that night tore our family apart.

People used to say that life will go on, but what use would counselling have been without any closure about what happened that night. What has made closure impossible for the loss of Willie, George and Marcella is the fact that the Irish State has failed to apply law or any proper investigation into their deaths and that’s why we’re here today.

The power and the will of healing is what got our family through this and thank god we were strong enough.

Willie, Marcella and George you will always be with us. We love and miss you.

Bred and Mrs McDermott

My name is Bridgit McDermott. Willie, George and Marcell were my 3 children. They went out and never came home. I love and I miss them dearly.