On this particular morning I remember scrambling around the room looking for clothes. I caught the word Dunblane on the news and paused to listen to the report because I'd lived in Dunblane just the year before--in a lovely house next to the river with my wonderful flatmate Frank.
The reports made no sense. Children massacred in that tiny peaceful town? Must be somewhere in the States with the same name. It wouldn't have made the crime any less heartbreaking, but it would make it less personal.
But it was Dunblane, near Stirling.
I'd spent quite a lot of time in Dunblane Primary School taking evening art classes. It was just gorgeous and lovely--all those tiny chairs and miniature toilets. I remember in vivid detail coming out of my art class and bumping into one of the lecturers from my department at Stirling University. He was there for his daughter's parents evening. My first thought on hearing the news was 'Jesus, I hope Kim's daughter is safe.'
She was. Thank God.
But there were other people from the university who lost children that day and one of them shares his story in the link below. It is heartbreaking. It makes me weep, ten years on.
The Grade 1 class at Dunblane Primary School.
Most of the children in this class were killed in the shooting on 13 March 1996
One father's struggle as a town hides its grief
It was an ordinary Wednesday morning in a small Scottish town. Then, after one of the most shocking events in postwar British history, 16 children and a teacher lay dead. As Dunblane prepares for the 10th anniversary of the massacre, Lorna Martin revisits the town and speaks to one parent about his journey through grief and loss