May 11, 2023

Bridget McDermott took to the podium just before 1pm. She had just heard three of her children talk about another three of her children. The three who went out one night and never came home. She had heard about the “gentle giant” William ‘Willie’ McDermott (22), who had put away his wages in a safe space but told his mother to take whatever she needed out of it by Tuesday. Of Georgie (18), the joker of the family who loved to play cards. “He was a good looking chap with black, wavy hair, and the most amazing hazel eyes,” his sister June said. “You’d run away with him but you’d bring him back just as quick.” And of Marcella (16), a quiet girl with an infectious smile who idolised her mother. And who was mad about music and, in particular, The Specials. Marcella’s younger sister Selena was her “skin and blister” who went everywhere with her. On the night of the Stardust fire, Marcella had told her she was going but said “don’t tell ma”, having told them she’d be babysitting instead. Selena described her mother seeing the three coffins laid out, banging on them and pleading to be let see her children. That wasn’t an option given to them. “She kept saying ‘why did he take three?’” Selena said. With passion, dignity and respect, the McDermotts had laid bare the impact the horrific Stardust tragedy had had on their family at the Stardust inquests on Thursday. When, overnight, a family of eight siblings suddenly became a family of five. Willie had managed to get out on the night, but went back in because George and Marcella were still inside. “How do you wake up from a nightmare like this?,” Selena said. She’d still leave a key in the front door for years in the hope one of them would walk through it. Their father was a fireman who was off duty that night. He frequently said he could’ve saved them if he’d been there. Aware of the kind of injuries they’d have sustained, he would say: “I know the death they had”. “This haunted him for the short years he had left in his life,” the inquest heard. Their family life became difficult. All dealing with grief. With blame. It became unbearable. Little help was offered from outside. Mrs McDermott was sent to a day centre for people with mental health issues and disabilities. She was put in a white coat and told to sit there and sew squares together. She said: "I’m not sick, I’m just grieving for my children". She never went back. Selena, June and Louise McDermott all pondered what their siblings would be doing now with their lives had they lived. Would Georgie and Willie still be arguing over Spurs and Leeds? Would they all have married and had kids? The chance to find out was taken away, but the thoughts of what-might-have-been can never be taken away. Helena Mangan The same is true of Samantha Curran. She was just four years old when her mother Helena Mangan (22) died in the Stardust. Samantha described her first day of school just a few months after the Stardust, seeing the children cry for their mothers and hoping her own would walk through the door and tell her how brave she was. Of sitting on the stairs waiting for her to come home, but she never did. Helena loved Rod Stewart, and loved to dance. A job she had gotten in Cadbury’s the year before was helping to her to make new friends and provide a better life for her and her daughter. She had found love again with a man named John Stout. He also died in the fire. Samantha Curran, the daughter of Stardust fire victim Helena Mangan, outside the Rotunda today. “I miss her so much I feel a huge piece of me is missing." Photo: Leah Farrell / RollingNews.ie Helena was a second mammy to her younger siblings and doted on Samantha, who has had to pass so many milestones without her. It wasn’t easy being a single mother in the late 70s and 80s but she held her head high. She was proud to be a mammy and Samantha was proud to be her daughter. “I so wish she could’ve been there to guide me in the right directions,” she said. “I miss her so much I feel a huge piece of me is missing. Now I need answers as to what happened to my mammy and why she never came home.” Now in her 80s, Mrs McDermott stepped up after everyone else had spoken. Supported by her daughters she said: “They went that night and they never came home to me. I miss them and I love them. And god bless them.” Read More