"My" Bomb

Looking around the theatre foyer last week (see my previous post), we browsed among a series of photographs of the Old Vic's previous productions, going back to the 1950's. One of these was from Equus, produced in late 1974. I remembered it well, as I was in the stage crew there, just after leaving University. I kept the brown polo-neck jumper of a costume for years afterwards.

It reminded me that I'm lucky to be here.
1974 was one of the years when the IRA was very active, leaving time-bombs wherever they thought they could be most dangerous, including in nightclubs and pubs. They gave no warning of the bombs, and just let them rip us civilians to shreds.

At that time, I was twenty-one, observant, and a skip-diver. I noticed valuables and not-so-valuables left in skips, in bins, and elsewhere. On the 18th December, at about 7pm, someone from the IRA left a bomb in a sports bag in the foyer of a jeans shop on Park Street, on my route from home to my work in the theatre. I know that under normal circumstances I would have walked past the shop ten minutes later, seen the bag, opened it and blown myself to bits.

It didn't happen. Moonface and I had decided to celebrate the first complete year of our relationship by eating together in a restaurant, so I took the evening off. I remember the restaurant - Floyd's, in The Mall. I remember waking at 3am feeling full and unable to sleep again, burning the rich food off with the fire above my kidneys. I remember learning about the bomb the next morning and feeling anger, and pleasure at being alive.


:0)