The inquests into the deaths of the 48 young people who died in the Stardust fire in Artane, Dublin in 1981 feature pen portraits of each of the deceased by bereaved family members. Find all of the portraits and more coverage here.
Betty Bissett: February 14th, 1981 is a day marked in my mind, body and soul, the day the Stardust fire took my beautiful daughter Carol. We were blessed with five beautiful children, Carol being the second eldest.
Carol was quiet in her own way. She participated well in school and at work. Academically she was in the school band, choir and Girl Guides.
She had lovely friends. And if you had a friend in Carol, you had a friend for life. Carol was a daughter, sister, cousin, godmother to my sister’s twins, whom she loved dearly.
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There was so much taken from her that night – devastating her family, friends and community. When the terrible news came in we found ourselves in someone else’s nightmare. She was in hospital and died three days later. She was alone. I wasn’t there to hold her hand and tell her how I love her.
I was put on very strong medication. I had a 19 year-old son, a daughter of 14, and Elizabeth who was seven. I wasn’t capable of taking care of them and my family stepped in. My children missed their sister and their mam and dad. In later years my two oldest suffered with addiction problems.
I lost my child and couldn’t be there for the rest. I meet her schoolfriends with their children and I never stop wondering where would she be in her life today. Would she have had children?
Liz Bissett:
The day that is etched in my mind, is the day after ... It’s the day the joy of my first seven years slowly, slowly disappeared.
I didn’t understand what was wrong, why I felt this pain so very strong. And as I sat with all the people there, I wished they’d all just disappear. If they were gone then you’d come home, and everything would be as it was before.
I wish I could recall the times we spent together, you and I, but I had to lock them all away for fear that I might cause more pain. My grief with my memories I buried deep, they only surfaced in my sleep. My memories then are filled with mam, and minding her as best I can. To stop her crying for the child she lost, I can’t help but bear the cost.
I couldn’t even speak your name. The mention caused just so much pain. But I feel you with me every day and I see you in my children’s play. I know you guide us wherever we go and I love you more than words can show.