The Memory Remains

Twenty years ago today, ninety-six Liverpool fans died at Hillsborough; I was two years old. I have read many articles covering the anniversary and the outpouring of emotions in the media for the last few weeks shows the fury, indignation and bitterness that people feel; it is always simmering. Reading about the event and the aftermath makes me furious and upset. These feelings come around for the majority of football fans at this time every year, but it is just inconcievable to try and imagine the feelings of those who survived the crush and those who saw it at the ground, like Alan Green, or on television, let alone the feelings of the families of the victims. This is with them every day and justice has still not been done for the ninety-six.

Someone must be held to account. Hillsborough was an accident waiting to happen, the South Yorkshire Police covered up their incompetence by altering the witness reports of junior officers and the men in command on the day have been close to exonerated thanks to malicious and unsubstantiated coverage at the time of the incident in addition to the enquiries in 1989 and 1998, which condemned police action but only two officers have been tried and no one has ever apologised. The families need closure and Gordon Brown and Jack Straw have denied it to them not once but twice.

David Conn's piece in this monday's Guardian shows just how much went wrong and how much is still to do.

For more on Hillsborough, Dr Phil Scraton's Hillsborough: The Truth is seen as the definitive account and is available here.

Words alone are not enough but awareness and remembrance will see justice done. Days like today make football itself insignificant, it has changed forever, for good and ill. There's nothing else to say.