“I can now only start to talk about it.”
The words of Paul Edwards, 51, who found himself in the Leppings Lane end during the Hillsborough disaster.
The semi-final was meant to be a major reunion for ‘the wider family’ who all shared their love for Liverpool.
“The party was about 12 (people), cousins, brothers, dad, uncles. It was a big family day out, and going to the match was something we did passionately”.
For the Edwards family (like many families across Merseyside and the world), football was more than just a hobby, it was a passion that was passed down through generations since the pre-war era.
The game was meant to be like any other away tie. Meet up at the pub, have a couple of bevvies before the game, go the match, and discuss it afterwards. Everything did seem normal at first when they met up for a drink in a local pub before the game; until an argument broke out between Paul’s brother Steven and one of his mates about what time to set off to the ground.
“My brother knowing we had tickets wanted to stay because he knew we would get in, whilst his friend who was tee-total wanted to go early and soak in the atmosphere.”
In Paul’s words, Steven’s friend won the argument because he was driving, and it was quite fortunate that he did.
Upon arriving at the ground, Paul knew there was something wrong, having seen Liverpool play previously in the 1988 and 1980 semi-finals at Hillsborough. Whilst Edwards remembered ‘not liking the Leppings Lane end’ when watching Liverpool v Arsenal in 1980 to the point he insisted to his dad to get seated tickets for the game against Forest; he knew from those games that something was awry.
“The first thing I noticed was there weren’t any queues. There were six turnstiles back then, and I remember 12 months ago walking past and there being six queues with police in between, this time there was nothing; just a mass of people. I remember a kid at the front screaming, and was actually pinned against the wall, and someone had to drag him down and push him towards the turnstile. There was a wall between each turnstile, so if you were lucky you would hit the turnstile and get in.”
Paul was fortunate enough to hit a turnstile, after getting in, the first person he saw was a police officer frisking for knives.
“I remember remonstrating with him, and physically putting my hands on him; you would never touch a police officer at a match so he looked at me almost in bemusement that I did it. However, his attention was quickly drawn to two fans who had climbed the surrounding wall to escape the crush, and I saw his expression become fearful; almost as if he twigged what was going on.”
Upon reaching the terrace, Paul twigged the gravitas of the situation as he saw the central pen ‘totally crushed’; what was more concerning for him at the time though was the thousands behind who were still getting into the ground. It was a thought that made him decide to move as far back and left as he can to get out of the wave of people.
It would be futile however, as Peter Beardsley’s shot in the fourth minute created a massive rush of people, so much so that Paul ended up back where he started,
“That’s when I really started to panic and think ‘I’ve got to get out of here’.”
By this point, the game became almost a distraction rather than the main event.
“I didn’t want to focus on the game because I knew that if I didn’t, I could maneuver my way outside the crush and either climb over the perimeter fence or onto the West Stand.“
Eventually deciding the latter, his escape is now probably one of the most shown moments of the tragedy. The school teacher can clearly be seen on the archive footage of that day, adorn in a burgundy sweater and jeans as he desperately tried to reach the upper level.
“I got pulled up the back wall. Two people have a hold of each of my arms, and pull me up. However, the man who hold one of them lets go of me, and I dangle from the wall, the BBC camera then picks me up because it’s an action shot, fortunately the man who had hold of my other arm managed to pull me up; it looks dramatic now when you see it, but it wasn’t the true story of fans being crushed and dying at the front of the pen.”
Paul had managed to get out of danger, but his family were unable to find him. His brother was separated from him in the pen and managed to get onto the pitch with his two friends and his family were seated in the North Stand. Perhaps the most haunting moments of this hour long search was when his brother started to look at the dead bodies; fearing the worst.
“I remember him saying to me he never thought of the stand above, in his mind I was either on the pitch, in the terrace or dead.”
Whilst his family and friends continued to search for him, Paul made a deal with fellow supporter who managed to climb their way onto the stand that they would both shout out if they saw one of their relatives.
“I remember after a while he said to me ‘there’s no way they’re going to find me up here. So he almost instinctively jumped over the wall back into the pen.”
After his brother’s third check of the Leppings Lane end, the pair eventually found each other on the upper tier, and eventually left the ground to head back to the car; still in shock about what hap just happened.
“Whilst I was waiting for them (his other family members and friends), two lads drove past in a sports convertible and had the radio on. I remember asking them ‘how did Everton get on?’ They both looked at me like ‘are you mad?’, and I was thinking ‘what are you looking like that for’ and was starting to get agitated. Eventually, one of them said flatly ‘they won 1-0 mate’ and drove off. I look back now and realize I was trying to normalise things. Meanwhile, I was hearing on the radio about the number who died and was almost experiencing two worlds, the world of what had happened; and the one where it normally happens.“
Eventually reunited with his friends and family and returning to Slough, the gravity of what when on began to sink in.
“I remember asking the people who I went with how they slept. I couldn’t get to sleep for hours because I was reliving and trying to make sense of everything in my mind. The next morning, they all went to play their Sunday league game, so they carried on as normal until the Monday when they went back to work and then it hit them; it hit us all gradually over the following week.”
Paul, who was fairly new to his job in Slough, recalled ‘not having anyone to talk to about that day’ and ‘getting nightmares long after the game had taken place’.
It was a time of immense emotion for Paul who struggled to cope with the feelings of anger, guilt and disappointment.
“I remember being in a pub the week after and someone saying to me ‘someone’s cracked a joke about Hillsborough’ and uncommonly for me, I was out my seat over there in his face. I remember being physically shaken with anger and ready to attack him, which was out of character for me because usually if there was trouble we’d go somewhere else.“
The idea of someone surviving such a tragedy caught me off guard, It was the first time, to my knowledge, someone who survived the tragedy or any tragedy for that matter being disappointed; when I asked him about this Paul explained.
“I thought I should have done more, if you imagine being a kid when something bad happens you want to be the hero who is saving people, but I wasn’t; I got scared, panicked and wanted to get out of there, that came as a disappointment to me because you just wanted to get out, not thinking of others.”
It was this answer that opened my eyes a little to the mental grief and torture that those who survived Hillsborough went through; the damage to mental health caused, and potentially the suffering people went through not seeking medical advice because of the cover up that took place.
Whilst the focus was quite rightly on those who died and their families, those who lived suffered greatly as well, dealing first hand with the aftereffects of witnessing such a tragedy. From my perspective of being born after the disaster had occurred; it makes me feel ignorant to the fact that I only thought about the grief of the families of the dead.
This grief and feelings of anger made Paul leave Slough and travel the world. He went to America and China spending six years living in both.
“That was like a healing process for me. People thought I would come back because I loved football too much and it was a part of my life. But I didn’t want to become a slave to it, and I’m not going to risk my life going to football. It was great for everyone involved that we finally got justice, but I couldn’t keep up with it because it made me angry and is changing my personality so I need to just get away from it.”
It was an escape for Paul, who could now begin to live again and be free from the strong emotions he still felt months after that day.
“I remember talking to a fellow survivor 12 years later and I’d missed the anniversary without realizing. I was in northwest China at the time so it wasn’t reported as much. I remember him saying ‘How could you ever forget that day?’, but I couldn’t keep up the fight and have the absolute respect and admiration for those who have.“
