'The Stardust fire ripped through the core of our beings': families tell inquest of ongoing grief

Members of the Keegan family (L to r) Suzanne, Antoinette and Lorraine at the Garden of Remembrance in Dublin's City Centre. before the Coroners Court inquest into the Stardust tragedy at the Roundroom in the Rotunda Hospital.

“Like a tornado, the Stardust fire ripped through the core of our beings, wreaking havoc and utter devastation in its wake, leaving nothing untouched, be it our home, our lives, our relationships, our education, our future, our outlook on life, in fact, our everything.”

Those words of grieving mother Gertrude Barrett, mother of Michael Barrett, began the opening of the long-awaited and fervently-sought fresh inquests for the 48 people who died in the Stardust fire. It was a day when tears of 42 years' worth of agony and pain spilled out at Dublin District Coroner's Court. 

“A mother’s grief is as timeless as her love,” the court was told as women who lost their sons and daughters all those years ago took to the podium to deliver pen portraits — the sketches of who their loved ones were, their hopes, and their dreams. 

Michael Barrett died in the Stardust nightclub fire in Dublin in 1981.

“I will never get over losing Michael in such an appalling way,” Gertrude Barrett said of her 17-year-old son. “Never. I’m forever haunted by the thoughts of his final moments. What were his last words? Did he call out for help? How frightened was he? Did he know he was going to die?"

The Pillar Room at the Rotunda, where thousands came to watch Constance Markievicz lie in State nearly 100 years ago, marked a fitting venue for such a historic occasion — an occasion when the families of those who lost their loved ones in one of Ireland’s worst tragedies finally took centre stage.

Friday, February 13, 1981, had been a typical night at the Stardust. Hundreds of young people had come for a drink and a dance. But 48 of them never came home, and the ripples that each of those lives touched became a wave, a tsunami that devastated a community. Not only that, but they also still don’t have answers to how their loved ones died 42 years on.

They hope these inquests can be the means to answer those questions once and for all.

Just like for both Ballymurphy and Hillsborough, families got the chance to give a voice to their beloved family member at the beginning of these inquests through the delivery of pen portraits.

'A bad dream, someone else’s nightmare'

Carol Bissett was 18. She was quiet in her own way, but was into music and was in the school choir. “If you had a friend in Carol, you had a friend for life,” her mother Betty told the court.

“When the terrible news came, we couldn’t take it in. A bad dream, someone else’s nightmare. She was in hospital, she died three days later. She was alone. I wasn’t there to hold her hand or tell her that I love her.” 

Michael Barrett was the oldest of four siblings. A Liverpool and Dublin fan, he had gotten to see the Dubs at Croke Park, but would never get to see the Reds in Anfield.

“It saddens us to our core, he never got the chance to fulfill his potential,” his mother said. "A life ended before it even had a chance to begin.

"Although we have learned to live with it, it lived with us. This is how it’ll be until we take our last breath."