IT’S difficult, sometimes, to comprehend how quickly the world can change in a matter of minutes.
Less than a week ago, Creeslough in Co Donegal was just another west of Ireland village, with unremarkable streetscapes and people going about their normal business.
And the normality of that business is what resonated with the world when news began to emerge of the terrible tragedy which occurred just after 3pm last Friday.
The first images that began to emanate from the scene were shocking in their starkness – the semi-collapsed service station forecourt, the debris, the destroyed vehicles, and the really shocking sight of the apartment building, with its façade completely blown away, having collapsed down on the shop below.
The sight of the little bedroom exposed to the world seemed to be a metaphor for how, in an instant, the ‘ordinary’ elements of life become extraordinary through the prism of tragedy.
And when the stories of these everyday people doing everyday things on a Friday afternoon started to emerge, that was when it hit home with almost every armchair observer: there for the grace of god ….
It could have been any one of us, or any one of our children, sisters, fathers, mothers, sons or brothers – getting that ice-cream, standing at that ATM, paying for that petrol or picking up something quickly in the post office.
The sight of the modest Applegreen station, the little adjacent shops, the few connected homes – it could have been any village in any county in Ireland.
While north west Donegal couldn’t be further from West Cork – there were still enough comparisons to bring it back home. The little village just miles from the coast which is just beginning to settle into winter after a busy summer season, on the Wild Atlantic Way, mirroring many similar villages in West Cork; the recently arrived immigrants, the young career girl home for the weekend to start a new job on the island, the teenage friends planning a sleepover, the local popular sports people, already household names in their own social circles.
Many observers wondered why the country had reacted so strongly to the tragedy – even despite the huge death toll and not forgetting, of course, almost as many badly injured.
And how, despite the atrocities of war on the other side of Europe, and the political turmoil of our nearest neighbours, our hearts were firmly rooted in Donegal this week.
‘Up here, it’s different’ is a motto often repeated by the county’s folk. A northern county, but not in Northern Ireland, it’s position in the most north-westerly corner of the Republic means Donegal folk often feel ‘other’, and regularly believe they are the country’s forgotten folk.
The battles they have fought for health services, transport (they are not connected by rail) and their ongoing campaign for mica redress have forged a strong, but beautiful bond among their county folk. As tough as the Atlantic winds that lash their coastline, they are also a soft, beautiful people – you only have to listen to the beautiful pronunciation of Creeslough – our hard southern ‘lough’ is instead a gentle whisper that almost rhymes with ‘low’.
And when help was needed it came to them in droves. Within minutes of the tragedy unfolding, hundreds of people descended on the village, population 400, to do whatever they could – and emergency services were instantly despatched from Northern Ireland, because there was no border last Friday afternoon.
For all their usual feelings of isolation, this week saw the wonderful people of Donegal gathered into a national embrace and a sincere warmth that must have, even slightly, helped them navigate this horrific ordeal. Let’s hope the warmth and love gives them the ability to face the future with strength and fortitude.
