Even though I know the general story about the massacre by the British Army of eleven people, 47 years ago in Ballymurphy, Dermott Hill and Whiterock Road - known as ‘The Ballymurphy Massacre’ - and I had heard family members speak about their harrowing experiences, there was something profoundly different sitting in courtroom number 12, in Belfast’s law courts last week at the start of the inquest into the massacre.
Courtroom number 12, had become a safe space, a refuge for deeply traumatised families to speak, in the knowledge that their very public pain would be heard with respect, understanding and dignity.
In the midst of the children, grandchildren and great grandchildren of those killed, I saw and listened, as the formal legal system – which did so much, over decades, to add to the families’ hurt - helped them present their tragedy with care and compassion.
Padraig Ó Muirighí, the solicitor who represents ten of the families, said it was his primary concern that the courtroom was a place where the families could relax, give their account of the massacre and feel that they were part of the court process, involved in it, not as observers, but fully accepted participants.
He was keen to ensure that the families could present to the Coroner, Siobhan Keegan, her legal advisers and representatives of the alleged killers - the British Ministry of Defence - their memories of their loved ones, the circumstances of their killing and the impact those deaths had on family members.
Family-prepared statements were used during the inquiries into the Hillsborough Stadium disaster, where 96 people died and several hundred were injured, and in the Grenfell Tower fire inquiry which caused 72 deaths with scores of people injured.
Family statements were used in last week’s inquest to bring out the character and the unique traits of the individuals so cruelly and callously killed on their own streets and then demonised by the British military, politicians and the legal system as ‘gunmen and gunwomen’.
The families’ statements spoke about loss – loss of a loved one; the empty space at special family events, what might have been; loss of memory; memories stolen, everything turning black; families torn apart by the never-ending pain of grief; broken lives ended prematurely by grief; a nightmare you never wake up from; lives taken and lies told to cover up; left to deal with sudden loss with no help; trying to get answers to questions; the innocent dead, maligned; justice and truth needed.
One relative, was told by a British soldier, when she asked if her father was arrested, they had “no time for arrests, only had time for killing”.
Over several days these words and others were spoken in courtroom number 12 amidst the sounds of sobbing and crying. Red-eyed relatives in huddles, embraced and soothed each other.
And the Coroner and court officials assisted, through composure breaks, for all to gather themselves and draw breath.
Such official compassion was a long way from another courtroom, in another time, when the presiding judge told Belle Teggart, the widow of Danny, and a mother of 13 children, seeking compensation for her husband’s death: “Well Mrs Teggart, you were getting 19 pounds a week when your husband was alive. Now you are getting 24 pounds a week widow’s pension and you don’t have him to keep. You are getting extra money and you have one less mouth to feed''.
Such callous comments might not be heard today but flagrant abuse of relatives by state agencies (like the PSNI and the MOD) seeking truth and justice is often the norm in Belfast courts.
On the day that I visited the inquest with six members of Seanad Eireann who were there to support the families, the Teggart family were also grieving for the death of their 15-year-old brother Bernard on his 45th anniversary. The IRA had shot Bernard claiming he was an informer. In a process involving Relatives for Justice, the IRA in 2004 apologised and said that Bernard was not an informer.
The justice system has changed significantly over the years as a result of the peace process and the changes it brought to the system.
Human rights lawyers, representing families, regularly achieve justice.
The families in courtroom number 12 are hoping their time has come for the long-denied justice and truth they are seeking.