The OTHER January 6th

Everyone knows about the events that took place on Jan 6th 2021 in Washington DC and plenty has been written about it. I wanted to talk to about another January 6th which held a lasting impact on my life.

I’m talking about January 6th 1976 and it changed my life in ways I didn’t really understand at the time.

Things happened on January 5th, in the early evening of a dark January night, but the full horror fully emerged on the 6th.

January 5th was when the Kingsmill massacre occurred in County Armagh, Northern Ireland, during the Troubles. Ten Protestant workers were killed by the South Armagh Republican Action Force, a cover name for the Provisional IRA. The victims, textile workers traveling home in a minibus, were ambushed, lined up, and shot, mostly in the back One Catholic worker was spared, and one Protestant survived despite severe injuries. No perpetrators were ever convicted, though investigations pointed to IRA involvement. The massacre remains a stark symbol of the Troubles’ brutality.

Now, most of the murdered men lived in the little village that I had lived in as a child -Bessbrook. This is a little Quaker village founded in 1845, a smaller version of Bournville if you will. Several of the murdered men attended the same Church as my family. I knew them all in passing but one of them had been my Sunday School teacher, John Bryans. He was 50 when he was killed. 50. I remember him as a kind, intelligent and deeply Christian man. I still can’t believe what they did to him and have read the inquest details which make me feel ill to this day.

I won’t repeat the details

I had been close friends with his son, Tom. Tom’s mother had died of cancer some years earlier so he and his sister became orphans that night. How must that make you feel? I visited them at their elderly relatives house the next day as the scale of the tragedy became clear. What do to say to someone who has had their dad shot to death? I have vivid memories of that day and it felt surreal as he and I tried to almost make light of the tragedy. Young people can’t assimilate grief like adults.

My father was a telephone operator in the nearby exchange and he picked up on what was unfolding that dark January night and was able to tell my mother. It dawned on us all that a terrible thing had just happened . By morning, January 6th, we all knew. There was a hush all over the village, it seemed the birds stopped singing.

Ever since then, I have been profoundly and implacable opposed to terrorism and I suspect my strong political views have their origin from that time. I can never forget that January 6th.

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