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OPINION
VOLUME 141, NUMBER 193
ISSN 0745-1091. Published daily.
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DANICA KIRKA
Associated Press
LONDON — To lose your
sister. Your son. Your legs.
Ten years after the sui-
cide bombings that killed 52
people on the London trans-
port network, survivors and
the loved ones of those who
died are still angry, grief
stricken and scarred.
But they share a resolve to
move forward, to deny the
extremists victory by get-
ting on with their lives.
Here are a few of their
recollections about the day
the capital’s morning com-
mute was rocked by bomb-
ings that crippled three
Underground trains and
ripped the top off a double-
decker bus.
My second life
On July 7, 2005, Gill Hicks
boarded the Underground at
King’s Cross and observed
etiquette unique to the
Tube. Commuters stand
millimeters from other
passengers without really
looking at them. She didn’t
notice the bomber. But she
knows now she was stand-
ing inches from him when
he detonated his backpack
on the Piccadilly Line.
“I think there’s a very
clear demarcation line,” said
Hicks, who lost both legs
below the knee. “So for me
July 7, 2005, was the end of
life number one, and every-
thing I knew in life number
one, and the beginning of
a very fortunate position
to have the gift of a sec-
ond life.”
Life number two began
when Hicks awoke in the
hospital. Chillingly, her
arm bracelet labeled her
“One Unknown.” She said it
made her see the brilliance
of humanity, as she had
been rescued in dangerous
conditions from wreckage
miles underground.
“What those words said
to me on my arm bracelet
was that people risked their
lives to come and save one
unknown — to come and
save as many one unknowns
as they could.” she said.
“And to me that is human-
ity, because they weren’t
selective. It didn’t matter
whether I had wealth or no
wealth. Whether I had a
faith or no faith. What the
color of my skin was. Indeed
what my gender was. Noth-
ing mattered other than I
was a precious human life.”
Hicks, 47, went from
b e i n g a w o r k a h o l i c
designer to a motiva-
tional speaker who also
runs the charity M.A.D.
(Making a Difference) for
Peace. The organization
tries to connect people
globally and encourage
them to think of peace
as a verb — an act of
individual responsibility
accomplished daily.
Hicks said people have
a responsibility to unite
against global extremism
and destructive ideologies.
But that doesn’t mean she
isn’t angry. She’s furious
in fact.
She tries to use the anger
as fuel for her projects —
jet propellant to keep her
motivated and moving for-
ward. She believes she has
no choice but to celebrate
the fact that she is here —
every day.
“As I stand here before
you now, I can’t feel the
ground,” she said of the
sensation of hovering on
artificial limbs. “I’ve had to
learn how to accept that I
can’t feel the ground, but I
am still upright.”
I will not allow
them to defeat me
Esther Hyman was at
work as a medical secretary
in Oxford when she heard
“something was going on”
in London.
Her sister Miriam, 32,
who had worked as a pic-
ture researcher in pub-
lishing, was on her way to
a meeting in the capital.
She had been evacuated
from the underground
after one of the explosions.
Her father managed to
speak with her briefly. She
told him she would stop
and take breather before
deciding whether to go to
the meeting.
When they hadn’t heard
from her by that evening,
the family became agitated.
Soon they were putting up
missing posters and visit-
ing hospitals. Four days
elapsed before they learned
the truth — that she had
jumped on a bus targeted in
the attacks.
In the years that followed,
Esther, now 46, considered
her options. She had to
make a decision.
“Am I going to allow this
to beat me? Am I going to
lose my life as well? Am
I going to allow them to
terrorize me, as they wish
to do, into submission?”
Esther said. “Or am I going
to survive, with my sanity
intact and do everything
within my arms reach to
address what happened?”
Caving in wasn’t really
an option.
“ M i m w o u l d n o t
approve,” she said.
The family established
a trust and equipped the
Miriam Hyman Children’s
Eye Care Center in Odisha,
India. It seemed fitting to
the family, because Miriam
got glasses as a teenager and
was shocked at what she
had been missing. She was
very visual, and was fasci-
nated to better see things in
nature, such as the intricacy
of leaves.
Together with the Uni-
versity College London
Institute of Education, the
trust has also developed
an educational program
that uses Miriam’s story
and her family’s reaction to
her death to prevent young
people from being drawn
into extremism of any kind.
Launched this week,
the trust hopes educators
around the world will use
the program, giving young
people an alternative nar-
rative to extremism.
It is never over
S t a v r o s M a ra n g o s
remembers the silence. One
of the first London Fire Bri-
gade members to respond to
the bus attack in Tavistock
Square, he was struck by
how the usual traffic, bustle
and chatter had disappeared
— replaced only by sirens
wailing in the distance.
“There was just an eerie
quiet,” he said.
His superiors warned
that there might be sec-
ondary explosive devices,
and said that anyone who
didn’t want to get off the
fire engine was free to stay.
No one did.
“It was like a scene
from a war film,” he said.
“There were unidentifiable
body parts strewn all over
the place.”
One person was still alive
on the bus, but there were
no more stretchers. Crews
used the top of a desk to
move the survivor into the
courtyard of the nearby
British Medical Association,
where doctors had gathered
to help the injured.
Ten years on, he can’t get
it out of his head.
“Day to day, when you are
busy, when you are engaged
doing things, it’s way in the
background. But every now
and again, it just creeps up,”
he said.“I’d like to give you a
quotation I heard from a film
abouttheDetroitFireDepart-
ment. There was a 32-year
veteran who was retiring and
he coined the phrase ‘I wish
my head could forget what
my eyes have seen.’”
A portion of your
soul ripped out
Grahame Russell didn’t
give much thought to the
first news of trouble on
the Underground because
early reports suggested
it was only a power out-
age. Around lunchtime
though, he got a call from
his son Philip’s office.
They had received a text
message from Philip, who
worked in finance, at
about 9:30 a.m., saying he
was going to get on a bus.
They hadn’t heard from
him since.
“We were just obviously
worried sick.” he said.
A police family liai-
son officer was soon
on the doorstep. Philip
was classified as “miss-
ing” for days. His fam-
ily identified his body on
what would have been his
29th birthday.
Ten years on, Grahame,
now 72, says he has stopped
trying to make sense of it.
“It’s very difficult,” he
said. “When you have a
portion of your soul ripped
out from you, you find life
very difficult. I find dif-
ficulty in reflecting and
thinking back. If I did
that all the time, I would
just collapse.”
Instead, Grahame has
thrown himself into a proj-
ect to create a more person-
alized memorial in Tavis-
tock Square, not just for
the victims but also for the
survivors and emergency
services personnel, many
of whom risked their lives
in uncertain situations to
reach the injured.
Touched by tragedy
Survivors and family members recall the London bombings
British London Fire Brigade Watch Manager Stavros
Marangos, who as a newly qualified firefighter was dis-
patched to the scene of the bus explosion in the 2005
London bombings, stands beside a plaque in memory
of those killed on Tavistock Square in London.
London
bombings
survivor Gill
Hicks, of
Australia,
who lost
both her
legs,
poses for a
portrait in
a courtyard
at the
British
Medical
Association
building in
London on
June 29.
(Associated
Press)
LEFT: Esther Hyman lost her sister Miriam to the
explosion on a bus in the 2005 London bombings.
RIGHT: Grahame Russell’s son Philip was also
killed by the explosion on a bus in the 2005 London
bombings.
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