'I blamed the world for my loss'

A son who was just six when his father was among the 167 men killed in the Piper Alpha North Sea platform disaster 20 years ago tells his story for the first time to BBC Scotland news website reporter Ken Banks.

Darren Miller (left), who now lives in America with his family, was six when his father Alan David Miller died on Piper Alpha

I was six years old when Piper Alpha exploded, the eldest of three children.

My dad, Alan David Miller, was one of the 167 people who died that night.

I have never told anyone my thoughts about Piper, my dad, or the 20 years which have followed, but this is my story.

I vividly remember the early morning hours of 7 July, 1988.

As I did every morning, I woke very early and turned on the television in our living room, looking for an episode of Batman to watch with my brother.

I remember seeing news footage of the burning platform, but not knowing at the time what it was or what it meant.

In the years to come, I would be told that I didn't watch the television that morning, but I remember recounting later to my grandparents what I saw and them telling me that my description was exactly what happened.

I dropped a flower on top of his coffin and said goodbye

I don't remember my mum telling my brother and sister and I that dad was on that rig, in fact, I remember very little from Piper and before. Perhaps I have blocked out memories, but I can't be sure.

I treasure the few memories of dad that I have - taking me to get ready for my auntie's wedding, punishing me for telling my brother to throw puddle water over a girl living across the street, chasing me down the street so incredibly quickly when I wouldn't get in the car to go home from visiting a friend's house, and teaching me to ride my first real bike along the street on which we lived.

The rest, for me, is a blur.

My brother and sister are younger, yet they tell me they have many more memories than I have listed. I am happy for them, because my lack of memories is a lasting source of sadness for me.

I do, however, remember saying goodbye.

'Anger subsided'

I remember dad's funeral. I remember fighting back the tears the whole way through, being brave for my mum and siblings, until I dropped a flower on top of his coffin and said goodbye.

I have visited the grave many times, the black headstone engraved with a gold oil rig, sitting at the top of a wind-swept cemetery in Orkney.

But, I never know what to say. So I just sit, quietly, knowing that if I close my eyes I will be brought back to that day once again.

Piper Alpha remains the world's worst offshore oil industry disaster

The years since Piper have brought with them many emotions.

Initially I was angry, angry that my dad had been taken, angry that now my life experience set me apart from my friends.

Subconsciously, I think I blamed the world for my loss, so I shut people out, convinced myself that now I could only rely on myself, and my 'me against the world' attitude caused no end of resentment among my peers.

But, over the years, the anger has subsided, replaced by the tugs of responsibility, of sadness, and of guilt.

As the eldest of three siblings, I have always felt an overwhelming responsibility to fill the role my dad would have played.

That burden of responsibility is one I have struggled with.

'Tremendous relief'

Since the age of six, every choice I've made has been driven by the need in me to be a perfect role model for my brother and sister.

But that need has been coupled with the desire to simply be a kid, to not have the shadow of Piper looming over me.

I have felt the burden of responsibility of continuing my father's family line.

Thankfully, I have been blessed with two sons, the first born early enough so that my dad's mum could meet him as she fought against cancer. As well as the tremendous joy associated with the birth of a child, I felt tremendous relief.

The sadness is overwhelming at times.

Hopefully, this 20th anniversary will trigger a renewed focus on oil industry safety, not only in the North Sea but around the world

It is the sadness of a son whose father never had the chance to be a grandfather to his grandsons, or to see the father his son has become.

It is the sadness of not really knowing what your father was like. It is the sadness and guilt that comes along with wondering what might have been had Piper not happened, and what might not.

Of course, everyone wishes Piper had never happened, but it did, and life went on afterwards, people moved on, even if they couldn't forget. I have a brother who would not have been born had Piper not happened, a wife who I perhaps would not have met, and two sons I might not now know.

It is an awful dichotomy to be faced with, that which is and that which might have been. So, in many respects, I try not to look back and wonder about what ifs. For me, the guilt in looking back is too much.

'Good sign'

At my dad's memorial service, one of my aunties challenged the oil industry to provide a fitting tribute to the Piper victims by improving safety so no-one else had to endure the pain of losing loved ones as we did. And, to a large extent, I think the industry has done so.

Safety has undoubtedly improved. Universities here in the US are using the example of Piper as a tool to teach students how to prevent the same mistakes in the future. And, for that, I am grateful.

Yet recent years have seen offshore incidents which, while thankfully not being on a Piper scale, have raised the possibility of Piper once again.

Even from the US, I have watched with bated breath, hoping that the world would not witness a repeat of that night. And that it has not must be a good sign.

Nonetheless, the fact there is still concern means that there is still work to be done.

Hopefully, this 20th anniversary will trigger a renewed focus on oil industry safety, not only in the North Sea but around the world.

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