Devastation 'too much to take in'

The Pan Am wreckage was carefully pieced together following the tragedy

By Willie Johnston BBC Scotland

The call came a couple of minutes after impact from a friend who lives just outside Lockerbie.

She watched the huge fireball light up the night sky. She heard the bang. She had no idea what had happened, but it looked bad.

At home I tuned my radio to the emergency frequencies to find out what was going on.

(That was technically illegal, albeit common practice in those days. Today's secure communication systems make it impossible.)

The first Lockerbie reference I heard was "gas explosion in Park Place"; minutes later another one suggested "a military jet crash". I was on my way.

I arrived at eight o'clock, parked near the cemetery and continued on foot. From the A74 flyover I gazed onto a scene of devastation.

I remember the stench of aviation fuel, the oppressive heat and suppressive blanket of smoke

The journalist's instinct was to get as close to the inferno as possible, so I set about negotiating back gardens and met another reporter along the way.

I remember looking through windows at people watching TV for news of what was happening, almost literally, on their doorstep.

They didn't realise the people trying to get that news to them were scrambling about their flower beds.

We emerged onto Main Street somewhere near Townfoot Garage which, a policeman told us, was in danger of exploding. We beat a retreat back up Main Street.

It was only around this point that I found out that it wasn't a military jet that had crashed, but a Pan-Am jumbo. It was too much to take in.

It was only in the morning the full impact on the town could be seen

I remember the stench of aviation fuel, the oppressive heat and suppressive blanket of smoke. I remember the line of redundant ambulances by the Town Hall.

So far I had managed to record only a few vox pops with some townsfolk so, on my way back over the flyover, I paused again to look down on Sherwood.

I talked into my microphone, describing what I could see, recalling what I had seen. That tape led the 10 o'clock radio news.

Smile again

Later, I recall the utter devastation and desolation of Sherwood, like the smoking aftermath of a nuclear holocaust; the heartbreak of funerals; the respectful repatriation of foreign victims; the poignancy of church services and the erection and dedication of memorials; the visits of politicians and royalty; the stories, sometimes heroic but often hellish, of ordinary and extraordinary people.

Later still, there was Ed's Party when Lockerbie dared to smile again, the privilege of getting to know some of the bereaved families, the inspiration of characters like Father Pat Keegans, with whom I travelled to America for the unveiling of the Lockerbie Cairn in Arlington National Cemetery.

And then the drama of the trial at Camp Zeist in the Netherlands and the first appeal of Abdelbasset Ali al-Megrahi.

But there is more to come. As we approach the 20th anniversary, to mourn again and reflect on one of the most terrible events in modern history, we are painfully aware that it is a story not yet fully told.

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