The inquests into the deaths of the 48 young people who died in the Stardust fire in Artane, Dublin in 1981 feature pen portraits of each of the deceased read by bereaved family members. Find all of the portraits and more coverage here.
Mary was the eldest of eight children ... born on the 14th of June 1961 in St Mary’s Hospital, Manchester.
[She] was really beautiful inside and out. She was a loving, caring, compassionate, fun loving, very sociable but shy, witty and extremely intelligent sister we were all blessed to have in our family.
Mary sat her Intermediate Certificate in 1977 and achieved six honours and two passes. She went on to do her Leaving Certificate in 1979 and gained all honours.
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She had great ambitions ... left school and went on to further herself once again, this time she secured a course in typing. After ... she went on to get a brilliant job in RTV Rentals. Her job title was receptionist-sales assistant-cashier.
Every opportunity she got [for] overtime [she took] ... to give extra money to our parents to help.
My dad worked in Cadbury’s on nights as a fitter’s mate. On Friday 13th February ... a colleague came up to him, to tell him about the Stardust going on fire. My dad went straight home. [He] went straight up the stairs checked the boys’ room where my brother John was. Then into my mam ... and woke her and asked her was the girls home ... My mother ... ran into their bedroom where there were three empty beds.
They both went to the Stardust ... They were told by the garda to check hospitals, which they did and only found Antoinette.
They spent all day Saturday and Sunday in the city morgue and at 6pm they were handed two plastic bags – one containing Mary’s necklace burned beyond recognition ... and the other containing Martina’s rings also burned beyond recognition, the only identification visible was the signet ring which still bore the initials MK.
My mother asked could she see her daughters and was told, ‘The coffin is closed’ ... to just remember them the way they were.
Our house was never the same again. There was nothing but arguments. We were all falling apart, no one there to help us. We depended on our parents to keep us together, but they were falling apart with grief. At night we would all hear our ma and da crying.
I would sit on the doorstep every day waiting for Mary to come home, for months after ... I was only three. I couldn’t understand why Mary never came home. For years after I asked my ma and da where Mary and Martina were. My mam told me they were working for holy God up in heaven. My ma always told me it was like Butlins. I would reply, ‘Can we go and visit them? When are they coming back?’
Growing up as young children to teenagers, we never witnessed our da crying. We always believed our da was the strong man but seeing him falling apart ... was soul-destroying for all of us.
My mam passed away on the 14th of July 2020. [She] died without knowing when this inquest was going to happen. It is heartbreaking ... our ma is not here ... after all she done to get us to where we are today.