Stardust year in review: Harrowing accounts of a night that will live long in the collective Dublin memory

The jury in the Stardust inquests began their Christmas break this week having just viewed footage of the horrors that unfolded at the north Dublin nightclub in the early hours of February 14th, 1981.

The scenes outside the club, filmed by RTÉ but not broadcast, were played on Thursday to the 13-person jury without sound. They included still-smouldering bodies being removed from the ballroom by Dublin Fire Brigade, lying on the ground and hosed gently.

Families of some of the 48 people, aged 16 to 27, who died in the fire, were present in court and became upset as the footage, described by Dublin coroner Myra Cullinane as “very difficult” but “important”, was shown.

The fresh inquests into the deaths have been under way at the Dublin Coroner’s Court, sitting in the Pillar Room on the campus of the Rotunda Hospital. The inquests have been ongoing since April when, in early testimony, bereaved families delivered moving and deeply personal memories of their loved ones in pen portraits.

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Since May, evidence has been organised into four modules; the first comprised about 80 witnesses who had been involved in the 1977-78 refurbishment of the old jam factory in Artane into the Stardust venue, or who managed or worked there.

Since September, the inquests have heard from more than 100 witnesses in modules two and three: patrons on the night who experienced the blaze and members of the public who saw it and emergency responders including Dublin Fire Brigade, ambulance workers and gardaí.

Among key facts established so far is that the fire was first seen inside the ballroom as a “small fire” in an area of tiered seating known as the west alcove at about 1.40am. It spread with extreme rapidity up the carpet-tiled walls, racing over the suspended ceiling and engulfing the ballroom within four to five minutes.

The ceiling appears to have melted as “droplets of flame” fell like “showers of fire”. The blaze produced thick, hot, black smoke described as having a texture, like “chewing gum” or “soot”.

The temperature in the ballroom appears to have been inordinately high — people described their hands “melting” and feeling their “eyeballs were melting”.

Firemen arriving on the scene within minutes said by then it was already too late. Dermot Dowdall, a 26-year-old firefighter with Dublin Fire Brigade at the time, arrived at 1.49am — about six minutes after the first 999 call. The fire had already “largely vented itself”, he said, and most of those killed had already died at that stage.

“The fire essentially reached its peak very, very quickly before a brigade ever got there,” he said.

William McQuaid, a third officer attached to the Dublin Fire Brigade at Tara Street station on the night, said: “There was something in that building that contributed to the fast spread [of the blaze].“

When it came to the location of the source of the fire, evidence was heard from several witnesses living metres from the club who saw significant flames through the roof before fire was first spotted inside, suggesting it may have started in the space between the ceiling and the roof.

These fresh inquests are being held following a December 2019 direction by then attorney general Séamus Woulfe. Though inquests were held, over five days, in 1982 they were regarded as perfunctory by the families, returning only medical causes of death.

The 1981 tribunal of inquiry into the disaster, chaired by Mr Justice Ronan Keane, sat for 122 days reporting in 1982. Its key finding — that the “probable explanation of the fire is that it was caused deliberately” — was removed from the public record in 2009 by the Oireachtas.

The finding, which caused huge distress to the families and their communities who rejected it, enabled the companies owned by the Butterly family, which owned the Stardust, in 1983 to claim compensation of £581,000 from then Dublin Corporation for malicious damage.

In his 2019 letter to Dr Cullinane, Mr Woulfe said in a disaster of “such magnitude” not only were the families entitled “to the public revelation of the facts” but so too “the community as a whole” should be satisfied “sufficient inquiry” is held “to maximise the chances that the truth should emerge”.

It is clear from the evidence that planning and fire-safety regulations were erratically adhered to during refurbishment of the former food factory into a nightclub and when open.

The almost 3,000 carpet tiles used to line the internals walls, sourced from a Bradford supplier that was selling them off cheap, which were key in the rapid spread of the blaze, did not meet fire-safety standards stipulated by Dublin Corporation as a condition of planning. How and why the Butterly family was able to put them on walls is disputed by parties.

Almost none of those working at the Stardust had formal fire safety or emergency training. Awareness of the existence of fire regulations by management was lacking.

The Stardust had a long-standing policy of making exit doors appear locked by draping chains over the panic bars, and since December 1980 of keeping them locked until about 11.30pm on disco nights — in contravention of bylaws and repeated warnings by Dublin Corporation. On whose direction this policy was introduced is disputed.

Toilet windows, which the inquests heard could have been a means of escape, had been sealed shut with metal plates and bars weeks before the fire, to stop patrons passing in alcohol or “weapons”, said Butterly who denies they were viable fire escapes.

It remains unclear whether all six, or how many, of the exits were locked at the time of the fire. Butterly, throughout his eight days in the witness box, insisted all had been unlocked at 11.30pm.

Doormen contradicted each other and sometimes themselves on this. Just one, former deputy head of security Leo Doyle, said after four days in the witness box, he believed he “made a right boo-boo ... the doors were locked. They must have been.”

Patron after patron however — of whom more than 100 testified — said at least four exits were locked, obstructed and impossible to open without force.

Mark Swaine, 18 at the time, said of exit three: “There were five or six fellas in front of me and two or three girls ... They were shouting, ‘get that chain off the door for f**k sake’. They were also kicking the door.”

Christine Carr, 16 at the time, described holding the shoulders of a tall friend to keep herself off the ground and from being trampled in the foyer approaching exit two.

“It was the crush of the crowd that pulled me up further. The lights were still on and I looked behind me. Under the door smoke was coming in. The lights went off so I held my breath,” she said.

“Then I had to breathe and it was like tyres. It was hot and there was substance to it. It was like ash. And I am dangling and the only thing I can move is my head; my arms and all were confined. Then I had to breathe again and then I thought: ‘This is when I am going to die.’ I remember my mouth was open, my head was going back and my eyes were rolling and I remember saying: ‘Oh mammy, daddy I am going to die’,” she said.

Similar descriptions of panicked attempts to ram and kick at exits four and five were heard.

There was upsetting testimony of friends losing friends in the panic at exits. Tina Brazil, who was 17 at the time of the fire, was with Caroline Bisset (18) from Ringsend who died. They got to the area around exits four and five. “I held Carol’s hand ... I had her hand. Then I had her wrists and then it was like we broke away. I think I was carried forwards and she was carried back. There was too many people,” she told the court last month.

Many witnesses, including emergency responders, became upset. Firemen, some in their 20s at the time, described finding remains so “mutilated” by the flames they could not recognise whether they were male or female.

Noel Keegan, a 30-year-old Dublin Fire Brigade fireman at the time, recovered one body from inside exit number six on the left.

In a note he had planned to read to the inquests, but was too upset to, he said the Stardust had “damaged” and “injured” many people beyond those who died.

“The families of those who survived are also victims ... But just to keep in mind that the emergency personnel who attended on the night are also victims ... From a personal point of view, I often wondered what type of person I would have been had I not experienced that night? What kind of husband, father, son, brother and friend I might have been?” he said.

The inquest resumes in January, with module four comprising witnesses with expertise in fire and pathology. They will be drawn on the key questions the jury must answer: how, where and when did the fire start? How and why 48 young people died after a small fire was spotted at 1.40am on a seat? And, whether and how their deaths could have been prevented.

It is hoped their work, in the most extensive inquest in the history of the State, can be completed before the 43rd anniversary of one of its worst disasters.

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