A community unites in grief

The three Latvian men who died on a quiet Co Donegal road came here to work when their country joined the EU, writes Carl O'Brien…

The three Latvian men who died on a quiet Co Donegal road came here to work when their country joined the EU, writes Carl O'Brien

The distraught father took the Latvian passport from the inside jacket of his son's body, which lay slumped across the mountain stream. With tormented eyes, and unable to express himself in English, he flicked the booklet open and pointed to a page with a photograph. The date of birth read August 1985. His son, Danis Sters, was just 18 years old when he died.

"It was a heart-rending sight," says Father Con McGloughlin, the local priest who was at the scene of the car crash at Gráinne's Gap, a lonely valley road a few miles outside Buncrana, Co Donegal.

"Here was a father, looking at his son in the stream, so many thousands of miles from home, not able to speak the language."

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The red Ford Fiesta in which the young man was travelling hit the parapet of a bridge with such force that the car was catapulted into the hillside. His two friends, Janis Rogis (21) and Maris Valbe (22), lay dead in the mangled wreckage of the car. A fourth passenger, also Latvian, managed to stagger from the wreckage and was taken to hospital by a neighbour. He survived.

The four young men, and Danis's father, had come to Ireland just a few weeks earlier, after Latvia's entry into the European Union. Like many migrant workers from Eastern Europe, they heard of the low-skilled but well-paid jobs on offer. They were wide-eyed and confident, according to locals, regarding the experience as an adventure rather than just an exercise in saving money for their families back home.

"You'd hear them speaking loudly, compared to the Donegal accent," recalls Josephine McKinney of Inishowen Engineering, a metal fabricator firm where two of the men worked.

"They had strong voices - how you'd imagine Latvians to be, I suppose. They were very hard workers and were popular with all the staff here. Maris even joined the company football team."

The group had quickly become well-known in the area, and enthusiastically tracked Latvia's faltering progress in the European Championships in The Rock, a pub a few miles from Buncrana. They were part of a group of around eight Latvians, most of whom knew each other from the towns where they grew up in western Latvia.

Two of the group, Danis Sters and Maris Valbe, found jobs as production-line employees of Inishowen Engineering. Danis's father also found work at the plant, while Janis Rogis worked there briefly before finding other work at a local plant hire firm.

Danis, the youngest, stood out. He was bright and enthusiastic, working in one of his first jobs since finishing his mandatory training stint in the Latvian army.

"I think he was excited about being in a new country, and being able to go out," says McKinney. "He was just 18. His English wasn't the best and he struggled a wee bit with the Donegal accent, but he was flying at work."

One of his Latvian colleagues, Oskar, recalls meeting Danis during army training a year ago.

"He was a big, popular guy back then. We just became friends. He would keep the money he earned, keep some and send the rest to his family.

"We just came here to look for better wages. It was much different to Latvia. The people were very nice to us here as well and we didn't worry about money. It was a different place."

Danis's father, who shared a house in Meenaward with his son, had little or no English. He was quieter, according to colleagues, spending more time working whatever hours were available.

Janis Rogis and Maris Valbe shared a house nearby with other friends. Janis was the most outgoing of the three, and his voice could often be heard echoing around the workshop. Maris, on the other hand, was quieter but made an effort to mix with others by playing on the company football team.

"They were good, honest workers and very helpful to everyone," the manager of Inishowen Engineering, Michael McKinney told the Derry Journal. "They were typical of young fellas their age and enjoyed the football and the craic like everyone else."

When news of the car crash began to filter through on the Saturday morning, the plant fell into a shocked and sombre silence.

"One of the hardest things was seeing the empty places at work after we heard about the accident," says Josephine McKinney. "Nobody wanted to disturb their workplace. It's normally a very busy place, but everyone was subdued and quiet."

The community was quick to respond to the tragedy, organising to send the victims' remains back to Latvia and raising money for their families.

"I was getting phonecall after phonecall from people wanting to support the families ," says local councillor Rena Donaghey.

"I think it struck a chord with people. They were lads trying to make a few bob and they died on such a quiet and remote road, and so far from home."

A range of officials, including local TD Cecilia Keaveney, got involved to arrange for the repatriation of the victims' remains. The Irish Red Cross, in conjunction with the community welfare section of the North Western Health Board, agreed to fund the operation.

Local people decided to raise funds for the families in Latvia, organising a charity walk this weekend, while a special bank account has been set up in the local AIB branch.

The Latvian Consul to Ireland, Ivars Lasis, says the families at home are "humbled and deeply touched" by the help and support given by local people in Co Donegal.

"We have been deeply touched and very impressed with the support we have had following this tragedy. It has been very encouraging for the people back home," he says.

The fourth Latvian man in the car was due to fly back to Latvia this weekend, having recovered from his injuries. Danis's father also returned to Latvia this week, and is unlikely to return to Ireland.

Oskar is still haunted by the tragedy, but says the response of local people has helped alleviate some of the pain.

"It's no one's fault that they died. This kind of thing could happen in Latvia too. I feel bad, in that I am the man who told one of them about the jobs here. I feel very bad for my friends, but I want to stay here. This is still the same place, even though my friends have died."

Father McGloughlin, meanwhile, says the tragedy has helped to forge a bond between the community and the Latvians in a way that few expected.

"Although there was a language barrier and a cultural difference, there is something that unites us.

"It's not that long ago that people from this area were going abroad in much the same way. The locals here were very tuned into that, I think, and realised the need to respond in the way they did."