With Jon’s arrival at the hostel, we began our Derry leg of the study trip. Before continuing with this narrative, a moment must be taken to describe Jon. Born and raised in Derry by his mother in the Catholic community of the Bogside, Jon has spent the last twenty five years working on conflict resolution and peace transformation projects in this city of his birth. A former IRA member and ex-prisoner, he is one of the most inspiring, caring, and “wicked” fun individuals that a person might hope to meet in this life. Our group wishes to send a great thanks to John for giving of himself and his time and for inspiring a greater spirit of appreciation for this life.
Following this great man along the road from our hostel to the old, stone walls of the city center, we listened to the unique tale of this magical place and its founding. From the story of the plantation of Protestant families in Derry, to the Siege of Derry and the Apprentice Boys’ closing of the gates, through the gerrymandering and discrimination practices of the Corporation, we were a group touched by the intimate history of those stones. The pain of the many communities living in and around Derry became more apparent as we stood high on these walls of the city and stared at the peace wall (interface) separating and isolating the Protestant “Fountain Estate” and then moved to another view of those 25 ft murals produced by the Bogside Artists in the Catholic community of the Bogside.
It was from this tour of the walled city that the group then walked to the Bogside for a closer view of this People’s Gallery, truly “a window into the heart of the Bogside and its people.” From the mural of Annette McGavigan, a young school girl killed by the British Army, to a mural of Bloody Sunday, including Jon’s image confirming his presence there that day, these images live as reminders of the cost of the conflict and the continued importance of dialogue. It is here that the reality of this conflict becomes truly difficult to understand and process.
There are not sufficient words to describe the next moments of this trip, as Jon took us through his very personal perspective of Bloody Sunday. Having been present that day and a part of a group that included several of the men shot and killed, it was an emotional journey we walked with him. Suffice it to say, we watched a man relive the horror of the memory and we felt the quiet and the cold of his still raw grief.
How does one put into words what a man of seventeen must have felt to watch innocent young friends die when an army chose to shoot live rounds into a crowd of peaceful demonstrators searching for equal rights?
Dazed, the group then stepped into the Bloody Sunday Center/John Kelly Museum of Free Derry and spoke with John Kelly about the museum and his brother, Michael, who was killed that day. To an audio recording of Bloody Sunday, we walked through the rooms and viewed artifacts, photos, and video archives from this violent that still echoes in this small community. One of the most moving items was a jacket worn by Jim Wray, a young man killed in those eighteen minutes that the violence lasted. Encased in glass, there it lay with two clearly visible bullet holes in the back.
Whether we acknowledge it or not, we who come from a privileged society live with an invisible line in our mind that tells us where we believe human beings will not tread, what is out of bounds and unacceptable. We think that life and our fellow man will know this boundary and respect it. But human beings commit terrible atrocities against each other and we cannot always remain in the comfort of this place, tucked behind this line, believing these things cannot possibly happen. We were uncomfortable today because we were starkly reminded that such a line is easily erased with very little reason. But we were also reminded, in the everyday actions of people like Jon, of the importance in remembering our humanity even in the face of those we do not understand, for the terrible price paid by everyone when we disregard this line, this sanctity of life, is more than just tears.
Quote of the Day: “I do not know where flowers come from on a Sunday afternoon.” –Jon McCourt
