15th April 1989

It feels weird to write this because I tend to try not to think about it to be honest these days. I haven't been able to stop thinking about it today though.

I remember me and my younger brother getting picked up by my dad's mate and his brother-in-law. We set off in very good time and I remember the weather was nice. We got down the M62 and then the traffic just ... stopped .. nothing... just trickling along through the roadworks. Still, nice weather, FA semi-final day, everyone still seemed happy regardless of the traffic. Eventually we made it to Shefield, parked up somewhere and made our way to the ground. It was getting on a bit now, considering how early we had set off. We sorted a place to meet with my dad's mate because they had tickets for the stands, but me and my brother had tickets for the Lepping's Lane End.

We queued up and went through the turnstiles, and as I remember that as we pbutted through the obvious place to go to was the tunnel right in front of us. The way it was set up you wouldn't have even really known there was an alternative. Yet, as I was walking from the turnstile to the tunnel I noticed to my right a burger stand (I'm always hungry).

So, we went through the tunnel into the terrace and I was immediately shocked at how busy it was, we could hardly move. Most of the supporters hadn't even got there yet. I said to my little brother about getting a burger and he was well keen as we hadn't ate since we left ages ago. We managed to work our way against the tide of people coming through the tunnel and went for a burger.

Standing at the burger stand, I could now see at the side another way actually around the side of the terrace and we had a little wander around this way and lo and behold we ended up in another part of the Lepping's Lane Terrace that was virtually deserted. We couldn't believe our luck. Standing there with all this space and a burger too.

After the match kicked off I remeber people above me in the upper tier above me shouting to the police things like 'help them' and then the match stopped.

My biggest haunting memory that I still see now as clear as day and still fills my eyes is my memory of a small boy lying on the pitch in front of me with people working frantically around him to help him, but to no avail. I saw a small boy die that day while going to watch his team.

After finally meeting up with my dad's mates at our meeting place they were so relieved we were ok. Imagine taking your friend's sons to the match and not bringing them back?

I managed to ring my mum at a phonebox on the way home and tell her we were ok. She had been beside herself because she knew we were in that end.

I'm sorry if I have bored you with this long story. I just felt the need to type it. I still see that small boy in my mind.

Rest in peace