Reader’s praise for Ramble Inn article

On buying the Ballymena Times last Tuesday, my first reaction at seeing Jim’s picture on the front page was the same as it was 36 years ago - heart stopping shock followed by anger and then great sadness as the news of that awful attack in the Ramble Inn quickly flashed across my mind again.

The morning following the tragedy, I was at the ‘old’ Fairhill Market with my wife Sylvia, completely oblivious to the awful events of the night before. I hadn’t heard or seen the news on the Friday night or Saturday morning. We were approached by an elderly man whom I recognised only through seeing him at matches when I’d played against Cullybackey - he was an ardent Cullybackey supporter at that time when Ballymena had probably the strongest Junior League in N. Ireland. All I recall was him stopping me and saying he was very sorry to hear about my mate.

‘Who?’ I asked and he replied ‘Jimmy - Jimmy McCallion’. ‘Why, what’s wrong with Jimmy?’ I asked innocently. What he told me next, I could barely take in. I can still recall the feeling of total disbelief, shock, sadness, anger that raced through my body. It just didn’t seem real.

We were living through times when bombings, shootings and killings were almost accepted as ‘the norm’ but we were able to block most of it out our minds - until it affected us directly. It seemed the only way to deal with it. Suddenly I had this awful feeling of helplessness, hopelessness, immense sadness, anger - a whole plethora of emotions.

I remember Sylvia and myself walking aimlessly around the market for a short while, not speaking, not looking at any of the stalls, neither of us able to take in fully what we’d just heard. I was suddenly overcome with a terrible sense of loss as the news finally began to sink in. Needless to say whatever we’d called for at the Fairhill Market that morning didn’t matter any more and we both returned to the car to drive home. As I was driving I could feel this mixture of fear, sadness and still disbelief building up inside me and my eyes were getting to the stage where I wasn’t seeing clearly and I could feel tears running down my cheeks. I stopped the car but couldn’t stop the tears as the whole scenario became real. How could this be - why was life like this that it could be so suddenly and cruelly taken away?

Jimmy was a team-mate of mine at the time, playing for Nelsons in the Ballymena Junior League - now the Ballymena & Provincial Intermediate League. I didn’t realise he was 38-years-old for he certainly had the energy and enthusiasm of a man half that age and was a rock at the heart of Nelsons defence - every week! He was fearless, competed for every ball - hard but fair - and definitely led by example.

‘Nipper’ Anderson, Nelsons manager - a great football man himself and close friend of Jimmy’s had assembled a good squad of players in 1976 and there was a sprinkling of young players included and we all adored Jimmy and looked up to him - his enthusiasm and love of the game was infectious and definitely not lost on us.

The days leading up to his funeral were long and uncomfortable - still punctuated with disbelief, and only as I walked behind the hearse on that sunny day in 1976, amongst the large crowd of mourners, many from the local football fraternity, did I fully accept that Jimmy was gone.

It was a horrific time and I know, only one of many tragedies that occurred during the long ‘war’ that engulfed this small piece of land, but this was different for us, as it affected the whole local community in this normally quiet country part of Northern Ireland.

I’ve never been able to go inside the Ramble Inn since and every time I go past it, a ‘picture’ of Jimmy comes into my head - that will hardly change now and to be honest I wouldn’t want it to - it reminds me of the gentle and honest man Jimmy was, though the grief at his loss is still very much there too.

I’ve often wondered what happened to Jimmy’s wife and young family and it’s sad to learn from your article that his son Allan has also since died. And there’s still no answer or satisfactory outcome as to why this atrocity occurred at all. Like so many families on this small island, there is no closure and as Jimmy’s son Stephen says ‘You just go on living with it’. If it’s any help or consolation to the family, I’m sure there’s many people who, like me, will never forget Jimmy or the positive effect he had on all those who knew him - young and old alike.

Thank you for your story.

Johnny Weir Portglenone.