Deeply impressed by an extended feature on Newsnight, (27 Sept) which I viewed later
on a BBC News repeat, in which survivors of the horrific fire at Grenfell Tower block, (14 June),
articulated their experiences, clearly and concisely, on their nightmare experience of quitting the block. I assume that sheer sensibility at the BBC intervened to allow a minimal passage of time
before the subject could be broached tactfully thus sidelining emotionalism. Indeed, it was a deeply disturbing experience to watch as the survivors opted for simplicity and articulate comments; only the marks of feeling and thought could be seen on their faces. I have a hunch that the programme was watched throughout the country with few words spoken throughout; silence and a pained response probably the best option as we tried to understand the fear and sense of terror of stricken victims as they groped their way in darkness on a single staircase, from the upper reaches of the block; carrying or supporting their offspring, only stopping when they trod on people who could no longer continue, or the infirm pleading for help which could not be given. Naught for your comfort, indeed. Satisfying to hear that the survivors still assemble monthly and proceed to Grenfell Tower. The consequences likely to continue for several years.
I retired to bed but could not engage in a daily reading ritual until a long forgotten memory sprang to mind. During WW2, 1943-ish, when I was 12, I went to my Granny, after school, seeking a bread and jam sandwich. A telegram arrived for her with news that her grandson, Jim, had been killed in action, a navigator in Bomber Command. He was 19. She didn't cry but let forth a stentorian wail as she crunched the telegram until she broke down. My first experience of real fear before I quickly summoned my mother. I gradually drifted into sleep.
Well done, BBC Newsnight for the low-key dignity and insight of last night's inquisition.
on a BBC News repeat, in which survivors of the horrific fire at Grenfell Tower block, (14 June),
articulated their experiences, clearly and concisely, on their nightmare experience of quitting the block. I assume that sheer sensibility at the BBC intervened to allow a minimal passage of time
before the subject could be broached tactfully thus sidelining emotionalism. Indeed, it was a deeply disturbing experience to watch as the survivors opted for simplicity and articulate comments; only the marks of feeling and thought could be seen on their faces. I have a hunch that the programme was watched throughout the country with few words spoken throughout; silence and a pained response probably the best option as we tried to understand the fear and sense of terror of stricken victims as they groped their way in darkness on a single staircase, from the upper reaches of the block; carrying or supporting their offspring, only stopping when they trod on people who could no longer continue, or the infirm pleading for help which could not be given. Naught for your comfort, indeed. Satisfying to hear that the survivors still assemble monthly and proceed to Grenfell Tower. The consequences likely to continue for several years.
I retired to bed but could not engage in a daily reading ritual until a long forgotten memory sprang to mind. During WW2, 1943-ish, when I was 12, I went to my Granny, after school, seeking a bread and jam sandwich. A telegram arrived for her with news that her grandson, Jim, had been killed in action, a navigator in Bomber Command. He was 19. She didn't cry but let forth a stentorian wail as she crunched the telegram until she broke down. My first experience of real fear before I quickly summoned my mother. I gradually drifted into sleep.
Well done, BBC Newsnight for the low-key dignity and insight of last night's inquisition.
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