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Irish Daily Mirror
2 days ago
- Entertainment
- Irish Daily Mirror
Surviving member of Miami Showband massacre tells of guilt ahead of book launch
A surviving member of The Miami Showband massacre has said it took him five years to write a book on the heinous crime – saying he battled with survivor's guilt for many years after the attack. Des Lee and Stephen Travers were the only two members of the hit band who survived the horrific slaughter by members of a UVF loyalist paramilitary group on July 31, 1975. Singer Fran O'Toole, 29, 23-year-old Tony Geraghty and 23-year-old Brian McCoy were killed in the attack after the band were travelling back home to Dublin from a gig in the North. It later emerged that the bogus British army checkpoint outside Newry was made up of UDR soldiers and members of terrorist group, the UVF. Des has now launched his first book - My Saxophone Saved My Life: The Miami Showband Massacre and My Quest for Answers – where he details the night of the attack and who he believes is responsible for it. He told The Irish Mirror: "To be honest, it took about five years (to write it). It was hard to work on it. Every time I picked it up, it made me cry and I put it down because it was depressing. "But I realise, 'listen, you're coming up to a ripe old age and you didn't want to kick the bucket when the book is not finished'." Mr Lee added: "I don't want people to think the book is depressing. The book is all about my life from when I was a young boy from Belfast and how we were treated as Catholics, back in the 50s. We got third class housing, third class education, third class jobs. "We were kicked into the ground. When you were a Catholic, you were just a piece of rubbish. I speak about that. "But there's a lot of comedy and humour in it, there's a lot of tear jerks. I think anyone who buys the book will have a wonderful read. "But I want people to know that the guy who organised the Miami massacre was the top guy in the British army. A guy called Captain Robert Nairac. He was the man who organised the weaponry, the uniforms, the bomb, the vehicles. Absolutely everything. "I want people to know all about this man, this man was evil and the British government to this day denies he was there on the night, but we have proof that he was there." The Miami Showband Mr Lee said that the night of the Miami Showband massacre will never leave him. "It never will till the day I die. I wake up every morning – there's photographs of Fran O'Toole in my bedroom, there's photographs of the guys from the band in my lounge, so I live with this 24 hours a day, 365 days of the year and I wouldn't have it any other way. "They were my three brothers; they will always be remembered. I want to keep their names alive. They were purely musicians." He added that he suffered with survivor's guilt for many years after the attack. "I felt sorry for the O'Toole, the Geraghty's and the McCoy family. "We were targeted because we were the number one band in Ireland, and they wanted maximum publicity. They put the bomb in the van, tell us to get back in the van, head up to Dublin, the bomb explodes, we're all killed, there's no one to say any different. "We would be accused of carrying weapons for the IRA. Then there would've been difficulties between the Irish Government and the English Government. That is exactly what would've happened," he added. My Saxophone Saved My Life: The Miami Showband Massacre and My Quest for Answers is available to buy now. Subscribe to our newsletter for the latest news from the Irish Mirror direct to your inbox: Sign up here.
Irish Examiner
5 days ago
- Entertainment
- Irish Examiner
Gareth O'Callaghan: 50 years after Miami Showband killings, the scars of The Troubles still remain
Maybe everybody feels this way about the long hazy days of their teenage summers, but the summers in the mid-1970s were unforgettable. Long sunny days were hitched to an endless soundtrack of classic songs and pop stars whose posters adorned every teenager's bedroom in the country. The year 1975 was particularly memorable, but not just for the weather. I remember where I was on the morning of July 31 that year. Sitting in the back of the family car, I listened in shock as news of the ambush and execution of three members of the Miami Showband broke on RTÉ. I was 14, and what I was listening to was unthinkable. Fifty years later, as the anniversary approaches next Thursday, it still is. Having left the Castle Ballroom in Banbridge, Co Down, shortly after 2am, after an unexpected treat of Irish stew prepared by the venue's staff, the minibus carrying five of the band — Fran O'Toole, Des 'Lee' McAlea, Tony Geraghty, Brian McCoy, and Stephen Travers — was stopped in the townland of Buskhill, eight miles from Newry, at a military checkpoint. They were ordered out of the van and questioned. Unknown to the band, the armed men dressed in British Army uniforms were members of the paramilitary Ulster Volunteer Force (UVF). Seconds later, a bomb that was being placed under the driver's seat by two of the loyalist killers, Harris Boyle and Wesley Somerville, exploded prematurely, killing both. Three of the Miami— Fran, Tony, and Brian — were gunned down as they tried to make their escape across a field they had been blown into by the force of the explosion, and then shot dead while lying on their backs pleading for their lives to be spared. Stephen was shot and seriously wounded. Des escaped uninjured. Why would anyone target a group of musicians who were entertaining young people from both sides of the North's political divide? Music, after all, is meant to bridge all kinds of divides. After all, the Miami's song 'Clap Your Hands, Stomp Your Feet' meant the same to a Protestant teenager as it did to a Catholic. It's impossible to describe the hateful intent that hung in the air that night on the North's A1, as some of the most dangerous killers of 'The Troubles' lay in wait for their targets. It wasn't the terrorists' intention to shoot them. The plan was to allow them to continue on their journey, while, unknown to any of them, transporting a massive bomb set on a short timer — most likely to detonate while the van was travelling through Newry. Clearly, the UVF's plan was to manipulate the enormous love shown to the band by its thousands of fans both north and south. If the bomb had exploded, then the innocent musicians would forever have been remembered as republican terrorists transporting an explosive device north of the border. Fifty years later, the world would still be none the wiser about the bogus checkpoint that night, or the UVF's involvement. Although three innocent men lost their lives, the original plan was foiled. Nor would there have been a 2011 report by the PSNI's Historical Enquiries Team pointing to collusion between the RUC and loyalist paramilitaries in relation to the killings. According to Martin Dillon, in his book The Dirty War, at least five serving Ulster Defence Regiment soldiers were present at the checkpoint. It's impossible to describe the hateful intent that hung in the air that night on the North's A1, as some of the most dangerous killers of 'The Troubles' lay in wait for their targets. The memorial plaque to Miami Showband members Tony Geraghty, Fran O'Toole and Brian McCoy outside the former National Ballroom on Parnell Square in Dublin. Picture: Billy Higgins Is the North a better place 50 years later? It depends on who you ask. South Armagh, with its lush green countryside, is a pleasure to drive through on a sunny July morning; but memories of the Glenanne gang, and its secret alliance of soldiers, police, and UVF members, who murdered innocent Catholics and nationalists in the 1970s, don't disappear with time. Take a stroll along the predominantly loyalist Shankill Road in West Belfast, and it doesn't take long to be reminded of Lenny Murphy, who headed up the Shankill Butchers, who, during the 1970s, brought a new level of paramilitary savagery to a city already on its knees as a result of cold-blooded sectarian killings. There are reminders everywhere that all six counties paid dearly for the hatred of others — often neighbours and work colleagues. Murder could knock on anyone's door, depending on your religion and your allegiances in the community, on where you went to church, or took a pint. Who you worked for often determined whether you became a hitman's target. No one felt safe, and if they did, they were only fooling themselves. The Cork Examiner's front-page report on the Miami showband massacre on August 1, 1975 On the surface, Northern Ireland is different to what it was 50 years ago. Despite Belfast's brutal past, it has become a booming tourist destination. Just like Derry, its bloody history is a curiosity for visitors. But there are those who will tell you it's a history that's not over — just dormant. It wouldn't take a lot to stir the pot. A friend who has lived in Banbridge all his life once told me, 'No one should opine on the history of Northern Ireland unless they lived here during The Troubles', but we've known each other long enough so I doubt he'll mind. It's a place of anomalies and contradictions. It's a part of the United Kingdom, but it shares the same island as a separate sovereign country. One of those anomalies is violence — a reminder that political and civic decisions are forever mindful of orange and green. There are still places where to openly display your Irish pride could get you mistaken for a closet Provo, and vice versa if your loyalty is to the Crown Jewels; but it will no longer cost you your job or your life if you openly support a united Ireland. However, all that happened will never go away. How do you discuss the past with someone whose father walked into a pub carrying a gun and murdered a bunch of his neighbours who were enjoying a football match? What if you're the son of one of them? Despite the peace deal in 1998, many of Northern Ireland's Catholics and Protestants continue to live mostly separate lives. More than 90% of children attend schools segregated by religion. The loyalist bonfire in Moygashel, Co Tyrone, featuring a model migrant boat with life-sized mannequins in life jackets. Picture: Eamonn Farrell / There's a direct link between deprivation and political violence, which the peace agreement failed to address. Add to that the recent violence caused by ethnic discrimination. Seeing news footage of a bonfire topped with mannequins in a boat — representing migrants — in the Tyrone village of Moygashel recently reminded me of the hate that drove the killings of the Miami. For many people, nothing has changed. Moygashel native Wesley Somerville, who blew himself up with his own bomb that night 50 years ago, was honoured in recent weeks when loyalists hung a banner bearing his image from a lamppost in the same village. Let's hope the late Seamus Mallon was right when he said: 'Violence interrupts but does not determine history'. A 45-minute drive south-east of Moygashel brings you back to Banbridge, where three white ribbons still hang from branches close to where the Miami massacre took place, a constant reminder of precarious peace. Read More Two children and woman killed in shooting in Co Fermanagh while man remains in hospital
Sunday World
05-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Sunday World
Miami Showband massacre survivor says horror of that night will never leave him
'LIVING NIGHTMARE' | Almost 50 years ago, on July 31, 1975, Stephen was seriously injured and witnessed the brutal murders of three band mates in one of the most notorious incidents of The Troubles Almost 50 years ago, on July 31, 1975, Stephen was seriously injured and witnessed the brutal murders of three band mates in one of the most notorious incidents of The Troubles. As The Miami were returning to Dublin from a gig in the North that summer, they were stopped by a loyalist paramilitary group outside Newry. As the band members stood beside their van, two UVF men attempted to plant a bomb inside it, with the intention that it would explode as the Miami continued their journey to Dublin. The extremists were trying to portray the hugely popular showband as Republican bomb-smugglers working on behalf of the IRA. What ensued was carnage as a bomb prematurely went off while the paramilitaries were planting it in the group's bandwagon. The scene in the aftermath of the attack Only two of the five band members, Stephen and Des Lee, survived the horrific slaughter after being left for dead. Singer Fran O'Toole (29) and musicians Tony Geraghty (23) and Brian McCoy (23) were shot as they begged for their lives. Two of the paramilitaries also died in the explosion. Stephen, who was then only 24 and had heard his bandmates pleading to be spared before being murdered, says his personality was completely changed by the atrocity. Miami Showband massacre survivor Stephen Travers can never distance himself from the atrocity Today's News in 90 Seconds - May 5th He says: 'I was diagnosed several years ago with Enduring Personality Change, something I had never heard of. Basically, you go into an incident one person and come out another person. The psychiatrist said: 'It is so intense it changes you completely.' 'My wife, Anne, said 'I learned to live with and love a different person.' Without her I wouldn't be here today. She was only 21 at the time.' Stephen tells the Sunday World that he can never distance himself from the shocking events of that night, which will be marked by a major memorial concert featuring legendary Irish musicians in Dublin's Vicar Street on September 28, with all proceeds going to the Irish Cancer Society. Atrocities happening around the world, particularly in Gaza, trigger his own personal experiences. 'I can intensely feel the hurt,' Stephen says solemnly. 'When you see bodies blown up all over the place on the ground, I've seen that. I crawled for the best part of an hour on the field trying to avoid the body parts of the men who were after trying to kill us to get to our own lads… trying to stand up and falling down. So I know what these people are going through. Thousands turn out for the funeral of Fran O'Toole in Bray, Co Wicklow in 1975 'People talk about flashbacks and memories and things like that. I don't have flashbacks and memories, it's always there. 'PTSD for me is to be drawn too close to that, where it is a trigger that is very difficult to pull yourself away from it. But if you do want to talk about it you can actually look at that and see it happening and actually tell the story in real time.' And how do you feel afterwards? 'Sometimes it can be really, really draining because you are reliving the trauma in real time.' Stephen says people are in danger of being desensitised to the suffering of people caught up in war zones when it's constantly in the news. 'I know we have to see it, but the danger is we are normalising it,' he says. 'The minute the newscaster says, 'In Gaza today…' you expect to see bodies and children crying and people being rushed into hospitals without limbs.' The Miami Showband Massacre, which has been the subject of a Netflix documentary, will never be forgotten in the history of Irish music. 'We are written into the history books for all the wrong reasons,' Stephen acknowledges. 'I'd rather if we weren't, but if we are then we are going to turn our story into something good… that it can show us the futility of violence, the horror of sectarianism, bigotry and all of these things and that there is a much better way.' In September, Stephen will publish a self-written book of his remarkable journey in life and the tragic events that shaped it. Called The Bass Player, Anthem For The Innocent, it is also set to be the source of a major new documentary currently in discussions.
