For the family of Ann’s friend Josephine Bradley, relief turned into despair.
“It was 1974, nobody had phones, especially in a small little country area. So, my brother went to the local village, Ballyboy … and made calls to Dublin. He got through to Jo’s accommodation and he was assured she was there and safe,” explains Josephine’s sister Frances.
That night the Bradley family offered a decade of the rosary in thanksgiving, thinking Josephine had survived the bomb. Her sister Pauline went to her Debs ball and stood for a minute’s silence for the casualties in Dublin and Monaghan, not knowing they included her older sister.
“On Saturday morning, our local guard came out to the house and said Josie’s bag was found on the street, on Talbot Street. That’s when the nightmare began,” says Frances Bradley.
“They hadn’t checked her room in the accommodation,” laments Josephine’s twin sister Marian, “so I went to the City Morgue and there was a long queue of people waiting to identify their loved ones.
“While I was sitting waiting, I started ringing the hospitals again to be told that Jervis Street had a Janet Bradley registered.
“I ran to Jervis Street to find Jo lying in a bed next to the window with the sun smiling in on her. She smiled, we hugged, she squeezed my hand, she was happy that I had found her.
“‘But unfortunately, the bomb from the blast had caught her tummy and she had horrendous damage done on her stomach.”
Josephine’s sister Sr Claudia Bradley immediately booked a flight home from Los Angeles to be at her sister’s bedside.
“I hoped against hope that Josie was still alive. But, passing over New York, I witnessed a glorious sunrise and it didn’t go unnoticed. It was at that very time, 11.30pm Irish time, Monday 20 May, that dear Josie died.”
