The Megrahi Forum: The Opposite Of Vengence

A comment published in the Scottish review about the Lockerbie bomber's release. By Sheila Hetherington, my Grandmother.

The atrocious murder of 270 innocent, happy, excited people heading home for Christmas appalled the world 21 years ago, and continues to appal us now. Families and friends of the victims will grieve until they themselves die. Generations to come will continue to mourn. The foul act will be remembered as long as memory lasts.
Justice demands that the truth should be uncovered. The present position is deeply unsatisfactory. There are countless theories and counter-theories, suspicions involving a number of foreign governments, talk of relevant papers being made permanently unavailable for inspection. But that inquiry, though urgent, is for the future.
Meantime a man who is thought to have helped to perpetrate this crime is dying. I cannot believe that his death in prison a few months from now could have brought solace to the bereaved, or relieved their anguish in any way, though their personal suffering can only be whole-heartedly respected and understood.
So what should have happened to Megrahi? In practical terms, to remove the prisoner to a hospice or hospital to die in this country would, as Mr MacAskill has pointed out, have brought distress and disturbance to other patients whose right it is to find peace and tranquility at their own time of death. A hospice surrounded by up to 40 policemen is unthinkable, callous and would have been rightly condemned.
Vengeance is not a national characteristic, I think, and, when sought, it often bounces back insidiously and viciously. Jim Swire and others still in profound grief have urged against it. And particularly, since in any case we have some doubts as to Megrahi's innocence or guilt, it must be avoided. Mercy is the opposite of vengeance. It is unconditional. It too bounces back unexpectedly, bringing its own blessings.
The return of Megrahi to Tripoli was not well done. He could have been slipped home without publicity, in a British plane. The scenes at Tripoli airport were abhorrent and disgraceful, and we must be prepared for more of these scenes to come.
I sometimes wonder if BBC News is always impartial in its reporting. Headlines such as 'Scotland's First Minister, Alex Salmond, has been forced to defend the decision...' seem perhaps to be a trifle biased against Mr MacAskill.
Returning Megrahi to die at home was a courageous act of mercy. It was an entirely selfless, non-political judgment, and it is distressing to see that some party members, both within and outside Scotland, are seeking to turn it to political advantage. This opportunism is demeaning, and it is reassuring to see that some of our leading politicans – Lord Steel and Henry McLeish to mention only two – have not stooped to such manoevrings, but have praised Mr MacAskill's decision as courageous, and 'the right thing to do'.
I too believe that it was.

Kissing You - Scene from 'Romeo & Juliet'

Real Emotional Girl

She's a real emotional girl
She wears her heart on her sleeve
Every little thing you tell her
She'll believe
She really will
She even cries in her sleep
I've heard her
Many times before
I never had a girl who loved me
Half as much as this girl loves me
She's real emotional

For 18 years she lived at home
She was Daddy's little girl
And Daddy helped her move out on her own
She met a boy
He broke her heart
And now she lives alone
And she's very, very careful
Yes, she is

She's a real emotional girl
Lives down deep inside herself
She turns on easy
It's like a hurricane
You would not believe it
You gotta hold on tight to her
She's a real emotional girl

(written by Randy Newman)

The Day I Died - Just Jack

Drag myself from my bed
Around 20 past 6
Get my kids up make breakfast
1 egg 2 toast 3 weetabix

and as i sit down i look up
and your standing in the doorway sun at your back
in my old brown dressing gown
Well no one can love you more than i love you now, but i

Gotta go running for the bus
Coat flying and i try not to miss it this time
but the drivers waiting and that’s strange
kids on the top deck quiet for a change
and there’s no rain and no roadworks
in the bus lane and all my hurts run away
and im smiling as i’m punching in

the day i died was the best day of my life
the day i died was the best day of my life
tell my friends and my kids and my wife
everything will be alright
the day i died was the best day of my life

now the secretaries they got a smile for me
and the in-tray on my desks almost empty
I get a memo from executive joe
saying Rob the gob is getting kicked out
for embezzling funds from the company account
and id be lying if i said i wasn’t chuffed
cos i always hated rob
and now they’ll probably offer me robs old job

and in the park at lunch
there’s no whinos on my favorite bench
none of that drunk chatter none of that pissy stench
and the scrawny little pigeons with the gammy legs
decide to dive bomb from someone else’s sandwich instead
and there’s something about the city today
like all the colors conspire to overwhelm the grey
and this close to the fire i can feel no cold
but a rainbow halo around my soul

the day i died was the best day of my life
the day i died was the best day of my life
tell my friends and my kids and my wife
everything will be alright
the day i died was the best day of my life

so i leave work get to the high street and i miss my bus
should i wait for another no i cant be arsed
i begin to walk
and rush hour crowd seem to part like the red sea
and i’m stopping at the offy
20 cigarettes and a 6 pack to relax me
and as i cross back over the street
i guess i never saw that taxi
i guess i never saw that taxi

the day i died was the best day of my life
the day i died was the best day of my life
tell my friends and my kids and my wife
everything will be alright
the day i died was the best day of my life