‘Liverpool's victory parade will be remembered as a memorial instead of a celebration'

Telegraph

27-05-2025

The footage posted online from Liverpool is at once appalling and scarcely believable. At first viewing it looks like a set-piece from a Bond film where a car ploughs into a crowd of screaming revellers and, as the bodies thump on to then roll off the bonnet, carnival turns to carnage.
But this was no carefully-choreographed movie scene. The horrific events that took place shortly after 6pm on Monday evening were all too real; men, women and children randomly, senselessly mown down in the street. That there were no deaths was nothing short of a miracle.
But as the grey dawn broke on Tuesday it was over a city palpably in shock. How to process the terrible trauma suffered in the wake of Liverpool FC's Premier League victory parade? Silverware forever tarnished.
'It had been the most amazing day,' said Aaron Everson, 28, who took his wife Danielle, 35, and her 10-year-old son, Harry, to the parade and then returned to the city centre with them on Tuesday, in the pouring rain, to see the devastation.
'There were spectacular fireworks from the Liver Building and a real feeling of euphoria as the team waved to us from the bus. But that will be forgotten now, which is such a crying shame because some absolute idiot drove his car into the crowd. The date is just going to be a memorial instead of a celebration.'
What a difference 24 hours makes. Water Street, which on Monday thronged with jubilant football supporters, is now a crime scene.
As of Tuesday afternoon, it was sealed off at both ends with blue and white police tape. A cohort of officers were conspicuously on duty, while a large police vehicle had been deliberately parked across the road to block the view of the forensic tent erected over the Ford Galaxy that had turned jubilation into horror. (The man suspected of driving the vehicle has been arrested on suspicion of attempted murder, dangerous driving and driving while unfit through drugs.)
The usual detritus of any large gathering littered the ground; but alongside the crushed cans and empty vodka bottles, a precious Liverpool scarf lay sodden and filthy from the feet that pounded over it as hundreds fled for their lives. Nearby, a large plush octopus toy had been poignantly discarded in the gutter – perhaps as a frantic, frightened parent plucked their child to safety.
Not all parents, not all children were so fortunate. A total of 47 people were hurt, 27 of whom were taken to hospital. Four remain seriously injured – including a child who was one of four people police discovered trapped under the vehicle that careened down Water Street as huge numbers of fans and families headed homewards up the hill after the hugely joyful, peaceful parade drew to a close.
Up to an estimated million well-wishers had lined the route to cheer their heroes as they passed by on an open-top double-decker. By way of an homage to the home side's colours, clouds of red smoke and flares had filled the air; the mood was triumphant, giddy, good-natured.
Then, a Ford Galaxy that had been parked up suddenly moved off, erratically and without apparent heed of the pedestrians. Eye-witness reports say it went forward, then into reverse, before accelerating to an estimated 30mph, swerving and mounting the pavement – all the while smashing into the dense crowd.
At various points outraged supporters surged forward, shouting and hammering on the car. One man could be seen trying to smash the back window before police swept onto the scene and prevented them from harming the driver.
'We were nearby, on the Strand, and we heard this huge crescendo of screaming,' said Marie Gourdin, 32, a PR expert and lifelong fan who travelled from Paris for the parade. 'We just thought it was excitement because there had been so much noise all day. Then when the emergency workers started bringing people out of Water Street on stretchers, some with blood on their heads, I thought maybe they had drunk a bit too much.
'It wasn't until two hours later that we found out what had happened – and that was when my friends started calling me from France to see if I was OK. I was devastated that such a thing could take place here, in the friendliest city in the world. The only consolation is that the people here will look after one another.'
We are all aware of the terrible and increasing weaponisation of vehicles. Since Bastille Day in 2016, when 86 people were killed and more than 400 injured in Nice by a lorry driven by a Tunisian man with links to Islamic State, attacks have occurred from Westminster to Toronto, Berlin to New Orleans.
Little wonder then that in Liverpool the immediate assumption was a terrorist attack.
And so with seemingly unusual swiftness the police released details about the driver, perhaps in a bid to avoid the information vacuum that led to last year's riots after the machete murders of three little girls at a Taylor Swift dance class in Southport, just 20 miles north of Liverpool city centre.
As police held a press conference, Liverpool braced itself for the worst – yet the driver turned out to be a 53-year-old white man who lived locally. Nobody else was being sought in connection with the incident. The motive did not appear to be rooted in ideology.
Here then, was a very different blow; an act of terror that did not constitute terrorism. A violent assault on the citizens of Liverpool that was perpetrated not by a stranger but seemingly carried out by one of their own.
'It's disgusting to think the driver was a Scouser,' said warehouse worker Steven Collins, 35, who had turned up to film the eerie scene on a deserted Water Street. 'This sort of thing shouldn't happen in Liverpool; innocent kids aren't supposed to get mown down in the street in Liverpool. We are better than that. It's really tragic that now this awful incident will be associated with the football club; it's already had more than its share of tragedy.'
Liverpool FC is, of course, inseparable from the Hillsborough disaster. Ninety-seven children, women and men lost their lives in a fatal crush due to a lack of police control at the FA Cup semi-final between Liverpool and Nottingham Forest at Sheffield Wednesday's Hillsborough stadium on April 15 1989.
The Sun newspaper is still boycotted in many parts of the city due to its egregious twisting of the truth. Claims that fans used the opportunity to pickpocket the dying and that they skirmished with police trying to save lives were entirely fictional.
Sales of The Sun will never recover; Liverpool has a long memory. It also has towering self belief and admirable resilience.
'We are the best city on the planet. Our history is built on immigration so we welcome anyone who comes here, as long as they have honourable intentions,' was the verdict of taxi driver and father of eight Sean Gallagher, 64.
'If it turns out the man behind the wheel is local then we will wait for justice to take its course. He will be punished and we will all move on. It won't change us.'
Scousers are a breed apart. Fiercely proud, partisan and patriotic towards their home city – being British lags a long way behind – they are in many ways the best of us.
As the skies darkened and the downpour grew relentless, Nigel Fawcett-Jones, 59, stood aimlessly by the police barriers wearing a fleece bearing the legend 'Billy Graham Rapid Response Team', signifying he is a chaplain in the charity set up by the late US evangelist.
'I've come from Bradford to connect with local churches and see if anybody needs any spiritual support,' he explained. 'We're non/denominational so we offer help where we can – but so far there has been no great demand. But that's Liverpool; it has survived so much down the years and that gives it the grit and self confidence to cope in times of adversity.'
Meanwhile, on his way to the station to catch a flight from London, Icelandic district judge Thorsteinn Magnusson, 49, wanted a final look at Water Street. As a lifelong fan of Liverpool FC he often comes over for big home matches.
'This parade was a huge moment for me,' he explained. 'Like all Liverpool supporters, I've been through decades without major silverware so it was hugely important for me to be here.
'I left 15 minutes before the incident, then I saw the videos online and was so shocked. But I'm sure that the people of Liverpool will stand together; it's what they have always done.'
Legacy means different things to different people, but nobody could dispute that football is right at the beating heart of Liverpool. It goes almost without saying that its 'other' team, Everton, reached out immediately when the news broke.
Social media was also inundated by offers from ordinary people offering lifts home – even beds for the night – to those who had missed their trains in the confusion. Crisis tests the mettle of a community.
'This has been an emotional 24 hours,' admitted Lee Cooke, a teacher, sounding choked up.
'I can't bear to look at the films on social media and imagine how it must have felt to be caught up in the crowd with a car bearing down on you and your loved ones.
'Liverpool is the sort of community that really cares. People came together straight away without hesitation, looking after strangers because it was the right thing to do. That's why I will always be a Liverpool supporter; because this city means it when it says you'll never walk alone.'