Latest news with #GillHicks
ABC News
14 hours ago
- ABC News
Survivor marks 20 years since the London Underground terrorist attacks
A special service will be held in London today, to make 20 years since the deadly seven-seven terrorist attacks, when four suicide bombers targeted crowded trains and a bus in the UK capital. At the age of 37, Australian Gill Hicks lost both legs below the knee when one of the bombs exploded, but she's never lost her determination to live a full life, and she's found a unique way to commemorate the anniversary.
ABC News
19 hours ago
- General
- ABC News
Australian survivor marks 20 years since London's 7/7 terrorist attacks
After Gill Hicks was rescued from the wreckage of a tube train following London's 7/7 terrorist attacks in 2005, she was so severely injured her hospital identification wristband read, "One unknown — estimated female". "Becoming Gill again has been a really interesting quest over 20 years," she tells the ABC after arriving back in London from Adelaide for commemorations marking the 20th anniversary of that devastating day. "It's been 20 years of finding the threads of who I once was and 20 years of discovering who I am now." Back in 2005, Ms Hicks, then aged 37, was working as the head curator at the Design Council in London. On July 7, she was on her way to work during the morning rush hour when a suicide bomber targeted her carriage as it travelled between King's Cross and Russell Square. In what was a coordinated terrorist attack, another three suicide bombers detonated devices on two more underground trains and a bus, killing 52 people and injuring more than 700. The Australian remembers using her scarf as a tourniquet around what was left of her legs to try to stop the bleeding while she waited for help to arrive. She was the last survivor to be pulled from the smoke-filled carriage about an hour after the blast. "My life was saved as 'one unknown', and it didn't matter if I was Gill Hicks or who I was, the efforts that people went to, to give their all to save this 'one unknown', that's shaped me," Ms Hicks says. "And they're things I take away from London, that on that day in the aftermath, I was loved unconditionally as a human being." Ms Hicks says she can't believe it has been 20 years since the attacks. Life with two prosthetics, intense pain and hearing loss means she is reminded of what happened daily. "There's something for me that I think about a lot, which is time isn't a healer," she says. But there is also great joy in her life — thanks to her family, friends, peace advocacy work, and the arts. As well as returning to London for official anniversary commemorations, Ms Hicks is in the city to perform her multi-award-winning show, wryly titled Still Alive (And Kicking)!. She launched the show, which "explores the wonder of knowing life through facing death", at the Adelaide Fringe Festival in 2021 and has also performed it at the Edinburgh Fringe Festival. Two days after the 7/7 anniversary she will take to the stage of London's Wilton's Music Hall for one night only. "I feel like this is the performance of a lifetime in many ways," Ms Hicks says. "Because of the audience. The audience will be the first responders, the people that saved my life." Performing, she says, makes her "feel free". "The greatest loss [since the 7/7 bombings] isn't necessarily both legs; the greatest loss has been a sense of freedom … but what the arts has given me is those little moments of feeling free. And there is nothing like it. "So, when I'm on the stage, I am me and I'm free. When I'm singing, I'm part of that music and it's greater than bliss. It's what I keep living for." Relationships are important too — especially those Ms Hicks has formed with the people who saved her life. "They're my family, they're extraordinary," she says. "And I just saw Tracy [Russell], who was my first responder in the carriage that morning, last night … and it feels like sitting down with your sister because it's a person that knows you inside out, and we can finish each other's sentences and all of those sorts of special things that I absolutely feel are lifelong bonds. "We're not defined by the July 7 bombings, but by our shared humanity, by our incredible connection, and now we've got 20 years [of friendship]." Ms Russell will be a candle bearer at a service of commemoration to mark the 20th anniversary of the London bombings at St Paul's Cathedral. As Ms Hicks waited for paramedics that July morning in the tube wreckage, she made what she describes as a "contract" with herself — that if she survived, she would make life count. Over the past two decades, she has become a fierce advocate for global peace and combatting extremism, a motivational speaker, an author, an artist, a performer, partner to Karl, and mother to daughter Amelie — but she says she still has so much more to achieve. "I haven't had enough time to do all the things I want to do to make the impact I want to make, to leave the footprint that I want to leave," she says. Ms Hicks counts two letters from people who have heard her speak over the years as symbols of her success. Both told her she had changed their lives. Those letters now sit on her desk back at home in Adelaide as reminders that her advocacy for peace and zest for life matter. Ms Hicks says she doesn't know how she is going to feel at today's anniversary commemorations, but she does know this: instead of thinking of the brutality of the 7/7 bombings, she will be focusing on the brilliance of life after it.
The Guardian
6 days ago
- Entertainment
- The Guardian
‘My hospital notes said: estimated female': jazz musician Gill Hicks on being caught in the 7/7 bombings
When Gill Hicks takes to the stage, she says with a small laugh that she hopes she can get through just the opening number, 'without breaking down in a heap'. It will be emotional. Wryly titled Still Alive (and Kicking), the show is Hicks's own way to mark the 20th anniversary of the suicide bombings on London's public transport that killed 52 people, and injured more than 700 – Hicks, a survivor, lost both her legs. In her show, she weaves her story of survival and resilience around singing the jazz standards she has always loved. She has already performed a version of it in Australia, where she now lives, but for its London outing she hopes around 20 members of the medical and emergency teams who attended that day will be in the audience. 'They are extraordinary,' she says, 'and their actions not only saved my life that morning, but I honestly believe they have saved me every single day since.' That July morning, Hicks was on her way to work when one of the four suicide bombers who targeted London detonated his bomb in her tube carriage, somewhere between King's Cross and Russell Square. Hicks is believed to have been the last survivor pulled from the wreckage some 40 minutes later, her injuries so bad that when she arrived at hospital she was simply labelled: 'One unknown, estimated female'. Before that, lying in the dark smoke-filled carriage, having used her scarf as a tourniquet around what was left of her legs to stop the bleeding, Hicks remembers making what she describes as a contract. She would get the chance to live, and she would make it count. 'That's really helped me continue to get up every day regardless of the situation I'm in. There's a purpose and an absolute sense that there's things to be done that help remind us of our shared humanity.' She had lived in London for more than 20 years, working in architecture and design, then after the bombings dedicating her time to organisations that promoted peace, before moving to Australia in 2013, the same year she had her daughter. The last time Hicks came to London was in 2015 to commemorate 10 years since the bombings. But she doesn't associate the city with trauma. That has been a conscious choice, she says. 'That's the one power that we all have, to be able to choose how we react and how we respond. Part of the honour of life for me is constantly choosing to live from a place of gratitude and positivity.' Twenty years, she says, is long enough to consider the depth of the impact on her. 'With the nature of my disability, I'm never detached from what's happened,' she says. Forgiveness hasn't felt necessary, or even possible given the man who blew up that tube carriage died in the blast, 'so he's taken away this exchange. It's also made me feel I don't have to really consider my feelings about him. I have to instead focus on what I do with my life, and how do I honour my life?' She is also always aware of those who didn't come home that day. The idea of 'healing' or 'recovery' is difficult – 'My legs won't grow back. I live in quite a lot of constant pain' – but for Hicks, the arts have been part of reclaiming her sense of self. She was a jazz musician before the bombings, but she never thought she would be able to sing or perform again. Her injuries left her with hearing loss, and one functioning lung. 'It took me months to learn how to speak again,' she says. 'When something like this type of life-altering event happens, it's so easy to lose yourself, because your identity is skewed. Suddenly you're a disabled person, so that's one label. You're a double amputee, that's another. You're a survivor, or are you a victim? I've been given a new life, but it's this constant struggle of how do I do this?' The arts, including her vibrant paintings (which will be projected during the show) and working with the violinist Julian Ferraretto (also part of the show) represented 'this beautiful piece of life before, that came back but with a different meaning, so it's actually more powerful'. Instead of thinking about the hate and extremism of that catastrophic moment, Hicks prefers to focus on the love and compassion she was shown in the months and years afterwards. She tracked down as many people involved in her care as she could, 'to look into their eyes and say thank you.' Several, including one of the first paramedics who entered Hicks's carriage, have become close friends. This is what she wants her show to bring to people. 'Through the addition of music, it becomes a real celebration of not only life, but of who we are as human beings – the extraordinary, unconditional love that I was shown as a person without identity, 'One unknown, estimated female.' To think that my body wasn't just passed from one person to the next, it was absolutely held with love and intention for survival. Who I am today is because of how powerful that love and care was on that morning. I think the undercurrent for me of 20 years is: how do I tell that? How do I be the reminder?' Still Alive (and Kicking) is at Wilton's Music Hall, London, on 9 July
