Southport: Reporting on a Hometown Tragedy and Its Emotional Toll
“This sort of thing doesn’t happen around here.” It’s a phrase often uttered when tragedy strikes, and in this case, it rings especially true.
I’m from Southport. My family home is just a short distance from where Monday’s devastating events took place, and I once lived on Hart Street for a while. So, the phrase “close to home” couldn’t be more accurate.
Arriving at the scene for BBC North West Tonight, shortly after hearing something was amiss, I was struck by the surreal sight of a familiar street cordoned off, police everywhere, and the press gathered. It was disorienting to see such an ordinary place turned into a crime scene.
Talking to those who witnessed the events was heart-wrenching. Listening to their stories and their visible despair was deeply upsetting. I found myself overwhelmed with emotion and needed comfort from a colleague. Later, while North West Tonight was broadcasting live from the scene, the press conference confirming the deaths of two children was unfolding, and I was there. I was deeply affected sitting in that media room, surrounded by cameras and microphones, trying to carry out my normal duties under such extraordinary circumstances. My friend and colleague Roger Johnson also struggled visibly on air, choked up as he reported the tragic news.
The following day brought more sorrow with the announcement that a third little girl had died. Seeing their names—Alice, Bebe, Elsie—and their pictures made the loss even more real. Speaking to friends, it became apparent how interconnected our community is. Many had taken their own children to that center or knew those affected. The small town feel, the tight-knit nature of Southport, made the grief even more personal.
That evening, as the community gathered outside the Atkinson to pay their respects, the scene was a poignant reminder of our unity in mourning. Yet, the day also brought disturbing scenes of fires, thrown bricks, and attacks on police officers. My mother texted me about the chaos, noting the smoke, the crowds, and the helicopter overhead, and how frightened our cat was—an indication that even our pets were not spared from the turmoil.
In a widely shared post, a local councillor contrasted the day’s events, noting the peaceful community gathering as a true representation of Southport, despite the violent disturbances. Friends echoed these sentiments online, struggling to reconcile the tragedy with their image of our seaside town.
As a journalist, covering such distressing stories is part of the job, but reporting on this tragedy in my hometown—one I am so proud of—has been unprecedented. I have felt the shock, grief, and disbelief deeply and carry a strong sense of responsibility to report this story with the sensitivity and accuracy it demands. This kind of tragedy is indeed something we don’t expect to encounter here.
