At the top of the stairs in a whitewashed cottage in Creeslough, Co Donegal, Áine Flanagan unlocks the door of her late daughter’s bedroom.
It is the first time she has gone into the room in two months.
Pink curtains remain drawn and an enormous fluffy unicorn covers the floor.
Beside a neatly made child’s bed are two delicately carved wooden urns; a silver butterfly glitters on top of the smaller one, in which the ashes of Flanagan’s five-year-old daughter, Shauna, are held.
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She was her only child.
Rose petals rest on the second urn, with the remains of Robert Garwe (50), Flanagan’s partner and Shauna’s father.
Crayon etchings are on the wall closest to the bed, which Flanagan can’t bring herself to paint over.
“I haven’t been in here since Shauna’s birthday in February. I haven’t been able to,” she says.
“This room has all things she loved, her scooter, her unicorns and her little pictures and butterflies. She was a very bubbly, very loving child ... she adored her father.
“Bob wanted to be cremated. He said that to his other children the week before he died. Some of his ashes will go back to Zimbabwe, where he’s from ... ”
On October 7th, 2022, Robert and Shauna went to the village shop at the local service station to buy a birthday cake for Áine. It was Friday, “treat day”.
At 3.17pm, an explosion at the station was heard from miles away.
Ten people died in the blast, the highest number of civilian casualties in a single incident in the county in decades.
Shauna Flanagan-Garwe was the youngest victim.
“I heard the bang and I was mopping the kitchen floor. I just fell to my knees screaming. I can’t explain that. My grandparents’ picture fell off the wall at the same time. It crashed to the ground, and I crashed,” says Flanagan.
“The rest is a blur because families started arriving. The men were going up the road with diggers. And then there was a wait.
“My brother came from Dublin. He had to go up and come in here and tell me they were both gone.”
The Irish Times has been invited to the home Áine Flanagan shared with her partner and daughter, and where she now lives alone, angry at plans to build a new service station and shop on the site of the gas explosion.
Her terraced cottage (it belonged to her birth mother and grandmother) is less than half a mile from the site, where today, 22ft grey hoarding encases the exterior under the shadow of Muckish mountain and rolling green fields.
A wilted bunch of purple tulips is on a ledge at the front of the hoarding, close to a site notice from Donegal County Council taped to the wall; it details a planning application by Vivo Shell Limited to demolish the existing building and replace it with a shop, commercial building, post office, off-licence, deli and forecourt.
The notice includes a plan for a “space for a memorial garden”.
Despite multiple objections from bereaved relatives and survivors – “insensitive and morally bankrupt” is how one family solicitor described the move – Donegal County Council granted planning permission to the applicants in February.
“It’s like something you’d see on the M50, it’s bigger than the original shop,” says Flanagan of the plans.
“This is sacred ground. I can’t get my head around how a site can be developed and built on when there’s an ongoing criminal investigation. Look at Ground Zero in the States, look at Grenfell, look at Stardust; there wasn’t another tower block or nightclub built.
“We have had no answers yet as to why our loved ones died and they want to go and develop the site. As you can see in Creeslough, there’s a lot of green fields – another site could be used.”
Downstairs, surrounded by photographs of her daughter, Flanagan (58) becomes emotional as she says she has been “retraumatised” by the planning controversy.
News that planning approval was granted appeared on the front page of a weekly Co Donegal newspaper before the families were notified by letter the following morning.
Flanagan says she was physically sick after receiving a screenshot of the story on her phone.
“I don’t even think we can grieve – there’s been something every month about this application,” she says.
She and some of the other bereaved families are appealing Donegal County Council’s decision and have requested, through their respective legal teams, an oral hearing from An Bord Pleanála, the independent planning body that rules on appeals to planning decisions made by local authorities.
They are hoping that a decision on whether or not to grant the hearing is imminent; the families say it is “vital” they are given a platform to air their grievances.
Solicitor Darragh Mackin of Belfast-based Phoenix Law, who is representing Áine Flanagan and some of the other families, says it is “difficult to comprehend a more compelling case in recent times that requires an oral hearing”.
A final decision on the case is expected on July 14th, and will ultimately determine if the redevelopment goes ahead in the village, populated by just under 400 people.
Flanagan points to a handmade birthday card Shauna drew on the morning of the explosion – it is framed on the mantelpiece, ‘I love you Mammy’, it reads beside a heart and a drawing of the pair of them – and says she is incensed by what she describes as the “insensitivity” of the plan and “lack of consultation” with the families and survivors.
The applicants, Danny Martin Lafferty and Annette Lafferty, came to her home to inform her of the plan, but she says she asked them to leave.
Asked to respond on the families’ concerns, Mr Lafferty declined to comment.
Part of the redevelopment plans includes the erection of 10 lit steel poles as what is described as a “respectful ode” to the lives lost in the explosion.
The other eight people who died were Catherine O’Donnell and her 13-year-old son James Monaghan, fashion student Jessica Gallagher, Martin McGill, Sydney native James O’Flaherty, shop worker Martina Martin, carpenter Hugh “Hughie” Kelly and 14-year-old Leona Harper.
In their original submission sent in April last year, the Laffertys said they were aware of the sensitivities involved.
They looked at other sites, but could not find anywhere else suitable for such a filling station. They also contended the nearest filling station is 10km away in Dunfanaghy or Termon.
“I can advise that the next of kin of all of the victims have been contacted by the applicants to advise that an application is to be made to the authority for the proposed development,” the original application stated.
They proposed a “state of the art development” with memorials to those who died in the tragedy.
“While Creeslough and the wider Donegal community was shook by the event, the village should not be defined by it and therefore the rebuilding of this premises will be a step forward for the whole community and hopefully allow for some semblance of normality to resume with the village,” they said.
Discussing the commemorative aspect of the planning application, Flanagan shakes her head.
“Ten steel poles? Bob and Shauna died in an explosion, there was no fire, but they were wrapped in steel and cement – can you imagine how insensitive that is? Every family member knows that,” she says.
“If you look at the plans you can see that the memorial is a tiny patch of land beside a bike rack. How are you supposed to go in there and say, ‘excuse me, I’m grieving, I want to lay a few flowers’ when people are shopping and getting their petrol?
“I think there should be a memorial garden there, full stop, for the people of the village, for the children of the village. Shauna’s class are still all traumatised.”
At Flanagan’s feet is a snoozing French bulldog, Kylo, “Shauna’s dog”.
“There’s lot of photos of her falling asleep with Kylo. He now sleeps at the end of the bed with me. Kylo is the only connection I have to the two of them.”
Daily walks with Kylo and frequent visits to see her family in Dublin – Flanagan moved to Creeslough in 2019 when her daughter was two – have become her routine.
Her grief is “physical and mental”.
“There’s some good days and there’s some days you’re just enraged,” she says.
“The last two-and-a-half years have been horrific, I’m just torn apart in every way. I have no more memories with my child or Bob.”
What makes her keep going?
“I think it’s because Bob and Shauna loved life – and somebody has to fight for their justice. If I’m gone, who else is doing it? That’s the fact of the matter and I have to fight for them and for justice.”
Bonds forged with other bereaved families and survivors have helped her cope; one of her closest relationships is with Donna Harper, who lost her 14-year-old daughter, Leona, in the explosion.
The pair hug tightly as Flanagan welcomes her into the cottage. A third woman, Christine Evans, who survived the blast, then arrives and embraces them.
“They’re warriors, the two of them,” says Evans.
“We’re the three amigos, we try to stick together as best we can. I would be lost without Áine and Donna.”
Evans (52) was working at the service station on the day of the explosion and was packing ham on the deli counter where she heard an “unmerciful bang”.
Part of her “died that day”, she says.
“I survived but I’m not the same person I was. And then of course you have survivor’s guilt. You think, why did I survive and my friend died or those children died? I would much prefer to take one of their places, but then if my children hear me say that ... it’s been a horrible time,” she says.
Evans moved to Creeslough almost five years ago to be close to her daughter who had moved to Dunfanaghy; she “fell in love” with the place on her first visit and decided to stay.
“I had just come out of a bad relationship and I was a bit lost. I thought this would be my ‘happy ever after’,” she says, smiling.
But she is now desperate to leave in the wake of the planning application and has applied for a housing transfer back to Louth.
“It’s absolutely horrendous what the families went through – Donegal County Council allowing planning permission for the redevelopment is just another kick in the teeth for them.”
Driving by the site each day, she says she can’t bear the thought of “that gate being opened and work starting”.
“I couldn’t stay here after this, it’s far too hard,” she says.
She is among those who have formally objected to the planning proposal and believes the most fitting tribute is a single memorial garden.
“It not’s a very good idea to build on the same site where 10 people lost their lives. I think it’s insensitive. I agree the village does need a shop – but on that site, no. It’s just not right, it’s not right at all,” she says.
“I know some people have said we can’t have memorials everywhere but this is 10 people, it’s not one or two.
“This is one of the biggest tragedies ever to happen in Donegal. Therefore I think it would be very fitting to have some sort of memorial garden.
“All the families are coming together on this. There’s fight in the group, they’re going to fight to the bitter end. They’re not going to take this lying down, definitely not.”
Under a cloudless blue sky, the three women go to the site.
Cars whizz by on the country road on a warm Tuesday afternoon as children spill out of the school.
For Harper (46), who is from Letterkenny, around 15 miles away, each visit is traumatic.
She has not been to the site in a few months and is struck by the lack of acknowledgment of the tragedy; she believes a temporary glass case containing 10 candles which was placed in front of the hoarding for the first anniversary should have remained in place.
“There’s nothing there – you wouldn’t know this is where it actually happened,” she says.
“That’s hard, when you come two-and-a-half years later and there’s nothing. I had teddies and a few other things left here for Leona, and everything is gone. The stuff is just taken away ...
“For me, when I come to Creeslough and I look at that boarding, I imagine everything.
“Some people forget and some people block it out but I remember it all. At the same time, you get a sense of calmness in a way because that’s where my daughter took her last breath. That’s where I would hope her soul left her body.
“So I think it’s important there is a memorial garden. There is a petition online with over 5,000 signatures from all over Ireland and England calling for that as well.
“They say they have nowhere else to build – well take a look around you. There’s r everywhere.”
Leona Harper’s body was the last recovered from the site; her mother stayed a full 24 hours standing across the road watching emergency rescue crews search through the night.
The teenager had come to Creeslough for a sleepover in her friend’s house and spoke to Donna Harper five minutes before the explosion. She told her mother she loved her.
“She was the last person; that was a hard stand. There was a room made up in the hospital and you had the choice to go up and wait. I couldn’t leave. I stood across from that shop watching everything,” says Harper.
“It was around lunchtime that we knew. It was the dogs from the search and rescue team in the North that located her. The digger driver, I wouldn’t even know how to describe that poor man having to do that.”
Fiercely opposed to the redevelopment of the site, Harper says Donegal County Council’s decision to grant planning permission was “devastating”.
Creating a memorial on a “little strip of grass” is wrong, she says.
“The thoughts of 10 steel poles going up is absolutely heartbreaking – because our loved ones died with concrete and steel on top of them.”
Last weekend it emerged that Donegal County Council had urged An Bord Pleanála to uphold its decision.
Responding to the objections and appeals from two legal firms representing families, the council said it “fully acknowledges the tragic events in Creeslough on 7th of October 2022 and recognises the trauma that those effected (sic) by those events have endured”.
However, it argued that many of the grounds of appeal did not fall within the parameters for assessing planning applications as set out in the Planning and Development Act 2000.
Harper says she is “hoping and praying” that their request for an oral hearing is granted. The families are also campaigning for a public inquiry.
In a statement on Thursday, An Bord Pleanála said no decision has yet been made on the oral hearing request. The body said there are “no timelines for a decision to be made on any potential oral hearing”.
Harper, who has also two sons, said it is “extremely important” the oral hearing goes ahead “for the simple fact there is an ongoing investigation”.
“So far, I am quite happy with what the gardaí are doing in their investigation – but there is so much still out there that we need to know.
“I need to know why my daughter’s life was taken. I need to know how it happened. I need to know in the run-up to October 7th, 2022, the days, the hours, potentially the weeks beforehand, what was going on.
“That would help all of us out there that are seeking answers and the truth.
“So I think really that the calling of that oral hearing is vital. If that building is going to be demolished there could be vital evidence lost. That valid structure of that building could hold evidence.
“I am fighting for justice for my daughter. Leona’s right to life was taken from her and as a mother I want to know how that was allowed to happen.
“My daughter went to the shop and never came home.”
The fight to get answers has compounded her grief, and there are days when “you don’t even want to get out of bed, that’s the truth of it”.
“But then you just look at her picture, my house is like a shrine to my daughter,” Harper says, blinking away tears.
“Leona was amazing, full of life and very switched on for someone so young. She talked about being an art teacher and spoke to her principal about this, she was very talented.
“She loved dancing, the outdoors, she played for Letterkenny rugby club and was a big Liverpool FC fan.
“Jamie, her brother, and Leona were only a year apart. He lost his best friend. They went everywhere together, the discos, the farm tractor shows ... Anthony, her older brother, adored his sister, and my husband Hugh was a doting father.
“So it’s been really tough. Every day is different. You wake up and just try to get through the day as best you can but it’s with you all the time, every minute, every day.”
Back at her cottage, Áine Flanagan locks her daughter’s bedroom.
“As a mother, you want to keep the smell of your child. I want to hold Shauna there, if that make sense.
“I know it’s not logical or rational but I think when you’re so traumatised and the way things have happened, you feel the world is against you. This is all I’ve left of her.”
