Not for the first time the world watched scenes from Belfast with utter disbelief. Tiny children, ribbons in their hair, were forced to walk to school through a tunnel of hatred. Adults hurled abuse, stones and bottles - on one occasion a blast bomb - in the direction of little girls.
Mothers stoic, looking straight ahead, continued to bring their small charges to school through the terror. It didn't seem real.
The protest in North Belfast had begun' at the end of the school term in June when Protestants mounted a blockade on the entrance to the Catholic Holy Cross national school. Police stopped parents and children walking up Ardoyne Road for their own protection. It had been hoped the dispute - over claims by Protestants in the tiny loyalist enclave of Glenbryn that their rights in the Ardoyne area were being eroded - would be resolved over the summer holidays, but on September 3rd, the first day of the new school term, both police and protesters were back again.
So the world watched again, as police in riot gear formed a perspex corridor with shields so that the Holy Cross pupils could walk safely to school. As the army set up a steel barrier beside Alliance Avenue. As terrified little girls with pigtails were spat on and abused by grown men and women. As the same grown men and women shouted "Fenian whores" and "Paedophiles" at the parents. As stones and bottles rained down. As the children ran the last few yards to the safety of their school, hot tears of fear mixed with relief coursing down their faces.
We watched live on Sky on the third day of the protest, when during the walk to school a blast bomb exploded nearby and the children scattered, their distressed parents trying to find them in the confusion. But they were back the next day, some deciding to use the alternative route up the Crumlin Road, but most braving the abusive mobs despite the obvious dangers to their children and themselves.
The media were a constant presence as the protest continued through September - incredibly it wasn't postponed the day after the Twin Towers tragedy - and into October. One parent described to reporters what it was like to walk down the road.
"You can hardly breathe, you just keep your eyes straight ahead. It seems like it will never end and there is a really eerie atmosphere and such a sense of relief when you finally reach the gates".
For their part, the local Protestants tried to articulate their grievances but few understood and riots raged nightly in the area.
"They are bringing terrorists up here," said one man referring to some parents who are known republicans. "We can't go near their shops or their post office or go to the library. That is what this protest is about. I don't like to see children getting hurt but that's the way it is".
The reinstatement of the institutions saw First Minister David Trimble and Deputy First Minister Mark Durkan engaging with both sides for the first time.
The three-month dispute was settled after Protestant residents accepted a package of proposals aiming to help solve issues such as sectarian violence, unemployment and housing in the area.
These days the Holy Cross pupils walk happily to school. Experts say it will be years before the psychological effects of the protest are known.
Bu there was a ray of sunshine at the end of the year, when it was reported that thousands of Christmas cards and parcels had arrived for the children from abroad, mostly from the US and Canada where people were appalled by what they saw happening in the streets of Belfast.