Father of tragic mineshaft victim feels betrayed, bitter and angry

‘Thoughts of Alison lying down there haunt me’

Next month it will be five years since Ayrshire mum of two and lawyer Alison Hume fell down a disused mineshaft and lost her life. For her father Ian McEwan, the pain is as raw as if it was yesterday.

His story is a tale of heartbreak and frustration. Of a million ‘if onlys’. And of an ordinary man fighting to get justice for his daughter, but feeling thwarted at every turn. Of course, most of all it’s a story of overwhelming sorrow that his much-loved daughter is no longer with us.

As Ian talks about Alison, who was 44 when she died, he frequently breaks down in tears. He often talks about her in the present tense, still unable to accept the fact she’s gone. Even now, he can hardly fathom all that went on the night Alison died.

He feels heartbroken.

But he also feels a burning sense of injustice, of bitterness at “the system” he believes has let him down. The bottom line is that Ian, of Newmilns, Ayrshire, feels his daughter died needlessly and that people should be made to answer for the decisions he believes led to her death.

Most of us are familiar with the story of Alison’s tragic death of her fall down the 45 ft mineshaft during a shortcut home one evening. And of the fact she lay, stricken, for eight hours down the disused shaft near Galston while those there to rescue her dithered about how best to get her to the surface.

A Fatal Accident Inquiry and subsequent report by Steven Torrie, Chief Inspector of Fire and Rescue Authorities, mainly laid the blame for the failed rescue at the door of Strathclyde Fire and Rescue. Indeed, Ian, 68, claims he has been told by an MSP with a legal background that he could bring a private prosecution against one of the fire service chiefs in charge that fateful night.

Ian’s a former lorry driver. He doesn’t have huge funds to spare. He feels it’s a risk he can’t take. It’s an agonising conclusion that has left him heartbroken.

“I want to fight for justice for my daughter. Of course I do,” he says.

“But what if we lost? The fire service would fight us for years with the best legal brains money could buy. It would be like bashing my head against a brick wall. I could be left with legal costs that could run into thousands.

“But of course I’d love to get justice for Alison, even five years on.”

The FAI into Alison’s death found the fire service “should have saved her”. The rescue was delayed by senior officers who showed “rigid compliance” with health and safety procedures, the inquiry concluded. Many took it as a tragic consequence of the health and safety culture that has permeated many public services.

Exactly why Alison wasn’t rescued is complicated. Ian firmly believes fire chiefs quoted health and safety legislation while his daughter lay stricken. At the FAI, it emerged fire crews were frustrated at being stopped from going into the mineshaft to rescue her. That they were stopped from using equipment they believed could save her, because regulations stated it was for saving themselves, not members of the public.

However, Group Commander William Thomson, of Strathclyde Fire and Rescue, said rescue teams couldn’t risk further collapse of the mineshaft, which would have buried Alison and the firefighter and would have been “unsurvivable”. Question him a little deeper and Ian will name names, tell you exactly who he feels is responsible. He believes charges should be brought. But he also wants to stress there were heroes that night.

“Alexander Dunn was the firefighter lowered into the mineshaft to be with Alison. He should be given a bravery medal. He tried to keep her warm, to give her oxygen, to console her. He was devastated at her death. I thanked him for everything he’d done.

“He said: ‘I don’t know how you feel, sir, but I know how I feel. We should have had her out of there’.

“It gives me comfort that he stayed down there with her.”

He breaks down again.

Bitterness remains at the performance of some fire service chiefs there on the night, and afterwards.

“Brian Sweeney, who was Chief Fire and Rescue Officer of Strathclyde Fire and Rescue, claimed he’d written a letter of apology to the family. Let me assure you I’ve had nothing. Not by phone, by letter, nothing. Don’t I qualify for one? I’m her parent.”

I ask Ian if it would make a difference if he got an apology now. He considers before answering. “It would be too little, too late,” he says, shaking his head.

He feels hurt that no-one has faced charges. But there’s a strange coincidence that he feels rubbed salt into the wounds. “Sweeney retired on April 5,” he says. “Alison’s birthday. That hurt.”

Had it been a different person who’d lost their life, Ian believes there is someone would have fought tirelessly for justice for them Alison herself.

“It’s ironic. She would have fought tooth and nail.”

Alison became a lawyer later in life, after her divorce from husband Brian. “I think she thought ‘I’ll show him I can do something with my life’. I was so proud of her. Look at this…” he says, handing one of Alison’s business cards to me. “All the letters after her name.”

The memories start coming thick and fast. “She got a new car, a Mercedes. She came and sung the Mercedes-Benz song that was in that advert, stood at my door and sang every word. Then she said: ‘Come on Dad, let’s go out in my new car’,” he remembers.

“As wee girl, Alison used to come out in the trucks with me. Driving was in her blood. I used to think if anything ever happened to her, it would be a car smash, because she could be a bit heavy-footed.

“Even that night, she was saying, ‘Come on Dad, put your foot down. It can go like the wind!’ When I’m down, I think about that.”

It isn’t long, though, before he returns to that night.

“The thought of Alison lying down there for hours and hours, not getting the help she needed it haunts me,” he says. “The day I found out my daughter was gone will never leave me. My ex-wife Margaret and I had to identify the body. She just didn’t want to believe it was Alison. My heart was breaking.”

Ian takes comfort from the fact that Alison’s needless death touched so many people.

“The headlines went worldwide, it was such a horrible incident,” he says. “A man wrote to ‘the family of the late Alison Hume, Galston, Ayrshire’. He just wanted to say how sorry he was for our loss. I kept that, I just thought, ‘how kind’.”

Ian would dearly love to get justice. But he’s at a loss as to where to go from here.

“I’ll never blame the frontline fire crews, I blame the hierarchy,” he says. “I feel we’ve had doors slammed in our faces every step of the way. Bureaucracy’s a powerful machine. Trying to go up against them well, it’s nigh on impossible.

“I’ve tried to get justice. But I feel I’ve come to the end of the road.”

He turns and looks at the picture of Alison that takes pride of place in the living room. And he breaks down in tears once again.