On 11th May 1985, Bradford City Football Club was in a celebratory mood. They'd just defeated Millwall to come top of the Third Division and been promoted, and had overcome a pretty dire financial situation on top of this. As a result, 11,067 supporters, including several members of my family, packed into Valley Parade to watch the final game of the season against Lincoln City. The ground was due to undergo huge changes over the summer, with the old wooden stand due to be demolished and replaced by concrete.

About 40 minutes into the game, a small fire started in that very stand, probably the result of a spectator dropping a match. The fire quickly spread until, within minutes, the entire stand was one massive blaze. Many escaped, some thanks to the bravery of other fans, police and club officials. However, 56 died - 54 from Bradford and 2 from Lincoln. They ranged in age from Samuel Firth, aged 86, to James Bulmer, Andrew Fletcher and Adrian Wright, who were just 11. Some families lost several people. My cousin lost schoolfriends. 

In addition, over 265 people were injured. Many of these were treated at Bradford Royal Infirmary by Consultant Plastic Surgeon David Sharpe, who as a result of the fire pioneered new treatments and techniques to treat the victims. He was later awarded an OBE.

Following the disaster the Bradford City Appeal raised thousands to help the victims of the fire, and the Plastic Surgery and Burns Research Unit at the University of Bradford was set up in the months that followed. In recent years, the Burns Unit has been at risk of closure due to lack of funds. With the help of Bradford City, who have been running an active appeal over the past year, hundreds of thousands have been raised to help keep it afloat, but more is still needed.

Our family have been Bradford City supporters for as long as I can remember, and even though I am now living Down South I make what my Dad calls the "pilgrimage" up to VP as often as I can, as well as watching City play in such exciting locations as Barnet, Aldershot and Oxford. I ran the Bupa 10K last year and am running it again in 2011 for the Burns Unit. I'm keen to raise as much money as I possibly can to help them continue with their groundbreaking, lifesaving work and research. I'm always concerned that so many people don't know about the fire, and that it has been eclipsed by other disasters such as Hillsborough. Last year, thousands attended a memorial service in the centre of Bradford marking 25 years since the fire, and many remarked that even 25 years on the emotional scars are still very real. It's crucial that what happened is never forgotten.

May God bless the 56 who died, all those who miss them; may God bless Bradford City; and may God bless the beautiful, warm-hearted city of Bradford.

More information:

If you look hard enough, you can find television footage of the fire on the internet. I'm not going to post it here, because Yorkshire Television vowed never to show it again because it's too shocking. You can see edited footage on the following tribute, posted on YouTube by a Liverpool supporter: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2rD4jI1x6SU

The following article includes further information about the disaster and the work of the Burns Unit: http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/uk/8648794.stm You can find even more details at http://news.bbc.co.uk/sport1/hi/football/teams/b/bradford_city/4529307.stm

You can find photographs of the fire at http://www.mirrorfootball.co.uk/archive/The-Bradford-fire-25th-anniversary-special-A-dark-day-that-changed-football-forever-article422165.html

If you would rather donate to the general fundraising page rather than provide sponsorship, you can find it at http://www.justgiving.com/bcfcburnsunitappeal

For information on Bradford City, the greatest football club in the world, visit http://www.bradfordcityfc.co.uk 

And finally...

The following article was written by my cousin, Chris Wilcock, for City Gent, Bradford City's fanzine. They don't have a website, so I'm reproducing the article here:

* * *

"My very first football match was at Valley Parade to watch a dour 0-0 match between City and Millwall. Thanks to Terry Frost’s still brilliant book I can see it was in the 1982-3 season.

Whilst the game itself was instantly forgettable, the memory of the atmosphere and of sitting next to my Dad at a proper football match for the first time will live with me forever. We always sat in ‘the paddock’. There are many, many things I would like to thank my Dad for, but for taking me to watch Bradford City all those years ago was the beginning of a lifelong affirmation to the club, so Dad if your reading this – thank you.

There are many things I remember about 11^th May 1985, many more that I wish I could forget, but I cannot, though God knows I’ve tried to sometimes.

I remember reading the T&A’s souvenir supplement whilst sat on the front step earlier that morning. I remember holding the tickets/tokens that my Dad had got for the match itself.

Of the day itself, no effort is required to recall certain sights, sounds and even smells which conjure completely the full horror and terror of that fateful day. I remember all these things clearly, vividly. They are indelibly impregnated on my psyche forever.

At this point I can feel the emotional tears beginning to surface, so I’m going stop, walk away, and compose myself.

I remember the aftermath.

I remember watching YTV’s news later that evening replaying the events whilst the rest of the family looked on, shocked into complete and utter silence.

I remember hearing John Helm’s commentary and the anxiety and concern in his tone of voice.

I remember my mate skidding his bike to a halt and the end of my drive later that evening, and noting that the soles of his trainers had warped and baked solid with the heat, we said not a single word, only embracing each other before turning away.

I remember playing football with a few mates in the tennis courts at the Worth Valley middle school I attended on the Friday before, I cannot forget that some of those friends were not there again for another kick about on Monday morning, or any morning, ever again.

I remember that instead of the normal morning assembly, we had a special memorial service for school friends who had tragically died, pupils and teachers crying and comforting each other. I remember we planted oak trees in the school grounds to commemorate them. (Oak was chosen as it is wood that is difficult to burn, and even as young as I was, the symbolism wasn’t lost on me) I hope those trees are still there. I remember running home from school that day and blurting out in the middle of tea that friends of mine had died and then sobbing uncontrollably, and of seeing the look of disbelief in my family’s faces.

I remember that the fireman that lived opposite us who was on duty that day, never really recovered, and that eventually he had to take voluntary redundancy even after months and months of intense counselling.

I remember how we used to chant “this is the valley, the valley of death” (anyone else remember this chant?) and how it was never sung again.

I remember hearing of Roy ‘chubby’ Brown’s infamous bonfire/BBQ joke told (at St.George’s hall?) not long after the event, and also a rumour of a friends bigger brother attempting to storm the stage having already hurled an ashtray at him!

I remember that even in this dark place however, little shafts of light would still somehow filter through, the lessons learnt over the next few weeks and months kick started developments at the Bradford specialist burns unit within BRI and Bradford University. These gave us the Bradford sling and other pioneering medical techniques all of which continue to do great work to this day. The Popplewell inquiry, which sought to ensure greater ground safety.

I remember the subsequent fund raising events by all kinds of people.

Club officials, players, all the emergency services people, generous and compassionate strangers, fans, family and friends, all took part.

I remember buying the 7” single “You’ll never walk alone” which was produced to raise funds. I remember a 12 mile run we did at our school, trekking over moorland somewhere near Ilkley.

I remember speaking to a girl I knew years later whose face had been badly scarred, we were chatting on the bus one day when I saw that her bus pass contained a photograph of her taken before the event. I remember thinking that perhaps she thought, that if she looked at the photograph and saw her once perfect face, that she was somehow still looking in the mirror, that she could see herself how SHE continued to see herself, and not how others saw her with their obvious disapproving looks. I liked to think that the photo proved to be a source of comfort to her, in her darkest moments, I hope so.

I remember that as well as the physical wounds, it is sometimes the mental scars of that day which unites many City fans, forever bonded, as felt at any of the annual memorial services I’ve ever attended, all treated with the utmost reverence.

I recognise that for some City fans over a certain age, the chant of “city ‘til I die” is somehow more heartfelt, more poignant. At each and every home game just before kick-off, I look across from my view from the Kop and say a silent prayer for those 56 souls and for those who were changed that day and who continue to be, I pray to remember them… because I cannot forget.            

I think all the work that the City Gent, fans, volunteers, the selling of badges, collections, sponsorships, donations, the Bradford Burns research unit and others is absolutely inspirational and I hope it continues.

Perhaps it is time for younger city fans to view the archive film footage, if only to ensure that the horrific events of that day are truly understood even by those fans too young to have witnessed it for themselves.

I know from a serving fireman within Bradford, that parts of the film have already been used in their training videos to help explain how flash fires occur.

But I hope you’ll understand, when I say that personally I could never bring myself to watch it, because some things are still too raw and too painful even after 25 years."