Exclusive:
It was Friday April 30 1999 - 25 years ago to this day - that racist and hom*ophobic bomber David Copeland planted a bomb in the Admiral Duncan pub in London's Soho killing four people and injuring 70 more. Gary Fellowes survived but, remarkably, it wasn't the only time he's cheated death
Asked if he’s the luckiest - or unluckiest - man in Britain, Gary Fellowes isn’t sure.
He finds himself at the intersection of luck and misfortune after escaping death twice - first when a bomb containing 1,500 nails went off in a Soho pub and killed four people. Just 18 months later, he survived the Hatfield train crash, even though he was standing in the buffet car where four people died.
Surviving two of the UK’s worst disasters has undoubtedly taught him how to be resilient and live his life to the full. Now, twenty-five years on from the nail bomb blast at Soho's Admiral Duncan pub, Gary, 65, reflects on cheating death twice.
He had just finished a pint of cold Fosters and was set to head to the bar and order another when a friend introduced him to a stranger. Little did he know that deciding to stay and chat would change his life forever. It was Friday, April 30 1999 - the first warm spring evening and he’d come to the Admiral Duncan - one of Soho’s oldest gay pubs - after work to start the May bank holiday.
Gary had been coming to his local for ten years - he loved how it was a ‘safe space’ for the gay community and the interior reminded him of a Cornish smugglers' pub. As he leaned against a jukebox blaring out Millenium by Robbie Williams, a sudden flash filled the room as if a camera had gone off. “I could hear what sounded like metal hitting the ceiling and walls,” Gary told The Mirror ahead of the 25th anniversary today.
“I heard someone say ‘Oh s***’ and then everything stopped. The lights went off and it was pitch black. There was no screaming, just a deafening silence. Initially I thought someone had poured beer on the jukebox which caused some kind of electrical reaction. But as I stood in the pitch black with smoke swirling in front of my eyes, breathing in the strong smell of sulphur, I realised it was something much more sinister.”
Only then did Gary, who was working as a civil servant, think back to a few moments earlier when he’d spotted a Metropolitan Police poster in the mens toilets warning people to beware of explosives. A week earlier on Saturday, April 24, a bomb had exploded in London’s Brick Lane - home to a large Bangladeshi community - injuring 13 people. It followed another nail bomb detonating in Brixton on Saturday, April 17 which injured 48 people. The explosion sent nails flying in all directions, blowing windows out and blasting a parked car across the street.
“I remember thinking the gay community will probably be next,” he recalls. “And several minutes later we were. Oddly I felt completely calm although I’m asthmatic and I remember thinking I don’t know if I’m going to make it out of here alive. I was concerned I might not see my parents again.” Gary was one of the lucky ones. That night racist and hom*ophobic bomber David Copeland cruelly stole the lives of four people and seriously injured 78 others, with a bomb containing 1,500 nails.
Andrea Dykes, 27, was four months pregnant with her first child and was meeting up with friends Nik Moore, 31 and John Light, 32, to celebrate her news before seeing Mamma Mia!. Her husband, Julian, whom she married in August 1997, was seriously injured in the blast that evening.
Stumbling outside, Gary remembers dozens of police officers and emergency service workers urging everyone to clear the area. “People were looking aghast and I wasn’t sure why, I now know I was in shock,” Gary recalls. “I was on autopilot and headed to another gay pub, The Kings Arms on Poland Street. One of the bar staff said ‘You’ve got stuff in your hair and blood all over the back of your shirt.’"
Remarkably, Gary suffered minor injuries and will always be grateful he stopped to chat which meant he was 20 feet away when the device went off. He may not have survived the explosion if he had been at the bar. “I was very lucky I had burnt hands and face and metal sticking out of my shoes. At the time it was fashionable to wear Doc Marten boots with a steel toe cap. That’s probably what saved my foot.”
“I’ve been back to the pub since, I was determined not to let him win. I still refuse to say his name because I believe he wanted fame and notoriety. Why would I help him achieve that by saying his name? I can’t comprehend the evil. I hope he never gets released from prison. I wouldn’t put it past him to do something like that again even if he got out in his 70s.”
If that wasn’t terrifying enough, fast forward 18 months and Gary was involved in another disaster - the Hatfield Rail Crash which killed four people and injured 70. On October 17, 2000, a train bound for Leeds left London King's Cross and was travelling at 115mph when it derailed south of Hatfield station at 12:23. The cause of the accident was later determined to be the left-hand rail fracturing as the train passed over it.
The restaurant coach, the eighth vehicle in the set, overturned onto its side and struck an overhead line gantry after derailing, resulting in severe damage. Those who died were all in the restaurant coach. Gary had boarded the train at Kings Cross and was travelling to Peterborough to surprise his dad on his 80th birthday when he heard a big bang.
Recalling the horrific incident, Gary said: “I initially thought it was another bomb. I remember saying out loud ‘Oh my God, not again!’ I’d gone to the restaurant car to grab a coffee. After the bang, I could feel the carriage violently shaking and it started to fill with mist. As we started turning over I could hear people screaming and I was thrown into the vestibule area.”
The whole incident took 17 seconds but Gary remembers it felt like it took forever for the train to grind to a halt. Even when it came to a stop, he was scared another train might run into them. “I had a broken leg - my ankle was swinging free in my Timberland boot. I thought my ankle was going to fall off. Instead of feeling panic, I remember thinking ‘If people have survived a nail bomb and can go on with their lives with missing limbs then so can I.’”
Rushed to hospital, Gary had surgery that afternoon - and ironically a surgical nail fitted to his leg. He said: "I had some internal bruising and was in hospital for three weeks. I was feeling a little bit fragile and ironically they fixed my leg by putting a nail into my leg which I had taken out a couple of years later."
Travelling on trains and tubes after that did make him anxious and he also developed a fear of flying even though he’d hopped on planes ‘as much as buses’ in the past and dreamed of becoming an air steward. But two years ago when he turned 63, Gary faced his fears and is now part of BA’s air cabin crew. Surviving the disasters has given him a new lease of life.
“Sometimes when I realise what I’ve been through I feel mixed emotions like I’m both the unluckiest and the luckiest man in the world,” added Gary. “But I’ve always been a glass-half-full kind of guy so I prefer to say I’m the luckiest because I survived them. I’ve always lived life to the fullest and I still do. If my experiences have taught me anything it’s that life can be short and you’ve got to make the most of every single day.”
