Muriel Randolph


Bombs going off and Bomb Scares were prevalent in England in the mid 1970’s.  The IRA (Irish Republic Army) placed them and one never knew whether they were real bombs or not.


Randy and I were living in Great Barrow, a small town near Chester, on the Welsh border about a three hour train ride from London.  Every once in a while a bomb tore up the train tracks in between.


                        One Sunday we drove to Manchester, an hour away, for shopping and a movie.  On leaving the theatre we encountered crowds of people milling around, talking in low voices. We noticed many police trying to keep people in control.  What was going on?    It seems a bomb went off in the Lewis Department store where we had shopped earlier.  Three people were killed. Now one was supposed to go off in Kendall’s Department Store. Our car was parked on the top of that building.  We waited three hours and finally were told to get the car and leave fast. With trepidation we ran up eleven flights of foul smelling stairs to the roof, without a word to each other.  Scared and shaking, we got in the car and drove round and round, down the eleven floors, into the street, and back to Chester.


                        We were going to have dinner at the Hotel Grovesnor but people were streaming out of there into the street.  Another bomb scare.


                        On an Easter weekend we took the train to London.  We arrived and no bomb, but we couldn’t check our luggage anywhere because of a bomb scare.  So we went to the Capital Hotel where the company Randy worked for had a room for us.  This hotel is across the street from Harrod’s Department Store. I was searched before entering Harrod’s as well as Madame Tussaud’s Wax Museum.  I was carrying a fairly good-sized black leather handbag, which I presume was thought might hold a bomb. 


                        This particular weekend most Londoners left town and everything went on a Holiday Schedule, including trains, buses, restaurants, theatres and those who served them.  The city was exploding with rude visitors mainly from Denmark and Holland.


                        On Good Friday we went to see “Jesus Christ – Superstar”.  Our seats were in the top balcony that seemed like miles from the stage. Upon exiting the theatre, not a taxi was in sight and we headed for the underground.  Swarms of pushing people were ahead and behind us.  There had been a bomb scare.  The ticket booth to the escalator had run out of tickets so the gate was opened to the raging mob.  The escalator to the trains was a long way down.  I had hold of Randy’s loose raincoat belt, which came off when a person came between us and Randy got on the train without me.  We were separated but he waited for me at our stop for the hotel. 


                        IT WAS AN EXCITING WEEKEND  !  !  !  !  !


                                                                               * * *