The greatest day became one of the darkest days. How could this happen? One moment there was a tickertape explosion, the sky thick with plumes of red smoke, the new smell of celebration.
Then, in the next step, came the piercing shrill of screams, flashing blue lights and the overwhelming sense of horror. They had descended in their hundreds of thousands in celebration. They left having witnessed a tragedy, knowing a city was in mourning.
We don’t know why a lone man ploughed into revellers in his car, but we do know the impact it has had, the lives that have been wrecked and the nightmare that has been inflicted.
How will anyone be able to think about Liverpool’s 20th league championship without making the association to 6pm on Monday, May 26, when the worlds of innocent people caved in?
To walk along The Strand at 8.30pm, to see it empty except for a few policemen in their high visibility jackets, was surreal, like a scene from one of the apocalyptic Hollywood films.
On the floor were bottles, empty smoke canisters, the remnants of those tickertape cannons and even a discarded picnic chair, but there were no people. The reason for that became obvious as you looked up Water Street.
A car collided with a crowd of Liverpool fans at their Premier League trophy parade on Monday
Police officers rushed to the scene of an incident in Water Street in Liverpool’s city centre
A ’53-year-old white British man from the Liverpool area’ was swiftly detained by police
Nothing prepares you for seeing an inflatable blue and white crime scene tent in real life, surrounded by a flotilla of ambulances and police vans.
Water Street is associated with great journeys, it is where so many old shipping companies had their offices in days gone by and it is even mentioned in chapter six of Moby Dick.
But now it had become synonymous with darkness, fear, the kind of incident you have watched unfold in mainland Europe, but never think would happen on your doorstep.
Daragh Leavy, a lifelong Liverpool fan, had driven over from Ireland on Saturday with his brother, Mark. They stood at the top of Water Street at 7.45pm, haunted and traumatised.
A few seconds before, a jumbled bunch of helium balloons, spelling ‘Champions 20’, drifted over the top of the Town Hall. It seemed symbolic as the happiness that they signified drifted away too.
‘We are lucky to be alive,’ said Daragh. ‘We were walking down to the NCP, where our car was parked, staying to the right of Water Street. We saw the car, he came roaring down the road, around a police van.
‘He had hit one person and we saw him go through a lot of people. There were a lot of people trapped under the car, 20 or 30 were trying to lift it up to get them out. We had come to celebrate and then we saw this. It was awful.’
Mark added: ‘I will never forget the noise of people being hit and I will never forget the look on a policeman’s face and his uniform covered in blood. My God, what he must have seen.’
Authorities say both Prime Minister Keir Starmer and Home Secretary Yvette Cooper are being kept fully briefed on the developing situation
Pictured: The man who was driving the car in Liverpool
A video later emerged online showing the distressing moment the car went through the crowd
Chris Jones, from Heswall, Wirral, had met up with family and friends at Rigby’s pub on Dale Street when he noticed a car, yards away, trying to go towards Water Street, with angry fans surrounding it, remonstrating with the driver.
‘He was trying to force his way through and fans were banging on his window shouting at him for going the wrong way. It was all supposed to be cordoned off, so he’d gone through barriers.
‘He started reversing back then went forward, beeped his horn, then started going towards the town hall.
‘Someone managed to open his door then he slammed it shut and careered off. People were chasing him down the road, banging on his windows.
‘I just thought it was someone who’d gone the wrong way. Next minute, some guy came running back towards us all screaming there’d been a terror attack.
‘I didn’t correlate the two. It just turned into absolute chaos. There were fireworks still going off, so that just added to the sense of panic. People didn’t know what was really going on, but you could hear the noise, the screams. It’s just horrific.’
Three hours earlier, the place was jumping, the music was blaring and a season of outstanding football was being honoured in the passionate way that Liverpool fans regard as their badge of honour. They had been waiting 35 years to do this and were in the mood for a Bank Holiday extravaganza.
On the team’s 10-mile open top bus journey, which started at Allerton Maze and snaked along Queens Drive, through Tuebrook and into the city centre, the scenes had been delirious.
Liverpool fans lined the streets in their thousands to celebrate the club’s Premier League title
Mohamed Salah waved to supporters who cheered him and his team-mates earlier in the day
Manager Arne Slot, who has done such an incredible job since succeeding Jurgen Klopp, had his phone out capturing as many images as he could. Earlier in the afternoon, long before the tragedy occurred, Slot had spoken with the compassion and class he has consistently shown since starting his role last June.
‘Of course, I have won a few things before and they were beautiful,’ he told Liverpool’s TV channel. ‘But this? This you cannot compare with anything.
‘You say it feels spiritual and I agree. I looked into the crowd — young, old, I looked into their eyes and I could see it all. It feels exactly like that.
‘You cannot imagine there are any more citizens of Liverpool. All through the route, there were so, so, so many people when you thought there would only be a few. It is beyond belief.’
What was to happen next was beyond belief. David O’Reilly, who had come to Liverpool with his wife, Tina, had a replica ‘20’ medal draped around his neck, but there was no happiness as we spoke on Dale Street. ‘It’s s**t, isn’t it?’ he asked. There was no need to answer.
‘We had been in a bar, just enjoying things and then we saw the police flying everywhere. We got outside the bar and they began moving us back.
On the team’s 10-mile open top bus journey, the scenes had been delirious
‘A few people got their phones out to take pictures, but some lads started screaming to put them away and show some respect. It’s just destroyed everything. I cannot believe what has happened.’
Equally stunned was Jesper Nilsen, who had come over from Copenhagen for the weekend of his dreams, but found himself in the middle of a nightmare.
‘This was going to be a night for partying, but not now,’ he said solemnly. ‘Everyone was enjoying themselves, everyone was happy. Then you see all the yellow jackets, you see people crying and screaming and you know how bad it is. This is something else.’
It is — it is something unimaginable. The day should have been red. How devastating that it turned black.
