My first comes on the day itself. I don't remember watching the game or the terrible aftermath, but I do remember seeing pictures of it, probably on the news that night. My little 8 year old brain couldn't deal with what I saw and it hit home when they showed a boy, maybe a teenager but still a child, lying on the pitch. It looked like he had died. I can't remember if I cried then or afterwards but to try to console me, my parents told me that they had said afterwards the boy was ok, he had survived.
Since then, when I've heard mention of Hillsborough I think about that boy. Deep down I know he was probably one of the 96.
My second memory comes when I was in my Politics class in U6th. Every lesson we'd start by talking about things that were in the news. It was our teacher's way of making sure we were keeping up with current affairs and getting the all important recent examples to litter our essays with.
The class was mostly boys and this part of the lesson usually descended into football chat. But this time was different somehow. Phil, a massive Liverpool fan, said 'ten years on and there's still no justice'.
His words hung in the air and no one knew what to say.
And ten years on from that, I still don't.