Bradford Fire: 25 Years On: Triumph turned to tragedy on day Bradford will never forget

THE gallon bottle of Bell's Whisky presented to Trevor Cherry was meant to be a symbol of an unforgettable season where Bradford City had triumphed against all the odds.

Instead, for the past quarter of a century, it has been a graphic reminder of a truly horrific day when 56 men, women and children lost their lives at a football match.

Cherry, now 62, had been handed the giant bottle ahead of the final game in Bradford's season against Lincoln City as recognition of his achievement in steering the club to the Third Division title.

The Bantams, who just two years earlier had gone into receivership amid debts of 400,000, had last won a trophy almost six decades earlier so being presented with the Manager of the Year award by sponsors Bell's was a proud moment for Cherry.

It should have been the prelude to a day of celebration, only for triumph to quickly turn to tragedy in the most awful of circumstances.

"That day is one no-one will ever forget," recalls the former England international when talking to the Yorkshire Post ahead of tomorrow's 25th anniversary of the fire.

"Everyone had been looking forward to it so much. We had won the championship at Bolton a few days earlier so the final game just didn't matter. I was expecting it to be a bit of a showbusiness game, more like a testimonial where we could celebrate winning the league with our fans.

"It had been a long season so the players deserved to enjoy themselves. Instead, it turned out to be horrendous."

May 11, 1985, was going to bring long overdue good news to Bradford, a city whose fortunes had been left battered and bruised in the preceding years. The trauma of the Yorkshire Ripper and the decline of its once thriving industries had taken their toll but here, at last, was cause for celebration.

After more than half a century spent trapped in the bottom two divisions, the perennial strugglers were on the up. Under the astute leadership of Cherry and assistant Terry Yorath, City had been worthy winners of the Third Division – pipping George Graham's Millwall to the title in the process.

Stuart McCall, on the cusp of a hugely successful career, was the driving force in midfield behind an attack featuring the wily old veteran Bobby Campbell, while the defence was marshalled by ever-reliable captain Peter Jackson. Throw in the likes of John Hendrie and Greg Abbott plus Cherry, who made 20 league appearances that season, and it is clear to see why the feelgood factor had descended on Valley Parade as the team took the deserved acclaim of the 11,076 crowd.

Everything was going well, with even the first half against Lincoln being a dreary affair doing little to dampen the mood.

Then, around 40 minutes into the game, a policeman walked up to assistant manager Yorath in the home dugout and asked where the nearest tap was.

Cherry, who had played in the title-clinching victory over Bolton five days earlier, recalls: "I had decided not to pick myself against Lincoln so spent the first half sitting in the directors' box.

"It meant that when the fire first broke out, I was not too far away. The first we knew anything was going on was when some smoke started to waft across from the seats to our left.

"I wondered what was the cause, but then turned back to the match. There was no real sense of alarm, just a feeling that someone would sort it out.

"Eventually, I decided to make my way along the back of the stand to the offices on the corner of Valley Parade but, even then, there was no panic. Everyone was very calm.

"But then, within a minute or so, the fire had started to take hold and that was when the panic set in, especially at the back of the stand where most of the damage was done."

The 'damage' that Cherry alludes to was caused by not only the wooden structure of the main stand but also its unique design.

Due to the stand being built into the hill that slopes down from the nearby Manningham Lane, anyone entering through the turnstiles from street level did so right at the back of the seats.

And with human instinct being to try and exit via the point of arrival, many supporters headed back up the stand to the dark and narrow passageway that ran along the very rear.

Unbeknown for those who took this option, however, the exit gates that led on to South Parade were locked and the turnstiles could only be moved by anyone entering from the street outside.

With black smoke now filling the air and making visibility impossible, panic broke out as the fire swallowed up all the available oxygen. A mad scramble ensued as supporters, some too late, realised only the green expanse of the pitch offered a way out of the hell.

Those already on the field knew little of what was going on out of sight in what just a few minutes earlier had been City's antiquated main stand. Cherry, who by now was in the brick building that housed the club offices and dressing room, was also still unaware of the true horror of what was happening.

"As the fire took hold, we were evacuated from the offices," recalls the then 37-year-old Bradford manager. "And it was only then that it became total chaos.

"We all moved up to the Belle Vue pub that used to sit at the top of Valley Parade, which is where I found my family. Because I was working, I had decided to sit separately, so it was a big relief to discover they were all safe.

"My wife had initially been unable to find our son Ian because he was with a couple of friends but, thankfully, he soon turned up."

Relieved to learn his family were safe, Cherry returned to Valley Parade to see what could be done to help. By now, it was evident there had been casualties with live footage of the unfolding disaster being beamed around the world, including the desperate shots of supporters attempting to help a supporter who had emerged from the stand with his clothes on fire.

The former Bradford manager recalls: "I didn't know what to do, so after checking everyone was okay, I walked back to the ground. I still didn't want to believe that people had died, even though I knew they had. I was probably in shock, as was most of the city.

"I remember going into Bradford on the Sunday morning to have a meeting at (vice chairman) Jack Tordoff's offices. There was me, Jack and Stafford (Heginbotham, then-City chairman) in the room and although we talked, I don't think one word sunk in.

"Our emotions were all over the place. The biggest natural disaster in British football had happened at our ground. It was total shock.

"That feeling continued for quite some time and I firmly believe it was the fans who pulled the club through.

"In many ways, Bradford is the forgotten disaster. Maybe if it had happened to a bigger club, things may have been different but I have to say the Bradford people deserve tremendous credit for how they coped. They were magnificent and reacted with a lot of dignity."

Compared to Hillsborough and Heysel, Bradford has possibly become the forgotten tragedy of the Eighties in terms of the national psyche. For Cherry, however, May 11, 1985, will forever be enshrined in his mind with that gallon bottle of Bell's having long since become the symbol of a truly horrific day.

"I stayed at Valley Parade until about 8pm that night," he recalls. "And I will never forget just what horrors the police and firemen went through.

"They saw sights that no man should ever have to see and I could see the effect it had on them. I had won the Manager of the Year award and Bell's had presented me with the whisky before the match.

"The fire lads would come in during the evening and just take a huge gulp before going back to their duties.

"It was the only way of steadying themselves and deal with the horror they were witnessing.

"The image of these lads taking huge gulps of whisky is something that has always stayed with me."