Skip to main content

Paris in 1995

On July 25, 1995 I took the metro from my dormitory in Paris to the station Saint Michel, which was a stones throw from Notre Dame Cathedral. I was with a group of fellow students and we were to meet our professor for Le Bateau Mouche, which is a tour of Paris on a little boat.

Saint Michel is a busy station as it has two main trains that intersect there. RER B is the bottom line and above that crosses the RER C line. And then above RER C is the street.

We arrived at the station via RER B and looked for the exit our teacher had told us to use. A couple of the students saw a big map and began to study it, convinced that it would show them the way. I thought this was stupid and said so - after all, how hard could this be? Get out of the station, look for a river. Follow the river until you see the boats.

Our group split into two and we left our friends who were fruitlessly staring at the map. We ascended some stairs and were standing next to the RER C train when we felt an explosion. There was a total moment of silence as we all pondered, "What the hell was that?!" The impact didn't move my body, but it had caused my organs to vibrate in the creepiest way.

I decided to leave, with or without my peers. I headed towards an exit where there was a line of people who had the same idea. In my peripheral vision I saw someone running in a strange way. His arms were down at his side and he was swaying as he ran. I looked at him and saw that he was badly injured - his shirt was torn and burned and there appeared to be blood all over him.

I jumped the small fence keeping me in the station and ran out to the street.

It was a beautiful day. There were many people elegantly snacking in the cafes, ladies were walking their babies...it was almost as if I had dreamed it.

A stampede of people erupted from the station. Transfixed, I stood there. I have no idea why. I just couldn't leave. People with minor injuries were coming out and everyone looked as though they'd been in a fire.

After the initial thrust of people I saw a woman lying on the stairs. Thinking she had fallen, I ran down to help her. She had a bad cut diagonally across her throat and blood was coming out in squirts, just like the movies. I tried to talk to her but her eyes were like marbles, rolling around in her head. She began smacking herself in the ears...in hindsight I think that she was near the bomb and it might have deafened her, at least temporarily. I took her skirt and held it against her neck but she kept swatting at me.

I heard the sirens above so I ran to get her help. The medics shoved me out of the way and got to work. I still hadn't realized what had happened.

The explosion sounded exactly like a bomb had gone off. But that was too incredible to assume. But it was indeed a bomb, planted by Algerian terrorists. It had been on the train line we had been on. They had put it under a seat and many people sitting or standing there lost their legs. 8 people died.

The medics began pulling people out of the station. I think there were around 75 seriously injured. The beautiful cafes were turned into operating rooms as limbs were removed to save lives.

Our friend slowly walked up the stairs in a daze. Her face was completely white except for two bright red spots on her cheeks, as though she were blushing. There was soot all over her. Apparently she was still standing next to that map when the bomb went off. It sent her flying backwards into a wall where she hit her head. But her much more serious injury was mental; she saw people dying, people on fire, people who had lost their arms or legs in the explosion.

Helicopters filled the air. There must have been hundreds of them. The whole thing was so surreal...we just stood there with our mouths hanging open.

Then I heard one of the policemen say that there was another bomb that had not yet detonated and we needed to clear the area. I began blindly running down the street, having no idea where I could or should go.

We found out later that the terrorists had planted bombs on both RER B and C. But the one on C - the one that I was standing next to - was a dud. They had been designed to go off at the same time and I heard that they had hoped to rupture the wall of the station so that the river would flood it.

Thankfully they failed in the more catastrophic plan.

For a long time I felt like I'd never be the same again. I had nightmares and trouble eating; my doctor said it was post traumatic stress disorder. Now I rarely think about it. But for whatever reason I was thinking about it today and thought that I'd write about it.


Comments

Jormengrund said…
Amazing what the actions of one person or group can do, isn't it?

I still recall the "minor" skirmish that happened while I was in Dublin between the regulars and the IRA..

I still have nightmares about it..
Anonymous said…
I think that is the same station I've used to get to the Sainte Chappelle - which I think is one of the most spectacular chapels in the whole world...the columns are so narrow and the walls are nearly entirely stained glass windows.

I don't think so many people go to see that since it is within the perimeter walls of the ministry of justice.

Having been affected by a terrorist bomb, I'm not commnenting on that aspect other than to say it was well written.

Cheers
Bex said…
Jormengrund - You know, I forgot about those guys. Killing in the name of god. What a total load of crap.

David - I don't know that chapel. My favorite spot there was Musee d'Orsay. That in and of itself is a religious experience.

Sorry for your experience...it's a strange world.
Anonymous said…
Musee d'Orsay is an absolute treasure of excellent art for sure. I've always loved impressionism.
Anonymous said…
Bex: Not what I expected when I came here, but very nicely done...

...and way to bring a person down on a cold winter night. ;) But really, did enjoy the post, joking aside.
Beck said…
Well written Bex. Thanks for sharing. I appreciate this side of you as well as your hilarious and outrageous sides. Maybe they're all on the same side. Regardless, extremely interesting. Glad you're OK.
Anonymous said…
Wow. Thanks for sharing that story.
Bex said…
Me too, David. I'm not a huge museum person but I always find a way to stop at the Orsay...just being in the space makes me happy. For those who haven't been there, you should put it on your list. I'd take it over the Louvre 100 times over.

Thanks to the rest of you for swinging by and taking the time to read. Don't worry...I'll be up to my old tricks in no time.
Anonymous said…
And speaking of museums to put on the to-do list - The Calouste Gulbenkian Museum in Lisbon. A spectacular collection housed in a building constructed specifically for that collection.

Popular posts from this blog

Florida: The Good. The Bad. The Holy SHIT!!!

So you know...I live in Florida now. The good news is that my southern accent is stronger than ever - I think it was some sort of defense mechanism...of or for what, I have no idea. I definitely miss Atlanta and my friends, though, especially now. Spring in Atlanta is SO beautiful. But Florida is pretty nice, too. We go to the beach at least once a week and we all love having a pool in the backyard. Also, my husband makes me a Planter's Punch every night and I don't even feel guilty by knocking it back - we're on vacation, right?? A couple of weeks ago I was reading the news and saw this weird picture: In case your eyes can't make sense of it, I'll give you a hint. It's not a puppy. I'm guessing it's not an air freshener, either. It is, in fact, a Burmese Python that ruptured and now has a really big dead Alligator sticking out of it's stomach. Oh, and something ate the snakes head off. That's why there is no head there. National Geographic has

Oooohhh...I just LOVE when you wrap it around me... do it again, please?

I had heard that "crack" kills. I just never really believed it until I saw it with my own eyes. (Bless his heart.) About 3 years ago I was 6 months pregnant and had two daughters (aged 4 and 5). We were all traveling from Bellingham, WA to Atlanta, GA with a VERY brief layover in Dallas. We were booked on a major airline that should remain anonymous as they are a bunch of asshats (but they rhyme with "Mamerican Mairlines") and we had to leave for the airport at 3:30 AM in order to catch our 7AM flight. It was Suck City. By the time our car arrived in Seattle my husband and I were barely speaking to each other and the girls had marks on their faces and arms from the backseat smack-down they had while out of our reach. When I went to the counter to speak with the representative she informed me that even though our seats had been purchased many months ago and seat assignments had been given all of that had changed and we were no longer sitting together as a family. I

The Wild and Wonderful World of Animal Butts

Hello, Boys. How're they hangin'?? Several years ago my dad and I were hiking in California. It was a beautiful afternoon and we were on a mountain trail. We came upon some kind of farm that had a fence around it. Suddenly I saw it - a pig lying down with his "sac" squeezed out behind him. It looked as though someone had stuffed two basketballs under his skin. My first thought was, "Holy crap, pigs can get elephantitis??!" This was quickly followed by thought number two which was, "I would give anything to be sharing this experience with anyone but my father ." So I did what anyone could do in such a situation. I took a picture of the pig balls. I decided that I would put it on the cover of my Christmas cards that year and when the card was opened it would say, "Deck the halls...." I haven't done it yet but I will...yes, I will. You may be wondering why I brought this up. It has to do with baboons and Darwin. At the risk of dramatical