SORROW DOES NOT SUFFICE:

It's not raining, Madrid is crying (JEREMY WATSON, 3/14/04, Scotland on Sunday)

AFTER the mass displays of collective anger came the shattering images of deeply personal grief.

Under a grey drizzle, the traumatised citizens of Madrid and its surrounding towns turned out in their thousands yesterday to bury their dead.

There was nine-year-old Marcos Gonzales, who should have been playing football in the park with his friends. Instead, he was bravely trying to wipe away the tears as he stood at the side of his father’s coffin.

There was the distraught but proud family of Federico Miguel Sierra who gathered in a rain-sodden cemetery to say goodbye to their army officer son.

They were scenes gruesomely replicated across the Spanish capital, awash with black mourning sashes, as the relatives of the first 60 of the 200 dead did what they had to do.

The first funeral masses took place in the sports pavilion of Alcala de Hanares, best-known up to now as the birthplace of Don Quixote writer Migel de Cervantes. Forever more it will be known as the place where three of the four ill-fated trains set off on Thursday.

Yesterday, the local sports hall should have been echoing to the sounds of youngsters taking part in their favourite sports. Instead, hundreds of mourners crammed into plastic seats for a mass for Felix Gonzales, an air force lieutenant, and Pilar Cabrejas.

It was left to Bishop Jesus Catala to put into words what many felt. "There is a divine justice that nobody can escape from," he said. "They will never escape from this justice." [...]

Grief blanketed the national pastime, football, last night. Players at Real Madrid’s home match against Real Zaragoza wore black armbands and observed a minute’s silence before kick-off, a mark of respect to be repeated at all Primera Liga games this weekend.

"It is not raining. Madrid is crying," said Jorge Mendez, a 20-year-old communications student.

Yesterday’s funerals were the first of many more that will take place over the next few days, spanning the generations and all walks of Spanish life. They will include an eight-month-old Polish baby, Patricia, found clinging to life on a station platform after being blown across the track from a bombed train. She died from serious blast injuries in the Baby Jesus Children’s Hospital despite frantic attempts to save her.

Her mother is still in hospital recovering from serious injuries. The whereabouts of her father are unknown. More than 41 people still remain to be accounted for after Thursday’s devastation.

An aunt told how Patricia’s parents had brought their baby to Spain for a better future. "They all felt very Spanish," she said.

We grieve along with them, but then what?

Posted by Orrin Judd at March 14, 2004 11:34 AM