The nightclub blaze which cost 48 lives and left families fighting 43 years for answers

With two bars and a giant dancefloor, The Stardust nightclub was the place to be for any Dublin teenager in the early eighties. 

Located in Artane, in an area formerly known as Butterly Business Park, huge crowds would turn up dressed up to the nines, while under-age drinkers routinely sneaked in forthe Stardust for an evening of excitement.

But on Valentine’s Day 1981, it was a night of terror at the Stardust. A huge fire created ‘bedlam’ in the club as patrons desperately tried to escape the flames. Locked emergency exits and barred windows left many trapped, and 48 people perished in the blaze. Survivors were left to battle mental anguish and suicidal thoughts. 

Today, as a verdict of unlawful killing was returned by a jury of the Stardust Fire inquests, we look back at the story of the 1981 fire.

‘The ceiling was dripping’

A total of 841 people had gathered for a Valentine’s Day disco at the Stardust on February 14, 1981. Dancing away to music from DJ Colm O’Brien, they were unaware a fire had taken hold on the roof of the nightclub’s storeroom on the building’s first-floor. By 1:45 am, thick black smoke started to blanket the dancefloor.

The lights flickered and, seemingly out of nowhere, a fire erupted. In complete darkness, panic set in and a stampede ensued. 

Benny Murphy, who was 18 at the time, said the ceiling appeared to be ‘dripping’ on the people below. In his witness statement, he said: ‘I saw a girl burning, and no one could do anything for her as the exit door was on fire. There was pandemonium, people were all over the place.’

The Stardust had 280 seats covered in PVC-coated polyester fabric so, when sparks had fallen into the nightclub, the flames ripped through the building at an alarming rate. 

Disorientated by the darkness, one group of young people mistook the door for the men’s toilets as the way out and got trapped. When club-goers did manage to reach emergency exits, they were met with chains and padlocks on doors and metal grilles and steel plates on windows. 

Sandra Hyland, who was 15 at the time, lost her friend Paula Byrne in the tragedy. The devastated teen later told investigators: ‘The place was black with smoke. I heard people shouting: “They’re [the doors] locked.” Everyone then rushed toward the main entrance.

‘When I was outside the main entrance, I was going around looking for my friends. I could hear people banging and screaming from inside. People were up around the windows of the toilets trying to help.’

A woman outside the club, around 200 metres away, had called the fire brigade, who responded around 1:51AM. Meanwhile inside, a man named Peter O’Toole was on the phone to Gardaí about a theft. In a transcript from the call, his voice fades and is suddenly replaced by ‘screams in the background.’

As first responders arrived at the venue they were faced with bodies ‘piled up’ inside the Stardust. Fire crews tried to use hammers and hatchets to break through the barred windows for those trapped at emergency exits, as young men and women screamed ‘please let us out’ as searing flames grew closer.

Ambulances left the scene packed with up to 15 casualties. Such was the scale of the tragedy, local radio stations asked people in the vicinity with cars to come to the club and help transport the injured.

The city’s hospitals were soon overwhelmed by the influx of injured and dying, in particular the Mater, Jervis Street and Dr Steevens’ Hospitals. The night had cast a shadow on the Dublin community, one that would never be forgotten.

‘Survivors were afraid to go into a dance hall’

In total, 48 people died as a result of the fatal injuries caused by the fire. The victims ranged in age from 16 to 26. Meanwhile, the survivors were left with mental scars that would never disappear. The Stardust fire was linked to the attempted suicides of around 25 people in the years which followed the tragedy. 

In a report submitted to a Compensation Tribunal years later, the extent of survivors’ turmoil was laid bare.

It read: ‘Nearly all of the victims suffered, in greater or lesser degree, from psychological problems, which are apparently common in survivors of a disaster. One of these was a feeling of guilt at having survived the disaster, where others perished.

‘Very common was claustrophobia among people, who, before the fire, had been extroverted and full of fun. They were now afraid to go into a dance hall, a pub, or even a bus and, if they did, would be on edge and would want to sit nearest the door, so as to be able to run out in the event of a fire.

‘Many of the victims suffered from nightmares and vivid, horrible dreams. As a result, they were afraid to go to sleep at night and insisted on the light being left on in their bedrooms all night. Most of the victims had no family doctor and received no medical treatment of any kind. They could not sleep, became cranky and difficult. Many suffered from enuresis [inability to control urine].’

Others turned to heavy drinking and a small number took drugs to cope with the trauma, the report claimed.

‘We were left like lambs to the slaughter’

The cause of the fire was never truly determined.  Police toyed with the idea that arson could have been at play, although a lack of evidence later deemed this unprovable. Nevertheless, this initial finding meant no charges were brought against the Butterly family – who owned the venue. The nightclub operators pursued a claim for compensation as a result of the ‘arson’ and were later awarded £580,000.

A later theory suggested an electrical fault caused the fire, which could have been allowed to spread due to the proximity of dangerously flammable materials, including 45 five-gallon drums of cooking oil, to where the blaze began.

The families of the victims and survivors fought in the courts for compensation, accountability, and justice. Victim compensation at the time ranged with a total of £10.4 million paid to 823 individuals; five individuals received £100,000 or more, 24 received slightly more than £50,000 and the majority of individuals received between £5,000 and £10,000. Parents who lost a child in the disaster received a maximum of £7,500.

But many felt justice was never truly served. 

In 2018, Antoinette Keegan, whose sisters Mary, 19, and Martina, 16, were killed in the fire, took to the steps of Ireland’s Attorney General’s office, joined by her 82-year-old mother Christine, as part of the Justice for Stardust campaign.

‘In the aftermath of the fire we trusted the state,’ she had said.

‘We remain to this day, dismissed and fobbed off, we have been systematically abused for 37 years. We were left like lambs to the slaughter, but we never gave up, and we never will until we get truth and justice.’

‘All just because the fire exits were chained’

Today, only a small part of the Stardust nightclub remains. The front area of the building stands in Artane, but the majority has been demolished. A distance away, on the banks of the Santry River, lies the Stardust Memorial Park, which pays tributes to the victims. It was opened on 18 September 1993 by then Lord Mayor of Dublin, Tomas MacGiolla.

While the nightclub was reduced to rubble, the fight for justice grew bigger. Families said previously unheard witness testimonies and new evidence warranted a new inquest into what caused the tragedy.

About 48,000 signatures were collected by the Justice for Stardust campaign group, who travelled all over Ireland to publicise their case. They were often supported by families involved in the Bloody Sunday Justice Campaign and the Carrickmines fire.

Irish folk singer Christy Moore was among those who had supported the campaign. In July 1985, he had been found guilty of contempt of court after writing and releasing ‘They Never Came Home’, a song about the plight of the Stardust fire victims which seemingly took aim at the owners of the nightclub and the government.

 It contained the following lines:

‘In a matter of seconds confusion did reign.

The room was in darkness, fire exits were chained.’

and

‘Hundreds of children are injured and maimed,

and all just because the fire exits were chained’

In 2019, it was announced that fresh inquests would take place for the 48 victims of the Stardust fire, and proceedings began in 2023.

Gertrude Barrett, mother of 17-year-old Michael Barrett, was the first to address the 15 jury members as part of the new inquest. Her son was an apprentice plumber and worked in the nightclub on the night of the fire as an assistant DJ.

‘I will never get over losing Michael in such an appalling way. Never,’ Gertrude told the jury. 

‘I am forever haunted by the thoughts of his final moments, what were his last words, did he call out for help, how frightened was he, did he know he was going to die?

‘If I stood here for a month, it still wouldn’t be long enough to describe or share the true impact of the Stardust fire, the experience of the four days in Store Street and the morgue, the funeral arrangements, the aftermath, the trauma, the void in our home and our lives, not to mention the 40-year fight for justice also. I should not have to be standing here today.

‘Like a tornado, the Stardust fire ripped through the core of our beings, wreaking havoc and utter devastation in its wake, leaving nothing untouched, be it our home, our lives, our relationships, our education, our future, our outlook on life, in fact our everything. Nothing was ever the same again, never the same and changed forever as we knew it.’

Find out more about the Justice for Stardust campaign here.

Do you have a story you’d like to share? Get in touch by emailing Kirsten.Robertson@metro.co.uk 

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