December 25, 2007 marks 50 years since tragedy struck the quiet seaside village of Runaway Bay in St Ann, when a tanker carrying aviation fuel to the Sangster International Airport in St James crashed and overturned on the highway at about 10:00 am.

Although no one was injured in the crash, the inferno that later engulfed the site left 23 people dead, many of them children, and another 70 fighting for their lives in hospital.

Painful memories of the awful incident were revived last Friday when the community came together at a ceremony to remember the victims of the fire and to unveil a monument dedicated to their memory. Survivors, some of them bearing scars from burns received in the fire, described the horrific sights and sounds that are forever etched in their minds.

As gasoline poured out of the overturned tanker, a crowd soon gathered. Emerging from the wreckage uninjured, the tanker driver, Lascelles Williams, urged onlookers to move away from the area. But residents – young and old – ignored Williams and converged on the site with buckets, pans and bottles to collect the fuel.

Quick on the scene was a young constable, Joseph Pennant, who was filling in at the Runaway Bay Police Station on his day off while a senior officer was out on patrol. Powerless to keep the determined crowd away from the truck, Constable Pennant was in the process of documenting the accident when he saw a man take out a cigarette. He ordered the man to put it away immediately, and the man complied.

Meanwhile, Vincent Taylor, who operated a gas station a few metres from the site of the accident, had wasted no time in organising a team to dig a trench across the road and push up mounds of sand to divert the stream of fuel away from the gas station and towards the sea.

The minutes went by. A Gleaner delivery bus carrying several passengers stopped right beside the overturned tanker and its driver began to scoop up the valuable liquid and fill his vehicle’s gas tank. The tanker driver had, by this time, followed his own advice and retreated from the scene, while more and more residents were arriving, eager to get some of the fuel, oblivious to the impending danger.

George Mills, who had sent a young man to fetch a bucket from his home nearby, grew impatient waiting for his return and went off to find out what was delaying the fellow. Like the people who missed their train to work in Manhattan on the morning of September 11, 2001, the timing of Mills’ departure meant the difference between life and death for him, as he walked up the road away from the crash site.

Nearly half-an-hour had passed, and by this time Constable Pennant had finished his measurements and was about to head back to the station. As he turned away from the tanker, out of the corner of his eye he saw the same man he had reprimanded earlier take out a cigarette and raise his lighter. In a split second, flames roared from the man’s hand to the sky. And in that second, J D Pennant took off like lightning and ran for his life, passing the police station by a hundred metres or more in his haste to get away from the flames.

Worshippers coming out of the Christmas morning service at the Congregationalist Church (now the United Church) about half-a-mile away were wishing each other ‘Merry Christmas’ when they heard the deafening explosion, followed by the roar of the fire and the anguished screams of the victims.

Rushing down the road, they were met with unimaginable scenes of horror – their family members, friends and neighbours enveloped in flames, running, jumping, writhing on the ground and screaming in agony. For some it was already too late, their charred bodies lying unrecognisable in the blackened rubble.

Other victims ran to the police station bawling for help, where the quick-thinking Constable Pennant had soaked his blanket in water and was using it to wrap around their burning bodies to smother the flames, thereby saving many lives.

Eventually, outside help began to arrive. The North Eastern District of the St John Ambulance Brigade set up a first-aid station where volunteers worked tirelessly through the afternoon to treat the injured and send them off to the St Ann’s Bay Hospital. Doctors and nurses worked round the clock for days, which stretched to weeks, trying to save the lives of the many burn victims who filled the wards.

The young Frank Lawrence was one of the local people who helped to carry the injured and dying victims to the first-aid station. Now the Reverend Dr Frank Lawrence, JP, he spoke of the depression that persisted after the traumatic event, of attending funeral after funeral. So gruesome was the tragedy that many people in Runaway Bay reportedly could not eat meat for months afterwards. He urged those present to learn from this disaster and to educate their children about fire safety.

On January 8, 1959, Chief Minister Norman Washington Manley went to Runaway Bay to present Certificates of Merit and Cards for Meritorious Service to 44 individuals for “service distinguished by courage, determination, devotion and everything that merits one’s admiration”. Among those receiving certificates were Dr Lenworth Jacobs and Mrs Jacobs; members of the St John Ambulance Brigade, led by Kathleen Hetherington; Florence Burton, the postmistress (who still resides in Runaway Bay); and the hero of the day, Constable Pennant (who came from St Elizabeth to attend last Friday’s ceremony).

Commending the extraordinary response of the community, Manley had remarked that “the disaster brought out the fine qualities of the citizens of the area” (The Sunday Gleaner, January 11, 1959).

Those fine qualities were again in evidence at last Friday’s memorial ceremony, organised by Rev Dr Lawrence and Dr Bruce Auden, with contributions from several other individuals, organisations, churches, and businesses.

More than 65 people attended the ceremony, including member of parliament for North West St Ann, Othneil Lawrence, and Winston Lawrence, councillor for the area.

Lawrence praised the initiative and the community spirit of the Runaway Bay citizens. He closed the ceremony by inviting Lyn Murray, survivor of the 1957 fire, to light a beautifully decorated Christmas tree, which he said symbolised unity and healing for a community still grieving over the tragic events of that Christmas Day 50 years ago.