On 29 July 2024, a mass stabbing targeting young girls occurred at the Hart Space, a dance studio in the Meols Cop area of Southport, Merseyside, United Kingdom. This attack took the lives of three children and devastated the lives of a whole community.
Members of RTBI 1199 Southport Hesketh bound together to support their community and raise funds for the families most directly impacted.
This effort was recognised at the Community Service Project of the year 2024ā2025 for the RTI CEE Region, and the Community Service Award of the Year 2024ā2025 by RTBI. Below is a personal account of Marc Foreman, a member of RTBI 1199 Southport Hesketh.
Celebrating a Town in Mourning and a Community unwilling to give up
The date is Monday July the 29th 2024. The weather is beautiful. The kids are off school, so my mum has come up to visit us, to spend some quality time with them in the summer break. Sheās already been up here for 3 nights and has taken the kids out to Preston for the day. Itās only 16 miles away, so she is comfortable with driving my wifeās car today.
Iām currently working from home in my conservatory. My door is open, the windows are open. I can hear the birds and the occasional chatter from neighbours to the rear of my house. Itās quiet. Peaceful, serene.
The time turns to 11āish and my wife, who also works from home comes over to ask what Iām having for lunch. We start hearing sirens. Lots of sirens. We donāt think anything more of it as now and again we do hear sirens. I then start hearing a helicopter overheadā¦.then another one in the distance.
I carry on my work and my neighbour calls me over the fence saying that thereās been an incident in town and someone has been stabbed, which would explain the sirens and helicopter etc.
About 5 minutes later, more sirens and my neighbour calls across again saying the stabbings involve kids and itās near or located at her place of work. Hart Space on Hart Street. Whilst we stand on each side of the fence, her tears well-up and I call my wife down from her office.
Pings on my phone from Sky or BBC news states that there has been an incident in Southport. My neighbour then advises us its at a Taylor Swift themed workshop at the Hart Space, but we donāt know more.
More sirens, more helicopters. I check online and the news channels are all covering it but not explaining anything.
My wife remembers that our friendsā kids were at a Taylor Swift themed party, so I call my mateā¦.after about 8 rings, he answers. I state āThank god you answered, I just wanted to make sure that you and the girls were okayā. He replies āIām okay, but Sarah* has been stabbed so Iām now rushing to the hospital, I donāt know too much more but will let you knowā. I say if thereās anything he needs at all let me know. Hang up. Then I break down in tears.
Sarah* is the same age as my daughter and they have grown up together. Started high school together. Weāve been to parties, holidays, and christenings. Everything.
I immediately call my mum and let her know to make sure she is aware of event, the traffic and not to tell the kids anything.
My wife is crying. My neighbour is crying. Iām confused and broken not knowing what to do or why something like this has happened in my town. In my community. Involving my friends.
Fast forward the next 5 hours. Itās a blur. Constantly checking the BBC news website and hearing messages and information from various friends. It didnāt look good. The website mentioned that 2 children have lost their lives and 1 in critical condition and several more have been stabbed.
My mum and kids come back home, and we cook some dinner and try and be as normal as we can. Knowing that something horrific has happened just less than a mile from where I live.
I start messaging the other guys from Table, suggesting we start a GoFundMe or Just Giving page for the families affected. This sort of thing is right up our street. We are all in agreement to do something. We didnāt know how many families had been affected, but we needed to help our community when it needs us most, so I open up my laptop and start the process of GoFundMe and producing some basic artwork and a bio on what and why we are doing it. I set it to live and go to bed.
We all go to bed, after watching the news channels for the remainder of the day. Sleep was broken and uncomfortable, knowing that my friends are at the hospital by their daughterās bed.
Tuesday, July the 30th 2024
The next morning, I wake up early (as usual) and go to the gym. I had asked the guys if there were any issues with my setting the GFM page up and nobody replies. I get angry and say āf*ck it, Iām doing itā. Then give it the go-ahead so itās live before 7am. Once I set it to go, everything at the gym was made more difficult, my heart isnāt in it. Iām in tears on the bench press. So, I give up and go back home. I hear back from my friend that Sarah* has been stabbed twice on her back and her arm slashed, and a collapsed lung from her injuries.
As I get dressed and log on to start work, I canāt really focus, so my manager calls me and tells me to log off and take the day off. Which I gratefully do. As my kids were then waking up and I hide a lot from them, but I may not be able to hide the fact that my daughterās friend is in critical condition in hospital.
Information gets released from the local news sites that the 3rd child had died and there will be a vigil at 6pm that evening at The Atkinson, which is next to the Town Hall. Which my wife and I agree on going to. We agree that the kids wonāt go as it will be too upsetting for them.
The names of the 3 children are released to the news sites. And one of them, Alice, is in my sonās class. She is also best friends with Sarahās sister, who was also at the event. This breaks my wife in bits. As we have also grown up with her parents at swimming lessons with my son. The rest of the day is a blur until we get to the vigil.
At the vigil, there are crowds of 100ās of people, maybe even thousands. We see some of colleagues, family friends and my Round Table chairman, who has agreed to lay some flowers at an already-growing memorial at the centre of the square.
The Vigil is full of emotion, tears and upset everywhere you look. There are a few shouts and swear words near the front, but we think nothing of it.
We leave the vigil and sit in the car at the front of the promenade watching the sun for a bit. Both with tears streaming down our faces. The reality hitting us hard. Our lives will never be the same again. Our community will never be the same again. Why has someone done this to children and why in our sleepy little town.
We muster up some courage and get back home to be greeted with our kids and my mum. All watching TVs in separate rooms. So, we get settled with a drink and start watching the newsā¦which is showing some of the vigil highlights.
Our phones ping. Our friends are sending us messages and video clips and links to TikTok of a riot happening in Southport. We all look at each other confused. Just less than 2 hours prior the local community was in tears, and now thereās over one hundred people smashing up the streets and attacking the local mosque. Which is less than a mile away from our house and a few streets from Hart Street.
We see smoke in the distance. And we see a live TikTok showing that the smoke is coming from a Riot Van that has been set on fire.
Knowing that a full-scale riot is less than a mile away from us is scary. Not as scary as the local people that live there. But still scary, nonetheless. We stay awake as long as possible keeping check on TikTok and other social media channels on what is going on. But we all go to bed drained and even more confused on what has just happened.
Wednesday, July the 31st 2024
I wake up early again and pull myself up to go to the gym. And wonder what the aftermath would look like. I didnāt remember where the locations were, but when driving to the gym I have to drive towards the Mosque and seeing all of the streets all closed off and seeing the aftermath and destruction was overwhelming. I pulled over to say hello to a friend of a friend who was clearing the street. Knowing that he didnāt live close by I asked what was he doing, and he stated āYouāve got to do what you can for your community Carcā (Carc is my nickname, it has been ever since I joined Table as itās Marc with a C and someone from Starbucks spelt my name wrong on a cup, so itās stuck ā it could be worse.)
Those 11 words really hit a chord with me. As it was just after 6am, the smell of burnt plastic and fire was everywhere. I immediately left to go home and retrieve a shovel and brush and get back as quick as possible.
When I arrive back to the location, there were others arriving too. The time was just gone 6:30am. The weather was warm, and it was very bright, it was going to be another hot day. It all didnāt feel real.
I start clearing debris using my brush down the street and continue to do so in to larger piles in the street. Which was then being tipped in to vehicles and trucks for removing.
I start noticing the press everywhere. Asking for reports on what happened. I immediately feel sickened and angry that the press are all here.
The more I start to brush and clear the easier it becomes. This was the workout my body and mind needed. I was physically doing something to help. To be there for my local community. The families directly affected by the events of the previous evening.
A lady walks past me walking her dog. She is crying, physically shaken up by what she is seeing. Unable to comprehend the events of the past two days. This image is a reflection of so many people of Southport. Pure disbelief.
I start to finish up on the street as there must be over 200 people all helping shovel and clean and rebuild walls and peel the melted plastic from the streets and roads where the bins used to reside.
As I start to walk back towards my car, one of the press journalists asked my feelings of the events and I turn into automatic āWork-Marcā with providing a view of what happened and tapping the GFM page to help the families. I realise when Iām talking, I should be doing more of this to helpā¦ So I then provide interviews and comments to 3 newspapers and 4 different tv channels, all putting a positive spin on the GFM page to help those affected and injured by the events of Monday.
I go home and once at home Iām full of positivity, knowing that Iāve actively helped and cleaned the streets. It felt good. I needed more of this. More to help the people affected by what has happened.
The Alder Hey Visit
At the weekend we were lucky enough to visit Sarah* and some of the other girls that had been injured (some serious). To see my friends and their kids there all happy to see me, my wife and kids was intense. I hugged my friend, we both shared a tear, adding āyou alright mateā and him replying ānot bad, you?ā, knowing both well that they had gone through hell on earth over the last week, but putting a brave face on for everyone. Almost still running on adrenaline from what had happened.
I automatically became āFun Marcā to make Sarah and her sister laugh and increase the positivity and happiness surrounding her as much as possible. I even agreed to pay for her Shein order that she had on her phone. I didnāt know it was Ā£80 at the time, but I put my card details in and just accepted it as Money has no meaning compared to her life and what she has gone through. I also agree to pay for an order for her sister too. She was busy playing with my son and both eating Pringles at the time.
We convince the nursing staff that we can break Sarah* out and go to the pub opposite the hospital for a pint and get some fresh air. Which I think we all needed. This in itself was cathartic and we all settled in to drinks and crisps and tried to remain as normal as possible knowing that it has been on the television every day for the past week and there would be a tsunami of press and media activity if their names got out to the wider audience.
The GoFundMe Page
Over the next few months, we helped raise over Ā£80k for the families affected by what happened. I became the face of the Southport Hesketh Round Table. Not by choice, just to help anyone donating or getting in contact with us for media enquiries. Something that Iām not really bothered with after years of working in Marketing and PR most of my adult life and being the Community and charity officer ā which is always in front of the camera for Pudsey/Santa float nights etc. However, normally on those dates themselves Iām wearing a 6āfoot teddy outfit or in a red suit and beard.
I did everything I possibly could to help my friend and his family be happy and positive. Texting him every day and being there for the girls whenever needed. I focused on them getting better and try and console them until the lead-up to the court case.
What helped me deal with everything was the distributing of the funds to the families affected. I worked with their Family Liaison Officers to get all of the contact details and bank accounts to distribute evenly. And every month Iād send a short message to the families. A quick update, a voice, a face of the Round Table that would bring a smile and be there for them. The replies from the families would melt me, knowing that we were doing good and providing the well needed financial support to them. Still, I would be in work-Marc-Mode where I would brush off any recognition and focus on raising more funds for them. This I know now is a coping mechanism. One that it has taken me 2 counselling sessions to release and understand.
Over these months we would have Business Meetings, GFM meetings and when the recognition was mentioned I would get angrier and angrier in my responses. Until at our AGM in April, I made it very clear and quite uncomfortable that I didnāt want any of it. I realised that I had a problem and was hiding it away. It probably didnāt help that my father had been struggling with cancer over the last few months and currently in hospital removing two large tumours in his liver.
GB News: The day of the Trial and verdict
The court case ā It was over really before it began and through doing so, the tv, newspapers and media all contacted us for feedback and quotes. I pulled my big-boy pants on and answered every call. Every meeting. Every interview. All with the focus on respectively helping the families and being the face of our charity. It again, took itās toll on me. I took too much on and didnāt get chance to reflect or grieve myself. I was getting angry outside of this. I was taking this anger and frustration out on my family and my wifeās family. I said āyesā to one final interview. Much to my wifeās annoyance. This interview was with GB News. Iād personally never watched it before but seen a few screengrabs of the show/channel.
What started with a short interview focused on the events of the day and me pushing the GFM page was the start of things to come. The interviewer pushed the GFM page on live television. Within 30 seconds it went up by Ā£10k. Then by the end of the interview it was followed by more donations. I didnāt believe what was happening. I contained myself as best I could, overwhelmed with the generosity and support the UK and further afield was pouring in.
After my brief 10-minute interview, kind words and messages came through from everywhere. Facebook messages from old work colleagues, friends from afar. People that I havenāt spoken to for over 10 years. All offering words of support and gratitude.
Today was also the trial verdict. So, there was a more pressing issue for me. To help support my friends and their girls. And when we found out the verdict we immediately went to their home with a bottle and few beers to celebrate the end of that chapter. It was also a Round Table business meeting in the evening, of which my friend agreed to come to show thanks to everyone. It was quite an emotional evening. But one that touched us all.
The next day, the local news sites and press had got hold of the interview from the day prior and it was getting traction. To the point I checked the GFM page, and it had doubled in donations to Ā£160k!
Tapping out and unlocking emotions
Fast forward a few months of more media interviews and other activities. We were contacted by our very good friend, Andrew Brown from Stand Up For Southport. He mentioned that we have been nominated and a finalist for the āPride of Seftonā Awards. This gradually broke me inside. The thought of being recognised seemed wrong. As much as Iād normally love to be recognised for the work that we do as the Round Table. It just felt wrong. The closer the event got, the angrier, frustrated and annoyed I got. I was at breaking point. Snapping at every piece of recognition or overly opinionated on activities that can help and assist good causes.
I was contacted by a local Beavers group that helped raise over Ā£5k on producing a badge that was distributed to the scouting world. I agreed to represent the Table and have a photo with their group and the cheque. I was not looking forward to this. I had become a shell of my normal self recently with the stored-up stress buckets overflowing. My father was currently in hospital with tubes in him and the news that the cancer had spread to his lungs. Our kitchen tap was leaking so I decided I can buy a replacement trap/waste.
I went to the local plumbing merchants and showed them the piece of tube that was leaking, and they found a replacement. When I asked how easy it was to replace the plumber standing at the counter replied, āitās a piece of cake mateā. The plumber then showed me a video and also what tools to use. It did look easy. A piece of cake.
Cue to me being at home with the replacement trap and waste for the kitchen sink. I start removing the relevant old tubes and start replacing them with the new ones. One of the brackets didnāt fit properly. How could it not fit properly?! How?! I was assured it would be a piece of cake!
This is pretty much when my world sank. I collapsed on the floor tears rolling down my face. Unable to work out why I was upset. Why I had collapsed on the floor and not able to deal with the situation. My wife came back and told me to get up. The tap can be fixed tomorrow by our neighbourās dad (who is a bit of a handyman). It was not enough. And to top it off I had 10 minutes left to get up and ready for the Beavers cheque presentation. So, I left the house a mess and collected myself to represent the Round Table for a photo recognising the great work that they have done to raise some well needed funds for the families.
The Cheque
When I pulled up to the Beavers hut, like many it was attached to a church or community centre. I still had teary eyes, so again, I put on my big-boy-pants, told myself to get a grip and went straight in to āMarc-work-modeā. Representing Table, explaining to the Beavers, the leaders and several cubs what we do, what we stand for and where the money is going towards. I felt like a vessel. Someone that knows what to say and how to say it, but vacant inside. Empty from the inner issues going on from the lead up to this day and also the fear of the Awards ceremony the next evening.
Outside when saying thank you to the Beaver Leader we both shared a tear over the events and how it has affected everyone of Southport. This is when a lady came over with a child and said āHello, you wonāt recognise me or know me but Iām April*, one of the parents and this is Jenny* who was at the event in July, and we have spoken a few times on emailā. I didnāt know what to say. I wanted to go straight in to āwork-mode-Marcā, but she deserved more. I started tearing up. She expressed her thanks and asked, āAre you a hugger?ā. I didnāt get chance to reply as both her and her daughter gave me such a strong hug with her whispering over and over again āThank you, itās meant so much to us as a familyā. I shrugged and said itās the least I could have done. She hugged me one more time with her daughter and left. I got back into my car, tears rolling down. I thought ā stay strong, donāt let anyone seeā. I drove back home and wiped away any tears or blurry eyes and tried to hide from my family to recover from everything. Stress-bucket lid heaving at the seams and spilling out. I go to bed so as not to have to talk to anyone.
Friday 25th April 2025 ā The Pride of Sefton Awards
The day had arrived. Iād been a nervous and emotional wreck behind closed doors for the last few weeks, and the time had come to put on a brave face and just get on with it. Who knows, we may not even win the award (Sefton Charity Champion). It was a black-tie event and there would be lots of local people there, some of which I knew which helped me. Luckily, I had Jordan Shandley (current SHRT1199 Chairman), and Dan Hubbard (current honorary like myself) to help me get my head together and help me if the emotions got too much or prop me up if Iād had too much to drink (even if thatās possible!).
I knew I had to accept the Bravery Award for Sarah*, as she was in London preparing for the London Mini-Marathon. Luckily her grandparents were there so I gave them the opportunity to be the limelight as deep down it felt better knowing that they would appreciate the action and also I really didnāt want to stand up in front of everyone and accept it as it new there would be floods of emotion and tears. I also knew that Sarah* had produced a quick video to be shown on the large screens in the venue to thank everyone and a special mention to me which literally hit me right in the feels. So, tears running again and everyone was looking over at me. I wanted to run off but put on a fake smile and nodded to a few looking over at me.
The evening was as emotional as I could ever expect, with so many inspiring people there that had done so many great things all over the county. We didnāt win the overall award, but it didnāt matter. The evening was an inspiration to be surrounded by so many like-minded people that had supported the town, put a face of bravery on to the outside world and ensured that they were true advocates to the local community surrounding them.
The Present
Iāve recently been having counselling to deal with these bursts of emotions and the post-traumatic stress that I had locked away and not dealt with at the time. This mixed with emotions of my father battling cancer, I have kept a lid over so many things I should be dealing with at the time. As guys we donāt deal with stress or feelings very well and mostly find it difficult to talk about these things.
The Future
Well, Iāve had to try and take a step back from some of the GFM page and Table activities to try and deal with my own stored issues. Reflect on what is happening around me and not box it off and try and forget about it all. Over the countless years of helping and being there for others I now need to ensure that I help myself. Itās one journey that I never expected nor thought Iād ever need, but week by week, counselling session by counselling session, Iām gradually able to think and talk more about these inner feelings that had been stored away in the Do Not Disturb boxes inside.
My Round Table Family have been there to listen and help me get through these times and support me in this and I canāt thank them enough.
The final words of Wisdomā¦Itās okay to talk. Itās okay to not be okay. And beyond everything else, we all need help every now and again. Never feel afraid to ask for it.
Marc
(AKA Carc / Dancing Santa / The Junk Food Jedi)
Southport Hesketh Round Table
(Chairman 2022ā2023, Pudsey Bear 2016ā2025)