No matter what is said by the brain-dead few, true football fans will never forget what happened that day.
As an enthusastic 11 year old Newcastle United fan, I was stood in the kitchen at home listening on the radio to us losing to Arsenal - our 1st division life rapidly ebbing away, relegation by that point in the season, almost a formality.
What I remember clearly was the need for own local radio station to leave the live commentary and jump to Hillsborough for a news flash. Whatever was happening, it was clear straight away it was bad. Within the hour, they reported deaths - our match didn't seem important any more. Nothing did
I was a football fan who'd stood on the terraces many times. Some of my mates had been at White Hart Lane in 1987 when our fans had been crushed into a pen that was too small - anyone who dared escape would be carted down the nick. Perversely we knew if anything went wrong in a pen at a match, we'd be in serious trouble. But we trusted the authorities to look after us. How naive we all were.
I cannot think of what happened 20 years ago without a tear running down my face. Until 2 years ago, I had absolutely no connection either with the city of Liverpool or it's more successful club - but still the pain hurt, still I felt a mixture of sorrow, pain, guilt and anger. These weren't just Liverpool fans, they were football fans - and I was a football fan. It could have happened to any one of us.
My girlfriend is a red. She was due to be at Hillsborough that day, stood in the Leppings Lane end with her Dad. Had he been able to get time off work, she may not have been here today but their tickets were sold on and they listened with anguish to the news filtering through from Sheffield. The people they sold their tickets to mercifully did return. Cruelly in such a close-knit city it was almost inevitable however that they'd receive bad news as well as the good.
2 of her mates went to Hillsborough that day - only one returned, complete with a broken nose - the result of an over-zealous police officer trying to ensure he remained within the pen. Whilst the police on the front line took some initive and saved lives that day, the action of this one typified to me the overall attitude of those in charge of policing that day. Keen to thicken the teflon on their shoulders, it was easier to blame the defenceless fans - how fucking dare they.
The other friend was Steven Robinson who's name is sculpted into a piece of marble along with 95 others on Anfield Road.
Many of us take for granted the right to go to watch a football match, enjoy a safe and protective atmosphere and return home once the game is over. I never do - it took the deaths of 96 to ensure that safety and the bigger tragedy is that it did take that to do something. Effectively they died to ensure the rest of us were safe - how we wish that didn't have to be the case..
From a Newcastle fan, I speak for all true fellow 'Toons' when I type the words - Rest In Peace all 96 of you, you'll never walk alone.
To those of you still hurting, keep fighting. The truth will out, justice will prevail. We all know the truth, it just needs to be accepted by those culpable and those who dared to report such lies.
I shall make my trip to Anfield on 3rd May, I'll walk past the memorial and I'll think of that day once more. Hopefully I'll have just reason to return next season too.
All the best lads - the dignity shines through.