Geraldine Mullan on devastating tragedy: 'A part of me was forever lost that night'

A Donegal woman has spoken of how she is ‘bearing the unbearable’ six years after losing her husband and two children in a horrific tragedy in Inishowen. Geraldine Mullan lost her husband John - who was gearing up for his 50th birthday the following month - and children Tómas (14) and Amelia (six) died when their car left the road and slid into Lough Foyle at Quigley’s Point on August 20, 2020. Ms Mullan, who was a front-seat passenger in the car being driven by her husband, managed to survive. A company, Whitemountain Quarries Ltd, pleaded guilty to two offences in relation to the incident during a sentencing hearing at Letterkenny Circuit Court and Judge Roderick Maguire will pass judgment next week in the case. Ms Mullan bravely took to the witness stand amid highly emotional scenes in courtroom number 1 at Letterkenny courthouse to outline the devastating impact the incident has had on her in a victim impact statement. Ms Mullan told how the family were out in Derry - just days before the children were due to return to school - where they engaged in some bowling and watched a film before having food and embarking on the journey home. She said the incident, which she described as “terrifying and horrific”, had a “devastating and lifelong impact” on her. An emotional Ms Mullan said she was speaking to “give a voice to my husband and my children as John, Tómas and Amelia lost their voices the night of our accident. I am speaking for all four of us as they are no longer here and their voices have been forever silenced as a consequence of this preventable RTA.” Ms Mullan told the stunned courtroom how she heard “screams of terror” - the last sounds she heard from her beloved husband and children - as she recalled how their car plunged into the Foyle, overturned and ended up on the seabed. After managing to get out of the vehicle. Ms Mullan said she “continuously screamed for John, Tómas and Amelia. Ms Mullan remembered attempting to cling onto the wheels but said the waves were so strong she was repeatedly pushed against a sewer pipe. She managed to wedge a foot under the axle of the car and kept screaming for help. As she screamed into the night sky, Ms Mullan estimated that around 20-25 cars went past. “At one stage, I thought that I wouldn’t be heard and I stopped screaming,” she said. As her husband and children were in the water for so long, Ms Mullan knew they were no longer alive. After a passing family raised the alarm, Ms Mullan remembered the heartbreaking scene that confronted her when she saw her son’s body in the water. At that point, she attempted to fight off a coastguard member who had jumped into the water. Having been recovered from the water, Ms Mullan was taken in a wheelchair by Sergeant Charlene Anderson to an area where the three bodies were landed out and a local priest, Fr Farren, administered the Last Rites. Emergency services lined up like a guard of honour as Ms Mullan was brought to her husband, son and daughter. “I kneeled down and kissed each of them,” she remembered. “I made the sign of the cross on each of their heads and kissed them once more.” The sounds and the imagery from the haunting night “have never left me”, she said. “It is difficult to put into words how I am expected to cope going from a family of four to a family of one,” she said. “My primary role was as a wife and a mother. I cherished my role.” She recalled how their house was “fulled with life, laughter, love and happiness” but her identity, sense of who she is and future plans were “taken so abruptly”. She spoke of all the plans and milestones that the incident has taken from her. “A part of me was forever lost that night and it is a loss I will carry with me forever,” Ms Mullan said. “Loneliness is a physical ache, and the Scots word 'tholing’, which means ‘bearing the unbearable’, is how I describe my life. “John was my rock, my soulmate and my best friend. He made me feel safe and while. I believed that we would grow old together. Everything we did, we did as a team. He was the person I turned to for everything.” At the time of the horrific crash, John was about to celebrate his 50th birthday. “Even now, almost six years later, some of his presents remain unopened in our house,” Ms Mullan said, adding that she feels an “overwhelming sense of sadness and loneliness. I miss everything about him. I miss hearing his voice. I miss the way we still felt like teenagers together. I miss the way he made my heart skip a beat.” Ms Mullan said there were no words to capture the true depth of her heartache. “It is found in a million small moments that I miss every single day,” she said. Ms Mullan described Tómas as the “light of my life”. “He was perfect in every way. For the first couple of years, it was him and I against the world. We formed an incredible mother-son bond. We were so close. He was my little travel companion, my little sidekick.” Battling back the tears, she remembered how he was interested in playing music on the fiddle, accordion and tin whistle. and participating in activities such as playing chess, judo and sea scouts. “His smile is missed in every moment,” she said. “I miss hearing his voice and is caught. I miss his giggles that would brighten every day. I miss his hugs so deeply.” She told how her son was “kind, loving and caring to all who knew him”. Poignantly, on the day of the collision, she said Tómas had “enthusiastically” spoken to her about his plans to study pharmacy. “He had so much ahead of him,” she said. “His whole life was full of promise. I was and always will be endlessly proud of him. I miss everything about him. “The love of my firstborn will remain with me forever, I am completely heartbroken without him.” Her daughter Amelia, she said, was “my beautiful little girl”, who was born in 2013 and was the apple of her daddy’s eye. Ms Mullan said: “She was bubbly, mischievous and always laughing. In so many ways, she was just like me. She loved fashion and expressing her style, and even at just six years old, she had so many interests. She enjoyed music and singing, played Gaelic, and she was both a girlie girl as well as a tomboy - she loved climbing and exploring the rocks just as much as playing with her dolls and teddy.” Ms Mullan and Amelia shared precious mother-and-daughter time on Sunday mornings. “I would give anything to feel one of her special ‘koala bear’ hugs again, as she used to call them,” she said. “I stand in her bedroom and see her dolls, teddies and dollhouse - frozen in time. “My heart aches with every breath I take for the loss of my daughter. She told me during Covid a few weeks before our accident that there were four corners in my heart: she was in one corner, Daddy was in another corner, Tomás was in another corner and I was in the other corner and that if I was ever missing them, I was to put my hand on my heart. “I have done as she told me, every day since our accident but I shouldn't have to.” Tears streamed down many cheeks in the courtroom s Ms Mullan told of how she valiant tried to save them. She said: “I couldn't save them and that will haunt me forever. Similarly not being able to save my beloved husband John will stay with me for the rest of my days. The silence in our home is overwhelming - both deafening and heartbreaking.” Ms Mullan told of the grief and trauma she endured, as well as the injuries and the constant flashbacks and nightmares that have blighted the six years since. The ongoing uncertainty surrounding the court case was an added burden. She said: “Not knowing when the court case would happen heightened my fears, anxiety and stress. “I understand there is a judicial process, but it is imperative to note that behind each case there is a life and family waiting for court dates has a ripple effect not just on myself - the victim - but our families, friends and the wider community.” Ms Mullan has returned to work part-time as a cancer nurse specialised and her reduced working time has had a financial impact while John’s business has also ceased operation. She drives past the scene of the tragedy twice a day when she is working and the hospital she works in was where she was brought to on the night. Although “indebted” to her work colleagues, Ms Mullan said each day is a “constant reminder that I am alone”. She has channeled energy into fundraising and community-based initiatives, but she said: “Coming home to an empty house, the deafening silence of the rooms that once were a bustle of activity, walking through our bedrooms, and seeing the empty beds are constant reminders of everything I have lost. “Again I don't have the words to adequately convey the impact on my daily life. How do I adequately sum up how losing the three most important people in my life has had such a devastating effect on me in every way possible. My heart has been broken into pieces; the pain and heartache is immeasurable.” Ms Mullan said the long-term effects were difficult to fully articulate. “To be widowed and childless at 45 years of age was not in our plan,” she said. “From now until I go to my grave, I expect I will still be suffering the consequences from our ancient.” Ms Mullan issued a heartfelt thanks to all those who have assisted her in the time since the incident. Judge Maguire will issue judgement on the case next week.