Southport Hesketh Round Table Celebrating a Town in Mourning and a Community unwilling to give up

Southport Hesketh Round Table, we’re recently the recipients of not one, but two community service awards at this years Round Table National AGM. They were awarded the RTBI Community Service award for 24-25, and Round Table International also recognised them by giving them the CEE Region Community Service award. 

Chairman Jordan Shandley was in attendance at the Cardiff Conference and accepted the awards on the Tables' behalf. We had the opportunity to catch up with Marc Foreman, recently retired Member of Southport Hesketh. He was kind enough to give us a personal insight into the tragic events that prompted him to start a GoFundMe page, which has recently reached over £180,000. Thank you, Marc, for this frank and honest appraisal of the events, the fundraiser, and the ongoing support you and Southport Hesketh RT have been giving your friends and community.

We have changed the names of the children to protect their identity, and this is also your tear jerk warning:

“The date is Monday, the 29th of July 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. She’s already been up here for 3 nights and has taken the kids out to Preston for the day. It’s only 16 miles away, so she is comfortable driving my wife’s car today.

I’m 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. It’s quiet. Peaceful, serene.

The time turns to 11’ish and my wife, who also works from home, comes over to ask what I’m having for lunch. We start hearing sirens. Lots of sirens. We don’t think anything more of it as every now and again we do hear sirens. I then start hearing a helicopter overhead….then another one in the distance.

I carry on my work, and my neighbour calls me over the fence, saying that there’s been an incident in town and someone has been stabbed, which would explain the sirens and helicopters.

About 5 minutes later, more sirens and my neighbour calls across again, saying the stabbings involve kids and it’s 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 state 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 don’t 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 friends’ kids were at a Taylor Swift themed party, so I call my mate….after about 8 rings, he answers. “Thank god you answered, I just wanted to make sure that you and the girls were okay”. He replies “I’m okay, but Sarah* has been stabbed, so I’m now rushing to the hospital. I don’t know too much more, but will let you know”. I say if there’s anything he needs at all, let me know. Hang up. Then I broke down in tears.

Sarah* is the same age as my daughter, they have grown up together, started high school together. We’ve been to parties, holidays, christenings. Everything.

I immediately call my mum and let her know to make sure she is aware of the event, the traffic, and not to tell the kids anything.

My wife is crying. My neighbour is crying. I’m 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 5 hours. It’s a blur. Constantly checking the BBC news website and hearing messages and information from various friends. It didn’t look good. The website mentioned that 2 children have lost their lives and 1 is in critical condition, with several more with stab wounds.

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 didn’t know how many families had been affected, but we needed to help our community when it needs us most, so I opened up my laptop and start the process of setting up the 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 all evening. Sleep was broken and uncomfortable, knowing that my friends are at the hospital by their daughter’s 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 replied. I get angry and say “f*ck it, I’m doing it”. Then give it the go ahead so it’s live before 7am. Once I set it to go, everything at the gym was made more difficult, my heart isn’t in it. I’m 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 can’t 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 daughter’s friend is in critical condition in hospital.

Information gets released from the local news sites that a 3rd child had died and there will be a vigil at 6pm that evening at The Atkinson, which is next to the Town Hall. My wife and I agree on going to. We agree that the kids won’t 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 son’s class. She is also best friends with Sarah’s sister, who was also at the event. This breaks my wife into 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 100’s of people, maybe even thousands. We see some of our 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 is 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 by our kids and my mum. All watching TVs in separate rooms. So, we get settled with a drink and start watching the news…which is showing some of the vigil highlights.

Our phones ping. Our friends are sending us messages, 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 there’s 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 for the people that live in that street, 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 over 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. On my way to the gym I had to drive towards the Mosque, seeing the streets all closed off and 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 didn’t live close by I asked what was he doing, and he stated “You’ve got to do what you can for your community Carc” (Carc is my nickname, it has been ever since I joined table as it’s Marc with a C and someone from Starbucks spelt my name wrong on a cup, so it’s stuck – 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 rushed back as quickly as possible.

When I arrived back, there were others rocking up 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 didn’t feel real. 

I start clearing debris using my brush down the street and continue to do so into 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 with 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.

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 on the events and I turn into automatic ‘Work-Marc’, providing a view of what happened and tapping the GFM page to help the families. I realise when I’m talking, I should be doing more of this to help… 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 there I start to feel some positivity, knowing that I’ve 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, my wife, the kids, and I were lucky enough to visit Sarah* and some of the other girls who had been injured (some seriously). To see my friends and their kids there, who were all happy to see us, was intense. I hugged my friend, we both shared a tear, adding “you alright mate” and him replying “not bad, you?”, knowing full 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 ‘Fun Marc’ 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 didn’t know it was £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, 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, the GoFundMe page attracted over £80k in donations. We wanted to raise this money for the families affected by what happened. I became the face of the Southport Hesketh Round Table, just to help anyone donating or getting in contact with us for media enquiries. Something that I’m not really bothered about after years of working in marketing and PR for most of my adult life, and being the Community and Charity officer of RT, for which I was always in front of the camera for Pudsey/Santa float nights. However, normally on those dates I’m wearing a 6-foot 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 tried and console them until the lead-up to the court case.

What helped me deal with everything was the distribution 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, I’d 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 much-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 the 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 didn’t want any of it. I realised that I had a problem and was hiding it away. It probably didn’t help that my father had been struggling with cancer over the last few months and was in hospital having two large tumours removed from his liver.

GB News: The day of the Trial and Verdict.

It was over really before it began. 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 helping the families and being the face of our charity. Again it took its toll on me. I took too much on and didn’t get a chance to reflect or give myself time to grieve. I was getting angry outside of this. I was taking this anger and frustration out on my family and my wife’s family. I said ‘yes’ to one final interview. Much to my wife’s annoyance. This interview was with GB News. I’d personally never watched it, I’d seen a few screengrabs of the show/channel before and that was all.

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 £10k. By the end of the interview, it had doubled. I couldn’t believe what was happening. I contained myself as best I could, overwhelmed with the generosity and support that 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 haven’t 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 a few beers to celebrate the end of that chapter. It was also a Round Table business meeting in the evening, for 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 gaining traction. To the point I checked the GFM page, and it had doubled from the previous day to £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 were a finalist for the ‘Pride of Sefton’ Awards. This gradually broke me inside. The thought of being recognised seemed wrong. As much as I’d 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 being overly opinionated on activities that can help and assist good causes.

I was contacted by a local Beavers group that helped raise over £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 the hospital with tubes in him, and the news that the cancer had spread to his lungs. Our kitchen tap was leaking, so I decided to go 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 a plumber standing at the counter replied, “It’s a piece of cake mate”. 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 didn’t 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 why was I 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 neighbour’s handyman dad.  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 and to recognise the great work they have done to raise some well needed funds for the families.

The Cheque

When I pulled up to the Beavers' hut, I still had teary eyes, so again, I put on my big-boy-pants, told myself to get a grip and went straight into ‘Marc-work-mode’. Representing Table, explaining to the Beavers, the leaders and several cubs what we do, what we stand for and what the money they had raised was going towards. I felt like a vessel. Someone who 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 ‘Hello, you won’t recognise me or know me, but I’m April*, one of the parents, and this is Jenny* who was at the event in July, and we have spoken a few times on email’. I didn’t know what to say. I wanted to go straight into ‘work-Marc-Mode’, but she deserved more. I started tearing up. She expressed her thanks and asked, “Are you a hugger?”. I didn’t get a chance to reply as both her and her daughter gave me such a strong hug with her whispering over and over again, “Thank you, it’s meant so much to us as a family”. I shrugged and said it’s 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, “Stay strong, don’t let anyone see”. 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 - The Pride of Sefton Awards

The day had arrived. I’d 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 whom I knew, which helped a little. Luckily, I had Jordan Shandley (current Chairman), and Dan Hubbard (an honorary like myself) to help me get my head together and help me if the emotions got too much or prop me up if I’d had too much to drink (even if that’s possible!).

I knew I had to accept the Bravery Award for Sarah*, as she was in London preparing for the London Mini-Marathon. Her grandparents were there, so I allowed them to take the limelight as deep down it felt better knowing that they would appreciate the action, and also I didn’t want to stand up in front of everyone and accept it as it knew 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 hit me right in the feels. So, tears were running again, and everyone was looking over at me. I wanted to run off, but put on a fake smile and nodded to those who were looking over at me.

The evening was as emotional as I could ever expect, with so many inspiring people there who had done so many great things all over the county. We didn’t win the overall award, but it didn’t 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

I’ve 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 on, like so many things I should be dealing with at the time. As guys, we don’t deal with stress or feelings very openly and mostly find it difficult to talk about these things.

The Future

Well, I’ve 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. It’s one journey that I never expected nor thought I’d ever need, but week by week, counselling session by counselling session, I’m 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 can’t thank them enough.

The final words of Wisdom…It’s okay to talk. It’s 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 2022-2023, Pudsey Bear 2016-2025)

The fundraising page is still active and accepting donations. The funds continue to support the 26 families affected by these tragic events. The funds have been used to create positive memories for the children affected as well as help with counselling and grief support. Should you wish to contribute, you can do so here: 

 https://www.gofundme.com/f/helping-the-southport-families-after-29th-july-2024-attack

Thank you again to Marc, Jordan, and the members of Southport Hesketh Round Table for this detailed insight into the initiative and the continued work you do for your community. Congratulations on the awards and well done for turning tragedy into positivity with your brilliant attitudes and actions.