Running for their lives, a petrified little boy screamed at his father: “Daddy help me… Daddy, what was that?”
He cried the words after gunshots erupted inside the Regency Hotel in Dublin – and the heartbreaking moment was caught on camera.
The video, recorded by my colleague who had been filming a boxing weigh-in, has been watched on YouTube more than three million times.
And as the child begged for everything to be okay, I was hurrying in the opposite direction, directly into the path of gunmen. Moments later, David Byrne, a Kinahan cartel member, was assassinated. His nephew, who is not involved in organised crime, is now expecting a child with Steven Gerrard’s daughter.
The real target, gang boss Daniel Kinahan, who I spotted on my arrival, managed to escape.
The BBC has now launched a documentary – Kinahan: The True Story of Ireland’s Mafia – and below I recall my own experiences from that horrific afternoon that sparked all-out war on the streets of Dublin and led to 18 murders.
Regency Hotel Murder
Episode one of the BBC show focuses on the murder of Byrne at the Regency Hotel (later renamed the Bonnington) in February 2016.
I was 21 at the time and, when I wasn’t studying journalism at university, I was travelling across Ireland covering combat sports for a site called Fightstore Media.
The day before the weigh-in, I attended the MGM (later changed to MTK before eventually ceasing operations) boxing press conference.
My job was to speak to the fighters ahead of their bouts – but the real fun took place on the weekends when the action unfolded in the ring. But on this occasion, the violence happened much sooner than anticipated, and it was much more deadly.
Arriving at the Regency, I sat myself down at a table, knowing my colleagues were still a few minutes away.
What caught my eye straight away was Daniel Kinahan, the co-founder of MGM, who was standing by the bar chatting to other well known faces in the Irish boxing scene. His controversial involvement in boxing management was no secret, but his links to organised crime had been rumoured for years. Seeing him so relaxed, laughing away with friends, was a strangely unsettling feeling.
Eventually, my two colleagues arrived, and we took our seats in the main function room, where the weigh-in was to take place.
Posting a picture on our Facebook page, I wrote: “MGM weigh-ins. Great weekend ahead. Stay posted.”
None of us could have predicted the horror that unfolded minutes later…
Trying to make the trip worth my while, I asked one of the fighters, Dubliner Stephen Ormond, for a quick interview after he made weight.
The room was loud, an Arctic Monkeys tune was playing if I remember rightly, and I suggested going into the corridor outside that led to the hotel entrance, which was just about to become a murder scene.
Hitting record on my device, we began talking about his fight, and all was going fine until his trainer, Paschal Collins, shouted across at us. I can’t recall his exact words, but he told him in no uncertain terms to end the interview right away. Seconds later, he again warned him to make a move.
Apologising, a confused looking Stephen hurried away, and I was left to hit stop on my recorder, feeling like the brief interview was a waste of time.
About to make my way back inside, the door to the function room swung open, and a woman, who I recognised as of the MGM organisers, screamed at me to run. I can still recall the fear in her voice, and the frantic look in her eyes as she said it.
Turning right, towards the hotel entrance, multiple gunmen armed with what looked like AK-47s and dressed in tactical SWAT gear appeared. Following others, I ran right by them without a second to think, before gunshots blasted out, leaving Byrne slumped in his own blood by the lobby desk. Thankfully, I didn’t look back.
Instead, seeing Paschal hop over a wall opposite the hotel, I did the same, and crouched in a stranger’s garden, my thoughts completely scrambled, wondering what had just happened.
I remember shaking, trying to remain as still as possible, before eventually making my way back once things had calmed down.
My initial feeling was a possible terror attack, and I had assumed we were all in danger, especially given the sudden presence of the SWAT team. Was there a bomb threat in the building? Who were they firing at? But I soon learned the gunmen were not law enforcement, and they came in disguise to carry out a brazen gangland murder.
We drove back to our gym, all of us shaken, and the story was soon all over the news. The aftermath has long been reported on, including how the hit led to a deadly feud between the Hutch gang and the Kinahan mob, which claimed 18 lives in total.
That night, I walked across the city, and made my way to Busáras. The world around me carried on as normal. But taking my seat on the bus to make my way home after the scariest day of my life, I knew it would be something I would never forget. And nine years on, that’s certainly still the case.