For Ray and Ann Stewart, the year 1974 will be forever etched in their memory. For one, it was the year the pair tied the knot - a joyous occasion.

But it was also the year the city they call home changed forever. "On the night of the bombings we were in our flat in Shirley and watched the news with horror," the pair told BirminghamLive.

"We immediately ran downstairs to the phone box opposite to call our parents to let them know we were safe. The next night there was to be a one-man performance at the Alexandra Theatre by the brilliant Spike Milligan.

"We debated, like many others, whether we should go out that Friday night. We did. We thought well if we are to die, we will be together and we wanted to show the murderers that we were not afraid.

"The theatre was understandably less than full, but Spike gave an amazing performance but extremely sensitive. He was due to read a poem about a bird that died and stopped almost as soon as he began in respect of the events of the day before.

"As you can tell, 50 years on those events are etched in our minds and those who died are never forgotten."

Jenny Hodson was at The Birmingham Hippodrome on the evening of November 21, 1974. A member of the St John Ambulance Brigade, she was on duty with her friend Natalie Finney at the production of Swan Lake.

Jenny recalls suddenly being told to leave the theatre. "Everyone complied, but nobody knew what was happening," she said.

"We came out into Hurst Street and walked up to Smallbrook Queensway. I needed to go up to Victoria Square to catch my bus home, but many roads were closed, making it impossible to get to where we wanted to be.

"I remember ending up in Holloway Head, still having no idea what was going on. Many people were wandering around, also not knowing what had happened, but it felt that it must be something really bad.

"Maybe we thought there might have been a bomb threat, as at that time it was not unusual, but we could never have imagined the horrors that were unfolding less than half a mile from where we had been."

Jenny and her friend were ushered away from the city centre. She remembers turning on the radio as soon as she got home. "I was horrified to hear the awful reports coming through on BRMB," she added.

"The Tavern in the Town was a pub I did use from time to time with friends. One of my group of friends was celebrating his birthday that day and we could so easily have been in that pub on that night.

"The next day after the pub bombings, we all went to work as normal. the atmosphere in the office was tense. We were all numb and shocked."

Chris Cunningham's pub bombings story begins on the 19th October 1974, the day he met a Danish girl on the ramp near New Street Station. Her name was Inge, and he fell madly in love with her.

After going out for the next few weeks, Inge dumped Chris - leading Chris to head in to town on November 21 to desperately try to win her back by convincing her friends to go out with him again. "I drove into town and as I joined the main dual carriageway in sight of the Rotunda, the traffic ground to a halt," he recalls.

"There was absolute pandemonium in the right hand lane as fire engines, ambulances, police cars, all with sirens blaring, and a seemingly endless stream of black cabs, hurtled past. My immediate thought was that there must have been some terrible accident somewhere, not having an inkling that it could have been a barbaric attack against young, innocent people out enjoying a drink after work."

As the traffic inched forward, Chris was directed to Digbeth and carried on to Bordesley Green to visit his friend Rob Overs, who he had planned to see after visiting Inge's friends. "I got to Rob's shortly before 9pm," Chris said.

"We decided to watch Monty Python before going round to the Custard House for a drink still unaware of the tragedy unfolding a few miles away in town. About 9.15pm the phone rang and it was Robs aunt calling to check if Rob was okay... It was at that point I realised what had been going on in town.

"My stomach churned and my world and my Birmingham were never going to be the same again."

He continued: "The people of Birmingham then, very much like today, just got on with their lives and rubbed along together in that friendly, warm hearted way that we often take for granted. Mercifully, it was those Brummie characteristics that enabled us to recover and for any wounds between the communities to heal.

"As for Inge, alas I never did see her again and I assume she went back to Denmark to continue her life over there. I've often wondered over the years what happened to her and what effect the pub bombings had on her. My broken heart eventually mended and I went on to meet the girl that I eventually married, Janet. And Im pleased to say we have been happily married for 37 years."

As November 1974 drew to a close, Anne Wright was soon to complete her first term as a newly-qualified teacher at Byng Kenrick Central School, now Tile Cross Academy. She was 'horrified' watching the scenes unfold on TV - but she did not yet realise her personal connection to the tragedy.

"We soon became aware that one of our Sixth Formers, Jane Davis, was missing and that there were fears for her safety," she recalls. "The school had many Irish pupils, and I remember one saying to me,Miss, will my Dad be alright? We did our best to reassure them and I thought of the Irish family with whom I had lodged when an undergraduate.

"I think it was about lunchtime when the Head came into the staff room with the terrible news of Janes death.
The shock was palpable - I felt as if I had been physically hit.

"I did not teach Jane, so I didnt know her but over the years through all the trials and appeals that moment always comes to mind."