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Former residents (from left) Quah, Dr Benjamin George and Chan Keng Fook look at the site where their homes once stood.

LORRAINE TAN, like other former residents of Highland Towers, was looking forward to what would probably be the last ever gathering with former friends and neighbours at the site Saturday, before the property is handed over to the bank.

Sadly, Tan will not be able to experience the final farewell. She died on Nov 30, after battling cancer for almost a year.

Tan and her husband Quah Seng Chit owned a unit in Block One which collapsed on Dec 11, 1993.

Their six-week-old son Li-Jun and his Filipino nanny were among the 48 people who perished in the tragedy.

"We were at the hospital for a post-natal check-up when the block we lived in collapsed," said Quah (pix), general manager of an advertising company, when met at the site on Wednesday -- a week after his wife passed away.

"Calls to the nanny (to check on the baby) went unanswered.

"On our way home, we saw a string of Fire and Rescue Department and police vehicles heading towards Highland Towers and then it struck us something had happened," said Quah.

When news trickled down that a maid and a baby had been rescued, Tan and Quah thought they were theirs. But this was not to be. Li-Jun's and the maid's mangled bodies were found by rescuers several days later.

However, Quah said despite the tragedy, Highland Towers holds a lot of fond memories.

"This was where my wife and I began our married lives. There was a lot of joy. This was our first home after we got married; this was the place we brought our first son Li-Jun home to after he was born," he said, while looking around at the overgrown shrubbery and trees on the site of the collapsed block.

The dilapidated Blocks Two and Three have become haunts of drug addicts.

"In those days, Highland Towers was one of the larger apartments, nestled in a tranquil area with a terrific view of the forest on one side and the city skyline on the other," Quah said, adding that friends would often pop over to spend the day there.

"It was beautiful ... until that day. My wife and I wished we had perished too. For two years after that incident, both of us felt as if we merely existed.

"The incident changed our whole view of life ... I lost my faith in God. I asked God why he gave us a child and then took him away after only six weeks.

"There were many people who were around to help us through the tragedy, but we also saw humanity at its worst when looters took advantage of the situation to scavenge valuable items while families were grieving.

"The opportunist politicians who turned up and officials and authorities who rubbed salt in our wounds by their cold, selfish and uncaring attitudes ...

"We felt this way right up to the time when our second son Li-Jin was born on Christmas day in 1995."

The couple lived abroad for several years before returning last year when Tan was diagnosed with liver cancer.

"Eventually, we found God once again after meeting up with so many genuinely nice and friendly people abroad, and upon our return home," said Quah who, together with his wife and son, embraced Christianity early this year.

"There was so much support from church members during Lorraine's battle with cancer and during her time spent in and out of hospitals.

"I still have not gotten over my grief and am still coming to terms with her death. Lorraine was an amazing person and I love and will miss her very much," said Quah who will continue furnishing and renovating the new home in Sri Hartamas where they were supposed to move into next year.

"I know when I do move there I will be sad, but this was something we started together and it was important to her to complete it.

"Similarly, it was important for her to have a closure to what happened in Highland Towers.

"Even from her hospital bed she was so eager to wrap up the whole Highland Towers incident and was waiting to meet with old friends and bid a final goodbye to the property which will no longer be ours."

Sadly, she never got to say a proper farewell, he said.

Quah said in honour of his wife, the other residents and those who had perished in the tragedy, they will play My Heart Will Go On at the final memorial.

"It was a song important to Lorraine," he said.

"Just like the song suggests, we will always have the memories of Highland Towers -- be they good or bad, they are entrenched in our hearts as we attain some degree of closure and move on with the rest of our lives."

Part-closure of claims chapter

AFTER 11 YEARS of battling it out in court, finance company AmFinance Bhd agreed to a RM52 million out-of-court settlement with the residents of Highland Towers.

The finance company was sued by the residents in its capacity as the owner of the land next to the collapsed apartment block, for general, aggravated, exemplary and special damages.

This is just 70% of the claims, with the rest depending on the outcome of the Federal Court appeal filed by the Ampang Jaya Municipal Council -- which the residents are suing for negligence.

Under the agreement with AmFinance, a subsidiary of AMFB Holdings Bhd, residents have agreed to sign over the titles to their apartments, their rights to the common property and the right to sue the developer, Highland Properties, among others -- a move which, to many, marks a closure to the physical, financial and psychological trauma they underwent over the years.

It is understood the remaining blocks will be demolished soon.

Lorraine with son Li-Jin last Christmas.

REMEMBERING HIGHLAND TOWERS

A tribute and dedication to the people who matter -- by Lorraine Tan 

AGAINST THE SOUNDS of contemporary pop music, laughter and giggling, the scream of happy kids, a familiar face emerged among the crowd of weekend shoppers.

Very slowly and surely, as though in slow motion, we were drawn towards each other, our eyes locked.

Then face-to-face we stood there, and for a brief moment it did seem like everything else in the background had faded away, even the music had stopped ... it was as if everyone there was observing a moment of silence.

As if to give both of us a chance to exchange what was in our eyes; in our hearts; that we could not express ...

Although our greeting was brief, I could see it all in her eyes -- they were almost moist.

She wanted so much to ask "those" questions, to tell me what was going on in her heart, to share, to touch -- but like me, did not dare. In fact she almost extended her arms to hug, if not kiss, but quickly checked herself.

Five years have gone past. Five long years. She has aged. I guess she must be thinking the same of me. Is it any wonder why people from Highland Towers, particularly those from Block 1, seem to age faster than anyone else regardless of whether they suffered loss of lives or not?

This lady I met recently did not (how fortunate!) but she had come so close to death -- if not herself, it could have been her loved one(s). She knows and feels it too -- a pain beyond words, beyond anybody's imagination.

Even though we lived in the same block, we never really knew each other. Not until now. Even without really saying much. Yet we knew each other alright.

This feeling of incredible bonding comes alive every time I meet a former neighbour. I believe it is almost always mutual. Something that developed out of a very tragic incident.

I sensed that this lady had gathered a lot of guts to approach me first -- and for that I am most thankful.

Thankful also because she started me thinking about a lot of other people whom I didn't know personally and for whom I cannot access directly, but they came into my life at a time so battered that many things have been left unsaid.

So as she walked away, life carries on ... the music came back and people went on with their shopping.

Life did go on for many of us. Many have rebuilt their lives. New homes, new careers, new environment. Some have divorced. Some remarried or married. Some started to have families.

Others have become more religious while some have dropped religion altogether.

Some have become a recluse ... But thank God (God?) none has gone insane permanently.

December 11, 1993. It was a Saturday. And it was a very hot sunny day.

You could almost feel it again. You could almost hear the vivid cries of pain and hysteria. You could even smell it -- the imminence of death.

There wasn't hope to begin with.

My husband and I could have been dead if not for the fact that my gynaecologist, saw me one hour past the appointed time, at 1.40pm.

That, reportedly, was the time the building came crashing down.

Forty-eight lives were gone forever in that one day, among them my first newborn son and a wonderful Filipina nanny. All because of greed on one hand and irresponsibility on the other.

Sadly, some things have not changed: the Genting Highlands and Ipoh highway tragedies not so long ago and the recent Bukit Saujana incident in Penang are testimony to the perpetual greed and irresponsibility of developers and the authorities.

Will it ever change? Do these people ever feel remorseful?

Nevertheless, some things certainly remain unchanged for people from Highland Towers: pain, bitterness, anger, guilt, and continuous feelings of "if only I had ..." -- things we wish we had done or did not do on that fateful day.
For these people, such feelings had become a part of life -- year in and year out at varying degrees and they heighten as the year closes in December for yet another year of anniversary.

For me, life in the first two years after the tragedy was a mighty effort just to merely exist -- you develop a sense of temporariness and an almost "give-up" attitude.

You laughed with friends and you did up the house but it was always temporary; you smiled but your heart weighed a ton.

And when you tried to carry on with life, some things you do, see, hear or say seemed to trigger and compound those feelings.

It was not until Christmas day in 1995 when my second son was born that life took on a new meaning. I stopped pretending. I began to live again.

Yes, I have been really living over the past three years albeit with thoughts still linked to the tragic experience and the other victims ... even though I have not seen many of you over the years, please know that you will always have a place in my heart.

Believe it or not, I see you all the time -- sometimes in my dreams, sometimes when I'm awake -- I see your faces, your smiles when we used to greet each other "Hi" or "Good morning" and then I see the pain on them that I know so well ...

And for those of you who perhaps are not as fortunate as me to have found a new focus in life yet, take heart you will, sooner or later.

From the first day of the tragedy up until now I have had people, strangers included, who say "there's a reason for everything; something good will come out of this. .."

I haven't found the answers yet but certainly there's a stronger will to live.

Hopefully this is a start.

So what have I learnt after all these years? Well ... the single most important thing I have learnt -- for all its worth -- is about people.

You connect with people better and stronger. You look at people differently and beyond the facade.

I believe I had always been a people's person from a very young age -- being able to interact easily and with empathy -- but this time it is an entirely different "connection".

It is extremely powerful, compelling and enduring.

I believe I have found a new "faith" since I gave up religion after the tragedy. Friends. People. Even strangers ... or people I don't really know personally.

It's just so amazing how people had come forward to openly express what they felt deeply in their hearts.

Totally uninhibited. Absolutely real. Sometimes, quite unexpected.

Just a month ago, I met a lady at the American Charity Bazaar -- a total stranger who approached me for something related to business.

Then on our third and last meeting, just as I was leaving her after a business discussion, she hugged me and passed me a package. Looking into her eyes and seeing something, I kissed her on the cheek.

The hug felt different from the usual ones and straight away I knew what was inside the package.

My heart was beating very fast as I opened it. I controlled the tears as I read her beautifully written message.

She remembers even though it's been five years since.

There was also a book. I read that too. It became part of a large collection of books and messages I received over the years from friends as well as people I never knew.

Inevitably, my thoughts also go back to a special couple (previously very close friends of ours) who had through some strange circumstances disappeared from our lives two-and-half years ago.

My husband and I have not forgotten what you went through.

Never before had one been subjected to so much grief, pain and sufferings all at once so intense, so concentrated in one place within such a compressed time frame.

For more than 10 days and nights you were there for us, rain or shine.

We went through the highs and lows together -- high when we thought the rescuers heard the cries of a baby, low when we thought no one could really survive such a mammoth crash.

It would be no surprise if you had suffered psychological backlash as a result of such a cruel exposure.

Talking about "rain or shine", I remember too the residents of nearby Hillview Estate and how they opened up their "doors" to us, literally.

I remember seeking shelter from the rain in one of the houses and looking around at the beautifully manicured garden and pool, and seeing some people moving inside the house from the glass window, I was sure we were going to be chased out. We were not.

Later we realised that the surrounding houses also had their gates wide open whenever it rained. What a noble thing these people did!

There was also this fine Malay gentleman (he gave me his card, a general manager of a well-known bank, but I had lost it) who walked up to me purposefully and asked me to be strong.

He somehow knew I was on confinement and ten minutes later came back again with his wife.

They offered me bathroom facilities and confinement food. Under the circumstances, I did not take up the offer but I am forever grateful.

For some others, I never saw your faces as my eyes had become swollen ... but I remember your whispers of love and support as you walked and stopped by me.

There were also messages from groups of people in Penang and Singapore, of different churches and temples, with words of hope -- that the angels were holding up the rubble and the remaining of the collapsed building to save my baby; that someone saw the goddess of mercy holding my baby above the water inside.

They said they were praying very hard for me ... I wish I could thank these people personally.

So I had a huge amount of strength I never thought existed and if I really did, I attribute it to all these caring people. (And friends).

But strength I discovered is a funny thing -- sometimes you think you have it, sometimes not.

In my first year at work after the nightmare, I remember a male colleague once said to me: Lorraine, you are such a strong woman ... if it was me, I would be lying by the roadside, holding an empty bottle, drunk. And here you are, talking to me about advertising strategies!

Well ... wherever you are now, you might not know it then but your words jolted me and I did wonder for a while, what the hell was I doing in the office. I felt a lot of guilt. I quit.

I thought I should be out there holding an empty bottle, stoned. So where was the strength? Could I survive?

Just two years ago in the office, as I was looking through a videotape of children to seek out a talent for a McDonald's commercial, I spotted a familiar name. Marissa ... I stopped and looked again.

Ooh ... those eyes! That night I cried myself to sleep thinking about you. You would never remember me; the last time I held you, you were only eight months old -- you had grown up so much! Would I survive too I wondered?

The next time you look at people, look again.

Sometimes the most unexpected could happen. Sometimes the most aloof and indifferent people can surprise you.

I salute those brave people who, on recognising us, could walk up to us in public places such as restaurants and say "I'm sorry what had happened to you" and then walked away quickly and discreetly.

I sometimes wonder if I could ever do that. Please know that your efforts have not been in vain. It is no exaggeration to say you do count in our lives.

There is this doctor whom I had known barely a year then in 1993 and he still would not even give me a second glance, in fact as we discovered has a heart made of gold.

Yet another, was a gentleman from the Red Crescent.

I was walking pass one of your vans when I heard you mention my name over the radio during one of those ten nights, instructing your team to locate me to give me food and blanket.

It's such a shame I don't even know who you are.

All of you had helped build this strength in me. Because of you I now have faith. I have made many new friends. I have dreams again. I'm part of the society you belong. More importantly, because of you I survived!

To the other victims, you too can have all these. Maybe we shall meet again one day. And when we do, please forgive me if I cannot stop crying.

I'd continue to build on the strength where I left off.

Although I no longer have a specific religion, I would try to talk to HIM -- that someone up there -- and maybe one day I may wake up in the midst of heavy incense with some answers to my questions.

Maybe HE may forgive me for not being able to put my hands together to pray. Maybe. Maybe not.

In the meantime, we'll just have to wait patiently for next March when the court hearing resumes. Cliched as it may sound, they say "justice will prevail..."

Will it? Will Justice and God punish those responsible for forty-eight deaths and not leave those living to suffer any longer? Is that asking too much?

Lorraine Tan wrote this in 1998. It was out during the memorial to mark the fifth anniversary of the Highland Towers tragedy. Lorraine died on Nov 30 of liver cancer.