Zoé Pallier (in Bastia), edited by Laura Laplaud 10:53 a.m., May 05, 2022

On May 5, 1992, SC Bastia was to face Olympique de Marseille in the semi-finals of the French Football Cup at Furiani.

For the occasion, the leaders of the Corsican club decide to triple the reception capacity of the stadium and a new temporary stand is hastily built.

Except that a party collapses just before kickoff.

It was thirty years ago to the day.

On May 5, 1992, SC Bastia was to face Olympique de Marseille in the semi-finals of the French Football Cup at Furiani.

A highly anticipated game.

For the occasion, the leaders of the Corsican club decide to triple the reception capacity of the stadium.

A new temporary stand is hastily built.

Except that a party collapses just before kick-off.

More than 3,000 supporters were then thrown into the void, killing 18 and injuring more than 2,000.

Three decades later, survivors and families of victims perpetuate the memory of this disaster.

A family and collective drama

"On this black marble stone, the third name is that of my sister", describes Corinne while reading "Marie-Pierre".

This first name, she shouted it for long minutes on May 5, 1992 before discovering her sister under a tangle of scrap metal and beams, face against the ground.

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Just a few meters away, a cross wrapped in the multicolored scarves of supporters now serves as a monument.

"All this is thirty years old, it has never been moved or touched," she says.

"It stays as it is and it's important for us because it's always the same thing, time doesn't appease anything."

A duty of memory

A family and collective drama, believes Jean-Luc, come to meditate in front of the stele exposed to the clamor that escapes from the stadium.

"It's a duty of memory. And then hey, we love our club, SC Bastia, and it's part of its history. It's not the best, but it's part of its history too."

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"I was at the very top, I fell 17 meters," says Paul.

"It's my body that remembers it," he sighs.

Thirty years that he can no longer move his legs and that he goes from hospital to hospital in a wheelchair.

"It's important to come, not to forget this date."

A smile lights up Paul's face, however, when dozens of children approach him in turn, because that is the goal of the victims and their families: to cultivate the memory of Furiani for those who did not experience the May 5, 92.