On April 15, 1989 over 24,000 Liverpool fans travelled to Hillsborough to support their team in the FA Cup semi-final against Nottingham Forest. Ninety-six of them never returned.
Here players, fans and survivors tell the story of one of Liverpool Football Club's darkest hours.

KENNY DALGLISH, Liverpool manager in 1989: We had been the previous year to the same venue and to play the same opposition, so we had prepared in exactly the same way. We stayed in the same hotel, the training preparations were the same and everything was normal. We ate at the same time on the morning of the game and left our hotel as usual to travel to the ground. There was nothing to suggest it was any different to the year before.

STEVE ROTHERAM, Lord Mayor of Liverpool and fan at Hillsborough: I remember that we made our way to Sheffield and got there 20 minutes before kick-off. I just remember it being a glorious day. We'd been there the year before but there didn't seem to be the same order and control. I'd swapped my ticket just before the match to go into the stand above the Leppings Lane and I got into my seat just before kick-off.

RAY HOUGHTON, player in 1989: It was a lovely day for football. The players were excited, everything looked normal to us and all we were concerned with was getting out there, putting a good performance in and getting into another final. Six minutes in, Peter Beardsley had just hit the crossbar and I remember being on the pitch and a Liverpool fan came running up to me and said, 'There are people dying in there.' At the time I couldn't comprehend what he meant by that. My first thought was that some of the opposition fans had gotten into the Liverpool end and there had been a fight. But I never could have imagined it would be anything like it turned out to be.

NEIL FITZMAURICE, actor writer and survivor: There was a large group of people there - most were just hanging about soaking up the atmosphere. When we did start heading in, the first thing that struck me was the size of the turnstiles. They were basically gaps in brick walls - you were almost having to go in sideways. That was where the crushes started, though perhaps you could say they were the kind of crushes you always had to put up with at the football. Once we got in, there was a huge blue gate that was closed, and the area was swelling up like a bottleneck. I can remember a policeman on a white horse and he was adding to the congestion because the horse was kicking out if anyone got too near. The gate was eventually opened and fans started to pour in. My brother Peter travelled separately and he came up to me. He'd been before and knew of a really weird design fault. He told me there was another two entrances that you couldn't see. I'd presumed there was only one way in. Our Peter left then, so me and my mates started walking down this really dank, dark tunnel towards the stand. The game had already kicked off at this stage and we heard our fans singing, so we joined in. We were midway down when this wave hit us. We were literally lifted.

BRIAN READE, Daily Mirror columnist and fan at Hillsborough: The fans in the central pens looked like sardines packed in together. You could see on either side that there was more space and it seemed weird so many were in that same area. The noise was strange too. There was like a muffled murmur in the air - very different from a normal match day.

JOHN BARNES, player in 1989: I didn't realise anything was amiss on the Leppings Lane terrace until a couple of fans ran on to the pitch shouting, 'There are people being killed in there.' I thought they were exaggerating, like when players say 'that tackle nearly killed me'. I just thought the fans were getting a bit squashed. But Bruce Grobbelaar, who was closest to the Leppings Lane terrace, quickly realised there was something terribly wrong when he went to retrieve a ball and heard fans screaming - 'They're killing us, Bruce, they're killing us'. Bruce shouted at the stewards to do something.

JOHN ALDRIDGE, player in 1989: I was the Liverpool player furthest away from the Leppings Lane terrace when a fan decked out in Liverpool red approached Ray Houghton and shouted something at him. I assumed it was some kind of pitch invasion. The last action I could remember was Peter Beardsley hitting the crossbar with a fierce shot. But soon a policeman with a look of concern approached referee Ray Lewis and began talking to him. The game was brought to a halt. I remember Steve Nicol saying something to the referee, though I was too far away to hear anything. I didn't have a clue what was going on.

IAN RUSH, substitute at Hillsborough in 1989: What followed was a complete nightmare. The players began to run off the pitch and chaos ensued. We were trying to stay focused in the dressing room and the referee told us we'd be back on in five minutes. But we all knew something wasn't right and when Kenny appeared he looked extremely concerned. I then heard a voice shouting 'People are dying', before the referee appeared to tell us it was abandoned.

CHRIS MANN, Hillsborough survivor: For a few minutes in those enclosures, everybody shared the same fear. I survived because somebody went under a barrier. I was pushed up against it with no way of lifting myself over. My ribs felt like they were about to snap at any second and my lungs were on fire. I reached out and pushed up on the nearest thing. As I was pushing myself up, I looked around and realised that I was pushing someone else down. I wanted to stop, but I knew if I did, I would go down with him. So I didn't stop, and he went down, and I still don't know if I killed him.

EDDIE SPEARRITT, Survivor who lost his 14-year-old son, Adam: There was a policeman on the track. He must have been five or six feet away from me, and I was screaming and begging him to open the perimeter gate. You can scream your head off when you're trying to save your son's life. I was really screaming, but he didn't open the gate. I was right at the front and I'm screaming that Adam had fainted. I think at one stage I even said he was dying, but he didn't open the gate. I woke up in hospital on Sunday evening to find that Adam had died.

JOHN ALDRIDGE: The confirmation that Liverpool fans had died reached us while we were getting changed. Some of us were showering, though some had already put their clothes back on. Again, I don't remember exactly what I did. I cast my eyes over to John Barnes and could see tears in his eyes. He was sitting there quietly, not wanting to be disturbed. A few of the other players looked stunned. I couldn't talk. Nobody could. There was a strange sort of silence. Usually there is much conversation and banter when the lads are all together in the dressing-room. Not now. Too many thoughts were flashing through our minds. The sense of logic was disappearing.

ALAN HANSEN, player in 1989: It was surreal. We could not believe what was happening. It never really sunk in until we went upstairs and saw what was happening on television. Our wives and girlfriends were in tears and that's when we realised the magnitude of the disaster that was happening in front of our eyes. Without a shadow of a doubt it was the worst time of my career.

ROY EVANS, coach in 1989: The journey back home was one of numbness. We didn't have all the details at the ground but on the coach home we were getting phone calls from friends. Both my son and Kenny Dalglish's son had gone to the game with a friend of ours. At first you begin to wonder if they were involved, but we got a phone call from the lad who had taken them and he gave us a better picture of what had happened.

DESI FOX, lost his 21-year-old son, Steve: The hardest thing was trying to get information on the day of the tragedy. We weren't able to get through to the stadium or to the police in Sheffield at any time of day or night. The only information we received was from Tommy who was at the match. I remember being interviewed by the police at home some days after the disaster. The detectives were asking me if Steve or his mates drunk very much that day. I threw them out the house. Following the inquest and inquiry into Hillsborough not one person or organisation was blamed for the tragedy. The inquests were a complete whitewash. How can 96 people die and nobody be at fault?

KENNY DALGLISH: It taught me the value of life, really. Football is very, very important but for two or three weeks after Hillsborough it became unimportant. The most important part of that time were the people's lives. Those who lost people were the ones who made the decision of whether we went back to play or not. For me, the greatest thing we did was to win the FA Cup that year.

BRIAN READE: I went to bed that night and I had the worst sleep of my life. I had this horrible nightmare and drenched the bed with sweat. I had to go to the spare room and I drenched that too. The toll of the day was just coming out of me. I needed to get it out of me, so I wrote a piece. I worked at the Daily Post at the time and titled it 'Dead because they didn't count'. It was about how society had mistreated football fans to such an extent that this is what happens. People die behind cages because they are football fans and they don't count.

KENNY DALGLISH: These fans only turned up to watch a football match which had been organised by a Football Association which dictated the ground, the kick-off time and what ends the clubs were at. They put the organisation in charge of it - the police. Something went wrong. Everything was perfect the year before, so something went wrong somewhere. If somebody would just stand up and hold themselves accountable for it then I'm sure the families would rest happily with that. They are not looking for a great deal, just for someone to take responsibility for what happened.
The supporters were criticised for turning up late, but I don't see how they can be when you look at the roadworks which were on the motorway at that time. If the authorities had communicated with each other and reported there were buses stuck on the motorway then we could have delayed the match. Whether it be for half an hour or an hour, what difference would it have made? Kick offs had been delayed before and it could have been done again. The families just want someone to say 'look, it was our fault and we should have done better.'