Extraordinary People
Black Saturday remembered
By: Christopher Neesham
Christopher Neesham visits Kinglake, one of the worst hit towns devastated by the Black Saturday fires in Victoria, Australia in February 2009
Posted: 11/01/2010
Six months later and the State Emergency Services were still cutting down blackened trees.
I was in Australia in August 2009 and visited Kinglake, a small rural community on the fringe of Melbourne, nestled in the hills and surrounded by bush. The town offers residents space to grow, and an affordable lifestyle close to nature; it's a tightly knit, friendly community where newcomers are made to feel welcome and valued. Like many communities in Victoria there is an acute awareness of the risk of bushfires. On Saturday 7th February there was an uneasiness, a sense that something might happen, but nobody ever expected the devastation and horror that would arrive that afternoon on Black Saturday.
Leanne is a resident who has lived in Kinglake with her family for 14 years. I had the opportunity to talk with her and share her experiences on that day.
"Saturday was very hot, intense; it had been building up, with three days of 40 degrees plus. We were aware of the chances of fire: you just had to look out of your door and common sense tells you things would be bad. But somehow you think it won't happen. Kinglake has been threatened before.
"The first moment I became aware of the fire was when we were driving to Whittlesea, and were confronted by a wall of fire. I turned the car around and rushed back home to get the children out of the house with their grandfather. We had to make a decision to stay and defend our home or leave," she says. Staying and fighting a fire was a practise supported by the Country Fire Authority of Victoria that has since been questioned by others who point to the appalling numbers of people killed while defending their homes. Leanne chose to stay with her husband and son and fight the fire. It was a decision made by many others that day, tragically for some it would be a fatal mistake.
"We had a water pump and were prepared, but nothing - nothing - can prepare you for this. The fire started spotting (embers that precede the fire causing small fires) next door. And then the fire front arrived. When I saw the wall of flame it was surreal, and though that this couldn't be happening to us. What followed was 15 minutes of terror; the pump stopped working and we retreated into the house. When the fire hit, the sound was like a jet landing on the roof. The force of the fire ripped the door open, windows popped with the heat. The house filled with smoke; you couldn't breathe or see - it was pitch black. I thought I was going to die. I was feeling angry, because I'd let my son stay. I thought that he would die with me."
At its height the power of the fire was immense, a fire storm, hell's breath, its force incomprehensible. Those who chose to stay and defend were on their own. Both the township's two fire trucks and crews were off the mountain, deployed elsewhere. David against a 1,000 Goliaths, each wielding his power indiscriminately. Fire ecology expert and Melbourne University lecturer Kevin Tolhurst estimates that at its height the fire generated a destructive potential equal to 500 Hiroshima bombs with 80,000 kilowatts per metre of flame front. Flames were hot enough to melt wheels and alloy of engine blocks. Temperatures were in excess of 1,200 degrees.
This entire hillside in Kinglake was razed, yet green shoots are beginning to reappear.
By the time the fire had passed through the Kinglake area 120 people would be dead, (38 in Kinglake) 180,000 hectares destroyed, and 1,244 houses destroyed. For the survivors there were apocalyptic scenes of horror, burnt victims, charred animals, incinerated vehicles, razed houses, smouldering bush, lunar ash inches deep.
"We were lucky. Others were not so lucky. For the first few days Kinglake was cut off - there were about 200 of us here then. You'd look for friends, find people, cry and cuddle, even if they were strangers. You were alive and they were alive. You'd been through something enormous and survived. In those first few days there was so much kindness, shopkeepers gave away their stock, everybody helped in any way they could. Those who remained coped better; we could share stories, and try to get rid of this burden."
There are people who will never come back. There was a family of six who chose to evacuate their home. When fuel evaporated in their car and failed to start they abandoned their vehicle, running along the road flanked by flames. Six cars passed ignoring their desperate pleas for help. Until one car stopped saving them from what would have been certain death. This experience has changed them.
"The fire touched us all," says Leanne. "We all know someone who has died. I felt guilty because our house hadn't burnt down, our children were alive. There were people who had lost their homes, family members, 31 children lost one or both parents, and 18 children died. I kept thinking what more I could have done. The reaction of those outside Kinglake was humbling. I didn't think we deserved so much help, others were worse off than ourselves. In situations like Black Saturday it is easy to blame others. Mistakes were made but the authorities did what they could. We expected a fire but no one expected this.
"Since the fire I've learnt a lot: to be prepared, that life is fragile, that there are so many good people out there. Such an experience can bring out the best in people. A circle of generosity, kindness brings kindness. I've changed, I know what is most important in life, my family; life is a gift that needs to be shared, and time is finite. There have been difficult moments. We call it ‘Kinglake meltdown' when I have not coped well, I've just fallen apart crying, sometimes when I was alone it would hit me, but this has passed.'
Black Saturday has become embedded in the Australian psyche; for as long as bushfires remain a possibility Black Saturday will stay in the national consciousness. However for every event there is an equal and opposite reaction. The destructive magnitude of the fires has been matched by overwhelming generosity: 26,000 volunteers were mobilised, 22,000 pallets of goods donated. The Red Cross bushfire appeal received $382 million in donations, from countries as far away as Romania and Ireland.
An Australian flag tied to a road sign is a small sign of defiance.
Mistakes have indeed been made and there is a willingness to learn from these mistakes. Australia's approaching bushfire season adds urgency to finding solutions. Former Victorian Police Commissioner Christine Nixon, now Chair of the Victorian Bushfire Reconstruction and Recovery Authority, believes leaders (herself included) should be prepared to admit mistakes and take responsibility. She describes her role as a leader to be seen and at all times demonstrate respect for those affected by the fires; to inform, and separate facts from rumour, give them the truth. "Listen," she told me, "let those affected be heard, because victims have the right to ask what are you going to do, now! They expect immediate action but also need to know what will happen in the long term." Christine is listening not only to the victims but to specialists in the field; in particular she thanks the contribution of psychologist and disaster management specialist, Rob Gordon.
For Rob recovery for communities like Kinglake means moving forward, not allowing themselves to be defined by the fire, trauma and the task of survival. This means mobilising resources to revitalise social bonds, engaging, educating and empowering the community; opening channels of communication, in so doing connecting people and creating meaningful social bonds. From the ashes a new community will arise, one which preserves continuity with the past before the fire, but recognises it will not be the same.
For those who lived through the fires, there is a sense of vulnerability, which tests our own complacency, but in this chalice there is a new respect for life, a sense of knowing the important things in life: family, friends and a determination to live fully and well.
Christopher Neesham is a consulting psychologist and director of Neesham Consulting
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