Nagambie Brewery and Distillery staff members chef Col Jackson and Aimee Cahill deliver fresh sandwiches and fruit to the depot on January 12.
Photo by
Megan Fisher
The Strathbogie Ranges usually cut a jagged outline of rising and falling peaks, just like the pattern of a lifeline steadily printing on thermal paper, signalling to a traveller they’ve reached the hills.
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As we approached Euroa on January 12, however, they were barely visible on the horizon; a thick cloud of smoke hung heavily around them, shrouding them from clear view.
The ominous scene wasn’t a warning of what was to come; it told of tragedy that had already struck, a lingering reminder.
Though, even when the smoke clears, the reminders will remain for months. Years. A lifetime for some.
In town, it was business as usual.
Binney St was abuzz.
People swarmed the streets, filled cafés, smiled at each other as they stopped to chat on the footpaths.
Community volunteers sacrificed income to be in Longwood to help get farmers back on their feet after fires swept through the area.
Photo by
Megan Fisher
If you didn’t know what had just unfolded in this community, you wouldn’t by looking.
But if you listened to the conversations, you would know there’d been a fire.
Not just any fire, but a beast that decimated more than 150 structures in the area, 136,000 of hectares of land (so far), and sadly took a man’s life and those of thousands of animals.
Heartbreaking.
The hilly lifeline that was absent from the horizon instead existed at ground level.
The community is the beating heart.
Out at Depot Rd, Longwood, a fodder distribution centre was a hive of helpful and heroic activity.
State Member for Euroa Annabelle Cleeland and her 15-month-old daughter Sigrid watch in awe of their community as more trucks of donated hay roll into Longwood.
Photo by
Megan Fisher
Hay mounted up in paddocks as truck after truck loaded with the lifesaving feed rolled through the gates to the property local Neil Tubb had made indefinitely available for the operations.
“An iconic family in the region,” Annabelle Cleeland told me, mentioning that there’s a Victoria Cross recipient in the bloodline and statues in their honour.
“This is the fabric of Longwood, they are used to helping each other; they know how to step up,” the Member for Euroa said.
Some 30 volunteers at the site also knew how to step up, despite their own harrowing hardships.
People who’d lost their own homes, farms and animals were there.
Not for help, but to help.
Heartwarming.
The true grit of a community was on full display.
People embraced. They laughed through their tears. They shared food. They gave and gave when they’d seemingly lost everything themselves.
Humans can try to control fire, flood and famine, but we’re up against Mother Nature and her wildly unpredictable behaviours.
Annabelle said she blurred the line between her role as an MP and landowner in the affected area.
“I know that this isn’t professionally necessarily my role, but this is my community,” she said.
“We’ve experienced it, we’ve lost a thousand sheep ourselves. My husband’s having to euthanise our stock. We’ve personally got a recovery that we will process, but this is the community wrapping their arms around all of us.”
She said hers was not one to roll over and sleep.
“Half of these guys haven’t left the truck, you know, we’ve got the mayor of Strathbogie who fought for five days on the truck himself, and now he’s on the ground saying what we need,” she said.
“He’s had no power, no water, no phone reception during 40-degree days, so this is a remarkable community.”
What was clear in Euroa and Longwood on Monday was that while we can’t count on Mother Nature to have our backs, we can count on community.
What is happening there is as heartwarming as it is heartbreaking.
