We remember
Apr. 28th, 2002 12:01 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
boodieI wrote these pieces in 1996 and '97, in 2002 as another anniversary rolls around, the effects of the massacre at Port Arthur are still being felt, some people might never recover from the horror they have endured, Tasmania remembers, for eternity.
*** Area: LTUAE Date: 29 Apr 96 19:50:00
*** From: Teddy (3:670/213.1)
*** To : All
*** Subj: The Day We Lost Our Innocence
Not in Tasmania.
Never in Tasmania
This is something that happens in America, something thats happens on the
mainland where the strain of city living sends people over the edge.
Not in Tasmania.
It's not as if Tassy has been completely free of terrible crimes, the
dissapearance of Lucille Butterworth almost 30 years is still open on the
police books, the dissapearance of Nancy Grundwald on the east coast two years ago still haunts, where is her body, who did it, the brutal murder of Victoria Caffaso, in the same place, who did that, who's sheltering the murderer, who knows and who isn't telling.
The tragedies of the the Bushfires, the Tasman bridge falling down, horrific car accidents, all terrible events, but even in the light of these Tassy still retained her innocence.
Not any more.
With the actions of one man, Tasmania has been catapulted onto the world stage in the worst possible way, for the worst possible reasons, the worst civilian massacre in the world.. IN THE WORLD!!
World records are usually something to be proud of, but only the sickest of
minds could find some joy in that title.
It touches all of us, some in more personal ways than others, yesterday
afternoon I was at my Sisters place, we were celebrating a birthday, the phone rang, "Quick turn on the news, the TV anything, theres been a massacre at Port Arthur, at least 20 people are dead".
Horrified we did that, turned on the news, and then turned in horror as my
mother said, "Your Father was supposed to be down there this afternoon driving a tour bus of Asian tourists".
It became all too real.
On the phone to Redline Coaches, no answer, onto my fathers Mobile phone "the Number you are dialling is either switched off or out of range".. try and try again.
News filters through, one of the shot men was a bus driver.
Hearts in mouths we listen and watch and the news gets worse all the time,
more bodies, more carnage, horror upon horror.
Horror turns to relief when the phone rings and it's my father, he's fine,
ended up not going to Port Arthur, but he knows the driver who was shot.
Relief turns to numbness.
Never in Tasmania.
*** Area: LTUAE Date: 28 Apr 97 14:50:00
*** From: Teddy (3:670/213.1)
*** To : All
*** Subj: In Memoriam
The autumn leaf has always been a symbol of the passing of the year, and the seasons, last year the Autumn leaf took on a whole new meaning, coming to symbolise as it did the tragedy of the events of April 28th at Port Arthur, where 35 people lost their life, and a state lost her innocence.
I remember writing in the days that followed Port Arthur about the effect it had on the pysche of the people of Tasmania, accustomed as we were to stories of horror emanating from all corners of the globe, from cities on the mainland, we assured ourselves that such a thing could never happen here, not in Tasmania, not in our peaceful, quiet little state.
Quiet and peaceful does not guarantee that such a thing could never happen here, as we found out, in the horror that followed on that beautiful Autumn day, in a place that had already seen so much horror, when a man, a pathetic specimen of humanity ensured himself a place in history, as the perpertrator of the worlds worst massacre by a lone gunman.
Coming to know as the days went by, the human face of such a terrible event, what human being, no matter how bitter or dark his inner soul could fail to be moved by the grief on the face of Walter Mikac, mourning the loss of his Wife, and two adorable children, parents losing sons and daughters. Sons and daughters losing parents, a whole community losing friends, good friends.
A whole year has passed, and this morning I joined in with various others in remembering the events, and the human face of this tragedy, I lit my candle for the victims and survivors of Port Arthur, once again I let my grief show, even now one year on the grief is still there, and I was at best only peripherally affected.
April has always seemed like such a sad month to me anyway, summer has gone, the year is getting old, winter will soon be here, the promise of Spring and rebirth seems a long way off, yet as was said "The Daffodils will bloom again". Waiting for those Daffodils to bloom for some people will be a life long task, others will be able to grieve and go on.
Yet for the people of the Tasman Peninsula, and for Tasmanians in general, as well as the families of victims and survivors, living in other states and overseas, Autumn will always symbolise a time when innocence and peace crumpled under a rain of gun fire.
*** Area: LTUAE Date: 29 Apr 96 19:50:00
*** From: Teddy (3:670/213.1)
*** To : All
*** Subj: The Day We Lost Our Innocence
Not in Tasmania.
Never in Tasmania
This is something that happens in America, something thats happens on the
mainland where the strain of city living sends people over the edge.
Not in Tasmania.
It's not as if Tassy has been completely free of terrible crimes, the
dissapearance of Lucille Butterworth almost 30 years is still open on the
police books, the dissapearance of Nancy Grundwald on the east coast two years ago still haunts, where is her body, who did it, the brutal murder of Victoria Caffaso, in the same place, who did that, who's sheltering the murderer, who knows and who isn't telling.
The tragedies of the the Bushfires, the Tasman bridge falling down, horrific car accidents, all terrible events, but even in the light of these Tassy still retained her innocence.
Not any more.
With the actions of one man, Tasmania has been catapulted onto the world stage in the worst possible way, for the worst possible reasons, the worst civilian massacre in the world.. IN THE WORLD!!
World records are usually something to be proud of, but only the sickest of
minds could find some joy in that title.
It touches all of us, some in more personal ways than others, yesterday
afternoon I was at my Sisters place, we were celebrating a birthday, the phone rang, "Quick turn on the news, the TV anything, theres been a massacre at Port Arthur, at least 20 people are dead".
Horrified we did that, turned on the news, and then turned in horror as my
mother said, "Your Father was supposed to be down there this afternoon driving a tour bus of Asian tourists".
It became all too real.
On the phone to Redline Coaches, no answer, onto my fathers Mobile phone "the Number you are dialling is either switched off or out of range".. try and try again.
News filters through, one of the shot men was a bus driver.
Hearts in mouths we listen and watch and the news gets worse all the time,
more bodies, more carnage, horror upon horror.
Horror turns to relief when the phone rings and it's my father, he's fine,
ended up not going to Port Arthur, but he knows the driver who was shot.
Relief turns to numbness.
Never in Tasmania.
*** Area: LTUAE Date: 28 Apr 97 14:50:00
*** From: Teddy (3:670/213.1)
*** To : All
*** Subj: In Memoriam
The autumn leaf has always been a symbol of the passing of the year, and the seasons, last year the Autumn leaf took on a whole new meaning, coming to symbolise as it did the tragedy of the events of April 28th at Port Arthur, where 35 people lost their life, and a state lost her innocence.
I remember writing in the days that followed Port Arthur about the effect it had on the pysche of the people of Tasmania, accustomed as we were to stories of horror emanating from all corners of the globe, from cities on the mainland, we assured ourselves that such a thing could never happen here, not in Tasmania, not in our peaceful, quiet little state.
Quiet and peaceful does not guarantee that such a thing could never happen here, as we found out, in the horror that followed on that beautiful Autumn day, in a place that had already seen so much horror, when a man, a pathetic specimen of humanity ensured himself a place in history, as the perpertrator of the worlds worst massacre by a lone gunman.
Coming to know as the days went by, the human face of such a terrible event, what human being, no matter how bitter or dark his inner soul could fail to be moved by the grief on the face of Walter Mikac, mourning the loss of his Wife, and two adorable children, parents losing sons and daughters. Sons and daughters losing parents, a whole community losing friends, good friends.
A whole year has passed, and this morning I joined in with various others in remembering the events, and the human face of this tragedy, I lit my candle for the victims and survivors of Port Arthur, once again I let my grief show, even now one year on the grief is still there, and I was at best only peripherally affected.
April has always seemed like such a sad month to me anyway, summer has gone, the year is getting old, winter will soon be here, the promise of Spring and rebirth seems a long way off, yet as was said "The Daffodils will bloom again". Waiting for those Daffodils to bloom for some people will be a life long task, others will be able to grieve and go on.
Yet for the people of the Tasman Peninsula, and for Tasmanians in general, as well as the families of victims and survivors, living in other states and overseas, Autumn will always symbolise a time when innocence and peace crumpled under a rain of gun fire.
