lighting a candle
Apr. 28th, 2006 01:32 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
boodieI wrote these pieces in 1996 and in 1997, it is now 2006. The tenth anniversary of
this horrendous, terrible event is upon us, 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 publically for the last time, I
light my candle for the last time, it is time to move on.
*** 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. In other parts of the world.
Not in Tasmania.
It's not as if we have 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 we still
retained our 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, there has been a massacre at Port
Arthur, at least 20 people are dead".
Horrified, we did that, we turned on the news, and then we turned in horror as my
mother said, "Your Father was supposed to be down there this afternoon driving
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,
they 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 on the day 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 we did, the human faces of such a terrible event, in the days
that followed, what person, 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 the rest of my fellow
Tasmanians in remembering the event, and the human face of this tragedy, I lit my
candle for the victims and survivors of Port Arthur, 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.
To the memory of the loved ones lost.
Winifred Joyce Aplin
Walter John Bennett
Nicole Louise Burgess
Sou Leng Chung
Elva Rhonda Gaylard
Zoe Anne Hall
Elizabeth Jayne Howard
Mary Elizabeth Howard
Mervyn John Howard
Ronald Noel Jary
Tony Vadivelu Kistan
Leslie Dennis Lever
Sarah Kate Loughton
David Martin
Noelene Joyce (Sally) Martin
Pauline Virjeana Masters
Alannah Louise Mikac, 6
Madeline Grace Mikac, 3
Nanette Patricia Mikac
Andrew Bruce Mills
Peter Brenton Nash
Gwenda Joan Neander
Mo Yee William Ng
Anthony Nightingale
Mary Rose Nixon
Glenn Roy Pears
Russell James Pollard
Janette Quin
Helene Maria Salzmann
Robert Salzmann
Kate Elizabeth Scott
Kevin Vincent Sharp
Raymond John Sharp
Royce William Thompson
Jason Bernard Winter
this horrendous, terrible event is upon us, 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 publically for the last time, I
light my candle for the last time, it is time to move on.
*** 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. In other parts of the world.
Not in Tasmania.
It's not as if we have 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 we still
retained our 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, there has been a massacre at Port
Arthur, at least 20 people are dead".
Horrified, we did that, we turned on the news, and then we turned in horror as my
mother said, "Your Father was supposed to be down there this afternoon driving
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,
they 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 on the day 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 we did, the human faces of such a terrible event, in the days
that followed, what person, 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 the rest of my fellow
Tasmanians in remembering the event, and the human face of this tragedy, I lit my
candle for the victims and survivors of Port Arthur, 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.
To the memory of the loved ones lost.
Winifred Joyce Aplin
Walter John Bennett
Nicole Louise Burgess
Sou Leng Chung
Elva Rhonda Gaylard
Zoe Anne Hall
Elizabeth Jayne Howard
Mary Elizabeth Howard
Mervyn John Howard
Ronald Noel Jary
Tony Vadivelu Kistan
Leslie Dennis Lever
Sarah Kate Loughton
David Martin
Noelene Joyce (Sally) Martin
Pauline Virjeana Masters
Alannah Louise Mikac, 6
Madeline Grace Mikac, 3
Nanette Patricia Mikac
Andrew Bruce Mills
Peter Brenton Nash
Gwenda Joan Neander
Mo Yee William Ng
Anthony Nightingale
Mary Rose Nixon
Glenn Roy Pears
Russell James Pollard
Janette Quin
Helene Maria Salzmann
Robert Salzmann
Kate Elizabeth Scott
Kevin Vincent Sharp
Raymond John Sharp
Royce William Thompson
Jason Bernard Winter
