Noreen reflects on Black Friday
I wrote recently about the 70th anniversary of “Black Friday” coming up on January 13.
The Age newspaper in Melbourne has a story on the fires today, including an interview with my aunt Noreen Warren.
Noreen is the only one of my grandparents’ 12 children still alive. It’s great that she is commemorating the anniversary. Here’s an extract from the article:
Noreen Warren, 78, of Wandin, cried this week remembering how her brother, Michael Gorey, died. Michael, 18, and another brother, Jim, 21, worked at Saxton’s sawmill, deep in the forest at Tanjil Bren, 60 kilometres east of Warburton. Jim Gorey was one of 40 men who survived in a dugout as fire destroyed the mill.
Michael Gorey helped mill owners Ben and Dorothy Saxton shelter in a smaller, faulty dugout. Mr Saxton died when rocks fell on his head. Mrs Saxton and Michael Gorey suffocated.
Sixteen kilometres south of the mill, at Fumina at the foot of Mount Baw Baw, Mrs Warren, then eight, cowered under wet blankets in a field with her parents and five siblings. The flames came within 50 metres, “but I didn’t feel afraid because I was with mum and dad”.
She watched her house go up in flames and heard the bellows of their 20 cows, which died in the fire or were later shot.
I haven’t spoken to Noreen since Dad’s funeral. I suspect she feels some responsibility, as the family matriarch, to make sure those events are remembered.
I feel that responsibility myself as I get older. Curiously, I’m the only one of my generation with the Gorey surname. Dad was the only one of the boys to have children.
The anniversary of the fire is close to my birthday, so I tend to reflect on it every year.
The photo below from The Age shows Noreen with two other survivors of the fire, Norm Golding and Ted Chisholm. Mr Golding won a Royal Humane Society bronze medal for bravery that day.
I just noticed this post. I’ve heard about Black Friday but never read anything in detail about it. This sort of personal anecdote is what gives a hard reality to it. I suppose “dugout” was the preferred word in those days for what we’d call a bunker. What a terrible, unfair end for your uncle.
There has been renewed discussion about dugouts (or bunkers) since last week’s devastating fires.
In fact, I had a call from a Radio National researcher who read this blog. I put him in touch with Noreen, who was interviewed by Philip Adams.
Experts have been dismissive of dugouts since the 1960s, claiming ventilation problems and the risk of suffocation.
My uncle Jim was among dozens of men who survived the 1939 fire in a dugout.
This made me think of my Uncle Jim, the survivor mentioned above. He was one of the happiest, friendliest, kindest and most generous men I have ever met. I was in my early teens when he died and I still think of him often.
If his brother Micheal was anything like Jim then it is a great loss that he died so young.
You might be the only one with the Gorey name now Michael but there are lots of us that have plenty of gorey in us. My own daughter has a healthy dose of her great grandmother “Mim” Mary Gorey in her.