Cyclone Tracy eye witness accounts
Cyclone Tracy hit Darwin with such awesome force that most of it was
wiped away, below are some chilling eye witness accounts...
Tracy 1974 #1.
I was only 11 when Tracy struck Darwin and kicked the crap
out of us. At home with my Grandmother, with my parents working
their guts out at our Deli, called Mario’s, in Nightcliff.
My Grandmother and I were alone and isolated. We had no power,
no phone and no idea if we’d get through it. By about
10pm the winds were howling and things starting to fly. I recall
speaking with my mates about Tracy and we all bravely concluded
“no way! It’s just another warning”. Well
not this time. She came in like a bloody freight train, ripping
the guts out of everything, creating chaos, taking lives, smashing
her will into and through anything that stood in her path. She
had a fury that I’m sure only God could understand. I’ll
never forget the bending of steel power poles, corrugated iron
sheets flying past like jets, timber bearers spearing through
homes, fire hydrants exploding from debris, pets left to destiny,
Christmas parties ending in death, green ants disappearing for
years, trees left standing totally devoid of leaves. Creeping
out from the ruins in the morning, thinking I’d gone back
in time and was crawling through Hiroshima. One thing that will
always remain in my mind is that bloody incessant car horn that
pierced the storm, only to herald the death of a bloke up the
street whose windscreen had been shattered by a piece of tin
and smashed into his chest. With the wind catching the iron
and slamming him up and down onto that damn horn. Yep Tracy,
what a girl. Merry Christmas you Bitch.
By Paolo Fermi from Palmerston, Northern Territory
Tracy 1974 #2.
Darwin may have still been a bit wild in the days of Tracy,
but there was an understanding amongst locals. You knew how
far to push and when not to. When the Federal Government decided
we needed more police and sent the Feds up this way, they must
have come up thinking they were riding into a Western. Most
of the lads were fantastic. But I’ll never forget the
night my Dear Mother (Mamma) told me to go downstairs to get
a tin of peeled tomato out of one of the rooms, whose only entry
point was now via a hole in the wall, as the door was smashed
and blocked. Torch waving frantically left to right because
of that blasted ‘boogey man’, this beckoned the
feds like moths to a light. Before I knew it two burly federal
police were dragging me kicking and screaming down the driveway.
God if only I had a camera when my mother turned the corner
screaming her head off at them. They just let go and stood there
stunned. No wonder Mamma was affectionately known as “that
red headed bitch from Nightcliff”. God Bless ya Mum and
the rest, cause they’re all gone to party up yonder now.
By Paolo Fermi from Palmerston, Northern Territory
Tracy 1974 #3.
What about Christmas morning when we finally made it out to
the shop, a 10 km drive that only took about 2-3 hours. Well
we were so bloody lucky it was unbelievable. We were sure the
front glass would have given way and the roof would have peeled
because the building was built…well economically let’s
say! We made it round the back of the shop trying to find an
entry point as some how the shop front had withstood the onslaught.
As we got around the back, to our amazement the shop had been
shredded much like a cat getting it’s arse stuck in a
blender. The 3 brick thick wall against which all our cartons
of grog were stacked had been peeled back and there were cans
everywhere. If you were an alcoholic, then you would have been
walking into Paradise. Clambering over debris we crawled into
what was left of the building, a lot more than we expected,
let me tell you. We made our way through wiring, hoping not
to get fried, but there was no power, so no need to worry. The
winds were still strong, but nothing like hours before. Yet
the grating sounds of metal, concrete and debris flapping in
the wind chewed your nerves to the point of snapping. Here we
stood in the middle of our shop, our future and surveyed the
landscape. We knew what was coming, we knew there were rogues
out there and we knew our shop had spewed it’s guts of
grog. Time for shot guns for we could smell looters in the air.
By Paolo Fermi from Palmerston, Northern Territory
Tracy 1974 #4.
Several days after Tracy caressed our lives, we were again
making our way through the shop, our shop neighbour Mrs Savvas
made her way in. The Savvas family had and still have a shoe
shop next to where we once were. They were terrific people and
I bet that hasn’t changed. As Mrs. Savvas made her way
in, She and Mum hugged each other with tears in their eyes.
The Savvas’ shop was pretty lucky too, maybe the economical
building regimes weren’t so bad after all. Mum in her
generosity always asked people how they were and if everyone
was ok. The Savvas’s lived at the end of Smith Street
before going down the hill towards Gardens Oval and the old
Darwin tip and then Caravan Park. Long after the days of the
Aboriginal burial grounds and well before the heady days of
the Casino. Well Thank God, the Savvas’ were all ok and
between stories of survival and near misses Mum just gestured
toward the shelves and told Mrs. Savvas to help herself. Appreciatively
Mrs Savvas set off on a genuinely free shopping spree. Mum decided
to pop out the back for some reason. She only got as far as
the Coolroom and as she turned the corner, came face to face
with the barrel of a shot gun. Some cops had driven past and
seen Mrs. Savvas doing some ‘shopping’. Mum was
greeted with a “what do you think you’re doing?”
and responded like lightning with “you mean, what do you
think you’re f…g doing, get off my property and
NOW!”. Things were starting to shake themselves loose,
Darwin had already started her metamorphosis. Looters, shooters,
mass dog culls, insurance scams, change was afoot and boy has
there been some changes.
By Paolo Fermi from Palmerston, Northern Territory
Tracy 1974 #5
Not long after Tracy left her calling card, we had made our
way over to our Aunty Gail and Uncle Seppy’s place in
Millner (Rapid Creek). We often went around there for the usual
BBQ’s and get togethers. But this time we were visiting
to see if everyone was ok. Aunty Gail was our shop Manageress
and started with only about 6-8 weeks of work in mind. 11 years
later she retired, so to speak, after an amazing input into
both the shop and our personal lives. Suffice to say, we called
them Aunty and Uncle for a damn good reason. They were more
than just friends, they were family. Anyway, as it so happened,
when we were around at their place, Uncle Sep was telling us
how their Dalmatian had wandered off sometime ealier that day
around Rapid Creek, only to return later with a severed forearm
in her mouth. Uncle Seppy had a bit of a ‘background’
as a croc, buff and roo shooter, so this didn’t come as
a shock to him. Somewhere in the proceedings I seem to recall
Seppy nonchalantly saying he’d better take the arm down
to the local cop station as being a shooter he wasn’t
keen on some-one being left arm-less. It was funny how we made
light of such serious situations, but when the chips were down
there was a need to keep a keen sense of humor.
I remember keenly when Uncle Seppy told us how as Tracy was
bearing down on them, he was lying on their double bed, with
Aunty Gail and Robyn huddled up together between mattresses
in the hallway. At some point Uncle Seppy decided to get up
to check on the ‘girls’. No sooner had he raised
himself up off the mattress than a piece of timber pierced the
roof and came screeching through the ceiling and straight through
the bed, exactly where he had just been laying. It hit so hard
Seppy said, that it went straight through the bed and smashed
into the vinyl covered concrete floor, sending splinters and
timber everywhere. Seppy had had to make some pretty quick moves
in his life, as a shooter to save his skin, especially from
huge crocs and buffs, but this move was definitely one that
saved him from a force stronger than any croc or buff he would
have ever faced.
By Paolo Fermi from Palmerston, Northern Territory
Have you been through cyclone Tracy?
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