This morning I listened to Melbourne FoxFM's breakfast show with Matt Tilley and Jo Stanley which was broadcasting from Kinglake.

Throughout the show they talked to people who'd faced the horror of February 7th last year.

Matt and Jo are both parents.  So it must have been hard for them to hear from people who'd lost partners and children during the horrific bushfires that day.  You could hear it in their tone, how much it touched them on a deep level.

It was hard to hear a father and husband describe surviving the ordeal and losing his wife and children that day, just metres from the safety of a dam.

Last year, I got involved with Twitter working to help a niece in Gippsland who came within a hundred metres of danger that first day of the fires.  I came out of that period with a family spread over four areas safe...but today I listened to men who'd similarly tried to do their best to save their loved ones, only to tragically lose them.  They too had worked so hard, especially right there in the danger zone.  They gave their guts worth.  They made supreme efforts to try to beat the odds.

Up in the worst-affected areas, there are some miraculous tales of survival against those odds.  But the thing with fate is...the same amount of effort to save lives doesn't always end up with the same result.

I'm a father myself.  And I shed tears this morning listening to the gentleman in the example a few paragraphs above.

I got an idea of what survivors' guilt must feel like.

One item on the Matt and Jo show did raise an eyebrow when one person mentioned that there was an expectation of "moving on" from the events of last year.

Excuse me for saying this, but it's ignorance to expect someone to move on in so quick a time from such horrific experiences.

Healing from such experiences by the first anniversary is an impossibility.  The first anniversary is a milestone in the recovery...and the first year after such losses is always the worst.  Give these people at least five years to fully heal.  Don't rush the natural healing process.  Let them at least get through this first year before having expectations of them even beginning to start moving forward.

Interestingly, these same people will not only eventually recover, they will probably go on to have a greater empathy for others in different disasters.  They'll turn their worst experience eventually into a positive that helps people in later situations.

If you've never lost anything major in your life, if you weren't affected even directly by February 7 last year...try and remember these people lost everything.  They especially lost the most important thing, their loved ones.  Try and realistically imagine how you'd be if you lost everything you held so dear, even in spite of your best efforts.

Helping these people recover is better assisted by understanding the process of grieving and recovery.

Getting past the first anniversary is the start.

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Anniversary of Black Saturday

When Accidents Cause Fire

Seven days' time marks the anniversary of the worst disaster Victorians have faced.

February 7 a year ago was Black Saturday...the hottest day not only of last year, but of all time since records started.  It became six weeks of hell for almost everyone.  If not especially for those in the disaster areas, for those who knew someone who was.  Very few Victorians could not be unaffected as they knew friends or relatives who had either died or who were in the displaced.

In one way, it brought about an incredible community spirit as Victorians and even non-Victorians struggled to find any way they could to help.

Social media especially was utilized to provide ways to keep expatriate Victorians informed, to take some of the pressure off over-burdened CFA systems, or simply just to get as much timely information out as possible of any new fire danger.

We'd already seen how Twitter was utilized in other situations around the world, but with the Victorian bushfires, Australians worked to make it even more effective as an information system.  Mashups with Google maps and other satellite mapping systems were brought into play and even Twitpics sent from some areas close to fires helped provide what was needed.

One name cropped up on Twitter showing a huge concern for one little town...@rexster.  When I first saw his tweets on the situation in Flowerdale, I didn't know if he was a country bumpkin or a CEO, but he kept tweeting of what was happening in Flowerdale and how he was trying to get some supplies into the place to help them save what they had left.  I remember putting out a tweet on the relevant hashtag that said:  "How can we help this guy do something for Flowerdale?"

The guy was actually Pete Williams, CEO of Deloitte Digital, as I found out a week or two later.

What Flowerdale went through is best described here.

Of course, Kinglake was also amongst the worst towns hit by the fires.

A few weeks after the fires were no longer a danger, I took a near-dusk trip to Kinglake with my family, travelling along the St. Andrews road.  It's a narrow, meandering road, not really much trouble for the driving skills of someone who was taught in the hills of East Gippsland.  It wasn't the driving that bothered me.  It was the sight of the burnt trees against the fading light.

The St. Andrews to Kinglake road had no lights on it once we left St. Andrews.  Not one.  Against what little light there was, we could see blackened, broken trees.  It's a sight that no tweet or news report can really, truly describe.  Needless to say, after we got to Kinglake and stopped for some fish-and-chips, we took the better, safer road out the other side, via Whittlesea.

However, that was in dark.  A few months later I saw the Whittlesea road in daylight.

In July, Pete Williams got me to film the Sustainable Housing workshop in Kinglake.

Sure, grass had regrown on the floor of that bushland.  There were new leaves on the trees.

But the trees themselves were still black.  And they still are, as seen a few weeks ago on the last drive I took to the area.

You leave Whittlesea and for a couple of kilometres you still see untouched road.  Then you cross one particular hill and then the wrecked trees start.

You see the blackened trees on the hills underneath the new foliage.

However, on the last trip there a few weeks ago, I saw the rebuilding.  New houses popping up on places that were flattened or empty back in July.

My favorite thing this last visit to Kinglake was seeing one impromptu sign that read:  "Welcome to Kinglake...the town that STILL refuses to die."

I especially pointed that out to the nine-year-old...explaining to him that no matter what disaster there is in life, the most important thing is to bounce back from it.

Next weekend, I want to visit both Flowerdale and Kinglake on the anniversary of Black Saturday.  As all of us in Victoria remember the lifes lost.

One year later, let's hope we've learned something.