Authors: Dawn Millen
Late afternoon sees me driving the fire truck to each street and sounding the siren several times. I then leave the truck and walk with a megaphone calling out to the people there and telling them to make a noise, any noise. The silence is deafening though and I hear nothing in street after street. My voice is hoarse now with calling out to empty air and my throat sore from the shouting and the dust. I hear no movement in street after street; not one voice calls for help, no groans or cries from under the rubble. I am beginning to believe I am the only survivor in the area.
It’s almost dark now and I return to the Emergency Service Compound for the last time today, there is no point in searching further through the night hours. It is too dangerous to walk the rubble strewn streets and I would be no use to others who are injured if I hurt myself.
Time for me to feed the dogs, and myself, then rest and recover enough to start searching again tomorrow. Searching, hoping and trying to find someone else, anyone else who has survived this earthquake. I lie down on the cot in the office and close my eyes and try to compose myself for sleep. Sleep, however, will not come, visions of the sights I have seen and the friends I have lost, the devastation and the blood dance behind my eyelids
. The tears come, I cry rivers during the night, dozing off and on between bouts of tears and waking to the almost constant aftershocks that are making things so dangerous out there in the town. I hear damaged buildings tumble further down with each shake of the earth.
The hours of darkness pass slowly and with the rising of the sun I awake and through sore red eyes peer at a world that 24 hours ago did not look like this. Once again I feed the dogs, eat cold baked beans
as I am too hungry to wait for them to heat through and make coffee on the primus stove in the back room. I am as ready as I ever will be to face another day in this hell hole that used to be John Creek.
The routine begins again with the siren on the fire truck sounding as I turn into the street and the megaphone calling, then the silence as I listen for sounds of life. I work through the town again, street by street, house by house, calling, ever calling and hoping for someone to make a noise, any noise. All the sounds are from the animals crying for food and water, I know I cannot feed them all
, so sadly I just keep moving and hoping as I journey through the streets of our small town.
Hour after hour I scour the streets, slowly and thoroughly, I no longer record the names of the dead, there are too many, and it hurts my soul to remember that just two days ago these were living breathing people, my friends and my life.
The radio is still static filled and no voices are heard there either, I am beginning to believe that I am the only human to have survived the devastation of the quake. As the earth shakes yet again I begin to believe that my best chance of finding survivors is to head for the nearest large town and to check on the farms along the road. This I will do tomorrow, but for today I will continue my search of the town in the hopes that one person, just one has managed to survive……
The hours tick by and slowly I cover each and every street. My eyes are sore from the tears and my voice almost gone from trying to find others who are alive. I have blisters on my feet
from my boots rubbing and sore hands from moving the piles of rubble that litter the streets to get the truck through and I am exhausted both mentally and physically. I have seen death before, I am a widow and I was also a nurse years ago and death holds no mystery for me, but to see death on this scale is something that I never anticipated. The horror is just starting to reach my brain.
I reach the end of the main street and turn into Short Street and hit the siren again. Sound echo’s through the stillness of the town then silence as I turn off the truck, pick up the megaphone and start to walk down this quiet leafy street. Megaphone in hand I begin to scan the broken buildings, eyes moving left and right. Searching, ever searching.
There, I see it! Amongst the rubble is movement, slow, shifting of tin and wood as something or someone pushes against it. My eyes widen as I peer towards this moving pile of debris and wonder. The movement is too large for an animal and for the first time in more than 24 hours I am hopeful that I have found someone alive.
I move towards the area, slowly at first, disbelieving after so long. Then I move faster, my feet stumbling over broken bricks
and pieces of wood, all thoughts of my own safety have flown, there is someone there. I know that this is the home of my friend Rhys Jones, his wife Wendy and their tiny baby Caren. Rhys owns the local supermarket and Wendy runs the only dress shop in town. Caren is only six months old. I don’t know who is under the rubble, but someone has survived. Now to get them out of there and I hope that they have injuries I can manage.
Pulling my gloves and crowbar from my belt I work my way across the rubble pile that was once a home and calling out
to let whoever is alive know that it is me and I am on top of the pile and going to help get them out. I am answered by the deep bass rumble of Rhys’s voice, telling me he is only slightly injured and that Caren is okay, wet, grumpy and hungry, but her cot protected her. His voice breaks as I ask about Wendy. Wendy is gone, she did not survive the initial quake and Rhys doesn’t know how long he was unconscious for, he heard the siren a while ago and had been working to get to the top of the pile of rubble, listening to me getting closer and closer and praying that I would not give up before I found them.
The earth shifts again as an aftershock rumbles through the town. The rubble pile moves with it and I hold my position and my breath hoping that it doesn’t collapse any
further onto my friend and his tiny child.
The shaking settles and I am so glad to hear the cries from Caren and Rhys gently soothing her as we both get back to work, one on the top of the pile of debris and one underneath.
Two hours pass and there covered in dust, through a gap in the twisted tin, I can see my friend! We both smile as we pass tiny Caren through the hole. Then I tie a rope to a tree in what used to be the front yard of the house and lower it down to Rhys so that he is able to climb out into the daylight.
There we stand, with this precious little life cradled in her father’s arms and with our arms around each other. Rhys now looks at the devastation for the first time and tears flow down his face for Wendy and for the others in town who have not made it. His customers and friends of many years are no longer here and neither is the town where he grew up, married and started to build his family.
We walk slowly back to the fire truck with me answering his questions and explaining that I had been searching throughout the day before and today and had only found the two of them alive. We resolve to give it another twenty four hours of searching here and then to drive to the next town to see if there are others there who have survived.
We head for the supermarket, where I walk through the shattered window and head down the shop to pick up nappies and baby food for Caren and more supplies for Rhys and myself. I also pick up long life milk, more bottled water, soups and tinned goods, more dog food and first aid supplies. We just don’t know what we will encounter along the journey and I feel that we need to be prepared now for any eventuality.
Next visit is to the pharmacy where I break open the dangerous dr
ugs cabinet for medications, then I pull baby bottles, and other supplies off the shelves and place them into the Fire Truck. I have decided that this is going to be the vehicle that will be the best for us to use due to its high clearance.
I visit the hardware store and gather jerry cans
for fuel and water if we can find an uncontaminated supply and also grab a tent, mattresses, torches, spare batteries, fishing rods and many other things that may come in useful during our travels to find out if we are the only survivors of the quake.
During this time the aftershocks continue and I run often from the buildings as they shake and quiver around me.
My fear now is that I will be injured by falling debris and will not make it out of here alive. I need to live now and help my friend with his child.
Dusk finds us returning to the Emergency Service Compound and our base; the dogs are let off to have a run and then fed and settled for the night. Puppy is not tied up, but curled up at our feet watching over Caren who we have made a bed for in a drawer lined with blankets
. She is now content, clean, dry and fed.
The sun sinks
slowly beyond the horizon, colouring the sky with reds, oranges and purples as it reflects against the clouds of dust in the air from the earthquake. Rhys and I sit in the gathering darkness talking quietly and cry together. Both of us are still shocked by the devastation caused by the earthquake and the lack of human life to be found after it was over. Rhys had a slight cut to his forehead and a large lump on the back of his head where the roof caved in, but after some first aid for his cut and some food he is starting to work through the initial shock and horror. We talk late into the night and watch the stars pop into view in the velvet blackness of the sky. The moon sails across the heavens as if nothing had changed in the world.
But things had changed; nothing would ever be the same again for the
tiny township of John Creek or for Rhys, Caren and I. Our world as we knew it ceased to exist and from the devastation of this life we now had to rebuild.
During all this time I had the radio on and there was nothing except static on the airwaves until…….
0230 hours and suddenly the comforting static was broken by a voice, Rhys and I jumped to our feet and rushed to the radio.
“Is anyone there?” a small, frightened voice called over the air
I keyed the microphone and replied, “This is Jenny from John Creek, who are you and where are you?” I asked.
“My name is Robin and I am scared.” The voice replied, “Mummy and Daddy are in the bedroom and I can’t get in and they won’t talk to me, my sister Tammy is crying too, but I gave her a bottle.” The voice went on.
“Can you tell me where you live, Robin?” I asked. “What are Mummy and Daddy’s names?” I looked at Rhys and got a nod that he may know who this was and the parent’s names would confirm it for him.
My heart was in my throat as I waited for Robin to reply, with all the stranger danger warnings I was so worried that Robin would not tell us where they were and who they were. We needed that information to be able to help them.
“Mummy’s name is Marie and Daddy is called Scott. We live out on the road to the big waterhole.” Was the reply after a few seconds of waiting.
I looked at Rhys and we both spoke at once, the Johnstone’s over on Big Creek Road. It was a lonely and isolated property and those children were just small. Robin was six years old and had just started in school and Tammy was two. We had to get out there and
check on what has happened to the parents and bring the surviving members of the family back into town with us.
“Robin, do you know Mr Jones at the shop in John Creek?” I ask him. When he tells me that he does know Rhys I tell him that Rhys, baby Caren and I will be there soon to help him and Tammy. I also tell him that he is doing such a good job looking after Tammy that Mummy and Daddy would be very proud of their big brave boy. I tell him to curl up with Tammy and that when he wakes up Mr Jones and I will be close to where he is. I also tell Robin to call out
on the radio if he wakes and is scared and Mr Jones and I will answer him.
Rhys and I know that we will have to wait for daylight to drive the 10 miles out to the Johnstone farm as it is too risky to drive the roads in the dark after the earthquake. So we settle down to doze for the next couple of hours. Rhys did remind me that we would need baby seats
for the vehicle for all three of the children too and we would have to find them when we woke in the morning. He did know where there were cars with the seats so we would just go and get some. With that we dozed off again to wake with the sun and drive out to the farm to find Robin and Tammy.
We woke early and ate a hurried breakfast, feeding and changing Caren between us and then went to find
car seats for the children. Then off to face the drive to the farm.
It took two hours to drive the ten miles to the farm due to many trees down on the road, the quake sand bogs and crevasses in the road. We had to take many detours and much rough driving was encountered before we pulled up in the front yard of the half destroyed farm house.
Robin and Tammy rushed out of the door both of them excited to see the fire truck, but also very worried that they were unable to wake their parents. Rhys and I reassured them that we would go look at Mummy and Daddy for them and try to wake them.
We left the children on the shady side of the house away from the building and the trees as the ground had started to shake again and we were worried, but we had to check on Marie and Scott. Robin promised to look after the two little girls for a short time while we checked on Mummy and Daddy and they were content with a packet of biscuits from the truck and bottles of water.
Rhys and I walked around to the side of the house where the Johnstone’s bedroom was half caved in and peered through the broken windows. There they were, both Marie and Scott, still in their bed, but all we could see was their feet. A huge beam had come down over both of them and crushed them both to death. There was no hope of them surviving. Rhys and I with tears in our eyes walked sadly around the house to tell the children that Mummy and Daddy could not wake up, but that they could come in the fire truck with Rhys, Caren and I. That we would look after them was understood by both Rhys and I as these were children from our town and they had no one else. We were now responsible for ourselves and three very young children.
Another two hours sees us safely back at our base and the children settle
d quietly playing with Puppy while Rhys and I are planning a last drive around the township before our final night here and then the drive to the next town.
This plan was revised and re revised several times over the day during breaks from checking for further signs of life. There were none to be found, however. It was a dispirited crew who finally fed the children and dogs and settled them down for the night.
Tomorrow would bring new challenges, some we would face head on and some we would gladly not have to face at all and would turn tail and run from them. For now we needed to rest and restore ourselves to face the journey ahead.