This special edition to mark 10 years since Black Saturday has come from the heart.
It’s been a painstaking process, from poring over our coverage from the days, weeks and years after the fires, to deciding who to call this time around, to recording their sometimes-tearful accounts.
I’m not ashamed to say I’ve shed a few tears myself along the way.
The stories people have shared with me have been overwhelming.
“We don’t want to unnecessarily open old wounds,” guided the entire process.
But so did a sense of duty to share stories from as many perspectives as possible.
I’m not saying we’ve captured everyone’s experience, but I hope we’ve presented an honest and accurate snapshot.
Not every story is positive, because not every experience was a positive one. Many weren’t.
But overall I hope we’ve shown that there is a light at the end of the tunnel.
It’s not about recovery – life will never be the same for anyone impacted by this inferno – but about finding a way to carry on.
What that looks like is different for every person we spoke to.
The disaster claimed the lives of 173 people and destroyed thousands of homes across the state.
We can’t forget those who lost their lives, loved ones and property.
We can’t forget those who fought to save lives and property.
We must remember those who supported communities when they needed it most.
We must remember those who helped to rebuild the shattered towns.
Some people we’ve spoken to have questioned the value in covering the anniversary.
I’ve asked myself that same question. But imagine if we ignored it.
Anyone who needs support can call Lifeline on 13 11 14.
– Casey Neill
