On New Year's Eve 2019, Janice Newnham and her family were caught directly in the path of the Black Summer fires that tore through their beef farm near Walwa, Victoria. What started as preparation turned into survival: moving cattle to bare paddocks as charred leaves fell from the sky, watching her husband operate a bulldozer through a fire tornado, driving a water tanker through flames she couldn't see through. Her son screamed at her. Her husband cried from frustration at a fire no one could stop. A firefighter, Sam McPaul, was killed by the same tornado that nearly took her husband. For eight days, police roadblocks kept Janice isolated on the farm, unable to leave without losing access to her remaining cattle. She did not know if her neighbors had survived.
What pulled her through was finding her community again. When she finally reached the Gingelic Hub emergency relief center, seeing people she thought she might have lost broke her heart open. She discovered that community debrief mattered far more than formal counseling. She also learned that the men around her, including her husband and sons, carried silent weight. They had done what survival demanded. They were terrified, not fearless.
Three years later, Janice still carries triggers: a controlled burn her husband lit sent her into palpitations. She noticed herself becoming overprotective, needing to know where everyone is. But she also wrote a self-published book combining photographs and blog posts from the fire, which gave her a way to unpack where they came from and where they are now. Recovery has not been linear. She thought she was doing brilliantly until she had a setback. She holds onto a motto: if it's not all right, it's not the end. There is always help, always connection, always hope for what comes next.
⚠️ Content advisory: this episode discusses grief & loss, which some listeners may find distressing.
If you need support, you're not alone. Help is available:
• Lifeline (24/7 crisis support): 13 11 14 · lifeline.org.au
• GriefLine: 1300 845 745 · griefline.org.au