Mark Leigh moved his family to the riverbanks for a lifestyle he loved: water skiing, fishing, a tight-knit community, and a small school for his kids. He never thought the Murray would take it all. When the 2022 floods came, the water rose slowly at first, then in a single day it breached the levee and swept over his roof. He woke at 2am to the sound of water rushing in like a waterfall. By 6am, he and his dog were leaving everything behind.
What followed was months of uncertainty. He paid a mortgage on a house he couldn't live in while also paying rent elsewhere, throwing money at both. He had no idea what to expect when the water finally receded: the doors had swelled shut, the mud was everywhere, and the stench was overwhelming. His entire neighbourhood looked like a war zone, with debris from kilometres upstream scattered across every property. He realized it would take six years to rebuild on weekends, so he gave up work entirely to strip the house down to its frame and start again.
But Mark wasn't alone. His community showed up. Neighbours gathered at the end of each day to share jokes, beer, and help with jobs that needed two hands. A young woman from the relief centre called him at work just to check in. A relief centre found him a pet-friendly hotel room within hours. What kept him going wasn't government support (their area was overlooked for recovery funding), but the people around him. Now, years later, Mark is back in his rebuilt home, still choosing to live on the river. He learned that disaster reveals who people really are, and some people are willing to help strangers simply because it needs doing.