Imagine returning home after a devastating bushfire, only to find your house miraculously standing while your neighbors’ homes lie in ruins. This is the stark reality for Lynne and Peter Suelzle, whose story is just one of many in Harcourt, Victoria, where a ferocious fire has left a trail of destruction and resilience in its wake. But here’s where it gets even more heart-wrenching: while some homes survived against all odds, others were reduced to ashes, leaving families to pick up the pieces of their shattered lives.
Peter stands amidst the wreckage, holding the charred brass house numbers that once adorned their gate post on Coolstore Road. The post itself is gone, incinerated by the fire that tore through the town the night before. Yet, their home remains standing, a testament to sheer luck or perhaps something more. All around, the bushes and trees Peter planted smolder, their sheds buckled and contents turned to toxic debris. Their next-door neighbor’s house is a pile of ashes—a stark reminder of how thin the line between survival and loss can be.
And this is the part most people miss: the Suelzles’ story is repeated along the road leading into Harcourt—miracles and disasters side by side. Victoria’s emergency management commissioner, Tim Wiebusch, estimates that about 50 homes were lost in the Ravenswood and Harcourt fire, though he admits this is likely a ‘conservative number.’ The fire, which started near Fogarty’s Gap Road on Friday afternoon, jumped the Calder Freeway, ravaging Harcourt and Mount Alexander. It didn’t just destroy homes; it took out essential infrastructure—telecommunications, water, sewage, and even the broadcasting capacity for ABC local radio, which is critical for emergency alerts.
Despite police roadblocks, curious onlookers in cars—often entire families—tried to sneak past, only to be turned away by frustrated CFA members. Peter recalls their narrow escape: ‘We evacuated just as the fire jumped the highway. I saw the ash coming, and it went black. I grabbed the dogs, the cat, and we took off.’ Their luck held, but others weren’t as fortunate. The fire’s impact was uneven, with some parts of town hit far worse than others.
Here’s where it gets controversial: while some residents evacuated, others stayed behind to defend their homes and livelihoods. Take Prue Walduck and Ada Milley, who remained on their Harcourt North property to protect their home—and their pregnant alpacas. ‘I’ve got females due to give birth in three days,’ Prue explains. They took turns keeping watch overnight, battling uncertainty in the dark. Their straw bale house, surprisingly fire-resistant thanks to its concrete rendering, offered some safety, but the threat of the fire turning back toward them loomed large. ‘We’re not out of danger,’ Prue warns. ‘Another wind change could bring it right back.’
Local hero Brian ‘Buzz’ Nunn stayed to protect the kindergarten, fighting the fire for five hours while his family called incessantly. Using watering cans and bins from his neighbor Pam’s tank, he managed to hold off the flames until the Redesdale Fire Brigade arrived. ‘I was getting buggered,’ he admits, ‘but we couldn’t let it take the kindergarten.’
At a community meeting in Castlemaine, authorities struggled to provide answers. The majority of public buildings were saved, including the primary school, but the Coolstore Cafe was destroyed. The CFA’s Michael Masters apologized to the Harcourt community, acknowledging their failure to keep everyone safe. ‘The fire ran too quickly under 100km/h winds,’ he explained. ‘We couldn’t get close enough to control it.’
Now, here’s a thought-provoking question: With climate change intensifying bushfire seasons, how prepared are we to face these increasingly frequent and destructive events? Are our emergency systems robust enough, or do we need a radical rethink? Share your thoughts in the comments—let’s spark a conversation that could shape our future.
As Harcourt begins to recover, a recovery center is set to open in Castlemaine on Monday. But for many, the road ahead is long and uncertain. The fire may have passed, but its scars—both visible and invisible—will linger for years to come.
