Floods, Kindness and a Whole Lot of Compassion

by David Roland

On 1 March 2022, Lismore and many other towns in the northern rivers region of NSW experienced the worst flood event in recorded history. While residents were still getting on their feet a second flood occurred within a month. This flood, although not as extreme as the first, was psychologically more damaging because it was a kick in the guts for already worn-down communities. It also demonstrated that flooding has become a frequent disaster; the previous major flood had occurred in 2017. The indecision this has led to is, can people continue to live and work in their communities? The thousands of affected residents, businesses and school students, have nowhere else to go and this has led them to being labelled Australia’s first climate change refugees.

I am a long-term resident of the northern rivers and was not directly impacted but I know many who were. The shock and grief in our extended community has been enormous, and it has come after the COVID disruptions. I, and many others, have thrown ourselves into volunteering where we could. We’ve seen compassion for the suffering of others arise and it has been beautiful and breathtaking.

The few government services available at the time of the emergency were overwhelmed and less efficient than the collective efforts of volunteers. In what had semblances of a Dunkirk like rescue, people brought their tinnies and kayaks into towns rescuing people off their roofs during the night as flood waters raged. In the valleys higher in the hills private helicopters dropped rescuers into areas where landslides and creek crossings made access in or out of these valleys impassable; lives were saved, food and water given out.

For my part, after two days of helping clean out mud-soaked houses in Lismore, I couldn’t face the devastation anymore; I had seen the same in 2017 and the reoccurrence of the same kind of calamity triggered too much grief, so I opted for ‘clean’ jobs.

I did my first four-hour shift at the Goonellabah Sports and Aquatic Centre (GSAC) as part of a team of volunteers from the Byron Bay Surf Life Saving club. GSAC, on elevated land outside of Lismore, had been turned into an evacuation centre providing sleeping quarters for about 120 people and their pets, food and clothing stores, laundry and a café. There were volunteer medical services (all the medical centres and pharmacies in town were flooded), Centrelink and counselling.

The donations were flowing in. I was continuously helping to unload vans, trailers and trucks. Two large deliveries came from Brisbane (two hours away) and one from the Gold Coast. In most cases these donations had been arranged by private individuals who had put the call out to their communities, collected and then transported them to us. One massive delivery of cleaning products with equipment and bottled water were delivered by Kalsha Aid, an international Sikh aid organisation.

A large box came from a family in Brisbane who had lost their home in a previous flood disaster and who knew what to pack. It came with a colourful itemised list of the contents and a child’s drawing. It was hard not to tear up with such unconditional human kindness. The ‘supermarket’ where people picked up items for free to put in their trolleys was as busy as any supermarket. There were plenty of most items to be found, including pet supplies.

Another time I did a shift and the Lifeline collection centre housed in a large agricultural pavilion at the Lismore Showground. My job was sorting through donations of linen and towels and then later stacking the ’supermarket’ shelves with donated food items. Evidently, donators believed that tinned baked beans, tinned spaghetti and 2-minute noodles are most needed after a flood. I came across Dan (not his real name), aged 63, weather-beaten, who told me he had travelled to Lismore to help. He was living in his car, camping in the showground with other out of town volunteers and contractors. He volunteered at Lifeline every day and ate lunch at the BBQ stand where Coles donated food. He was on Centrelink benefits, otherwise unemployed.

I have talked with friends who have not helped directly either because of physical ailments or other commitments and who feel guilty about this. I say, this is a period of recovery that will go on for months to years, find whatever means you can to assist in that time. As our communities have demonstrated, when we show kindness to one and we all do that, it adds up to a whole lot of compassion.

This article originally appeared in the CMA newsletter. You can subscribe to the newsletter here.