Revue for Recovery: rebuilding what Nerriga lost

Posted on 6 March, 2020

On Saturday 21 December 2019, one of my worst fears this summer became Lisa Hurley and Katrina Usher’s reality.

While I was doing the last of my Christmas shopping, lamenting the smoke in Canberra, and constantly checking the Fires Near Me app, Lisa, Katrina and 18 other families from Nerriga in New South Wales, were losing everything they owned.

The fire that I was so relieved was still a safe distance from me was bearing down on this tiny little village in the first of what would be four ferocious attacks over the next two weeks. And at that time, I did not even know that Nerriga existed.

Almost halfway between Braidwood and Nowra, Nerriga is home to only approximately 60 residents.

The trauma and impact of losing 20 homes, and the damage to many other homes and livelihoods, is an almost unbearable cross for this small tight-knit rural community to bear.

Recovering from the unfolding excruciating aftermath will take a long time. If such a thing is even possible.

Last Sunday I travelled to Nerriga with our photographer Nic, to meet with Katrina and Lisa at The Nerriga Hotel. As part of the Canberra/Queanbeyan theatre community organising the Revue for Recovery fundraising concert this Saturday 7 March, I wanted to understand just what recovery was needed.

Katrina Usher and Lisa Hurley. Credit: Nic Gillies.

Lisa and her partner Wayne moved to Nerriga 10 years ago. Katrina and her husband Jack arrived shortly afterward. Katrina and Jack were married on the verandah of their country retirement home. A home for which they worked two jobs over many years, in order to renovate and enjoy. “I thought we were set,” says Katrina.

During our visit—in what I would consider another emotionally Herculean act—Lisa, and Katrina’s husband Jack drove us to their properties. And I stood with them in the twisted piles of metal and debris that was once their homes, bereft.

Surrounded by acres of burned bushland, (ironically now shooting green as a result of cruelly too-late rains), Jack’s grief was palpable.

“Everything I’ve ever owned was here. My Dad and some of my brothers’ things were also here. They all died some years ago. It was all I had left of them.”

As I listened to the horrific accounts of 21 December, to say that I was heartbroken for Lisa, Katrina and their families, is an understatement.

Credit: Nic Gillies.

Yet I marvelled at how these two incredible women who, like so many others, were left without even a set of their own underwear, could summon an intermittent smile amidst their tears.

Women who are now wearing “someone else’s clothes” every day. Women whose grief is repeated over and over as they reach for yet another thing they no longer have.

Women who have somehow mustered a will to get up and keep going that I am certain I do not possess. Women who have lost their homes and all their possessions—but not their spirit.

How are they doing it? Katrina and Lisa are unanimous in their reply.

“Because of the kindness of strangers and…The Nerriga Hotel “

Enter Sarah and Phil Smith.

Owners of the Nerriga Hotel. Young parents to Hugo (4) and Oliver (8 months). Undisputed heroes in the eyes of the village—and rightly so.

Phil is a Bomaderry boy who had dreamed of owning a pub since he was 18. Sarah is French. The two met in WA. Whilst later briefly living in Sydney, according to Sarah Phil came home nearly seven years ago and said, “The Nerriga Pub is for sale—and here we are!”

And isn’t the village grateful.

On 21 December, Phil and Sarah instinctively and without hesitation set about creating a safe place in which they provided hundreds upon hundreds of meals, and shelter, support, comfort and hope for the village.

Phil and Sarah Smith. Credit: Nic Gillies.

“They are the backbone of our whole community—never asking anything for themselves,” says Lisa and Katrina. “This is the only place I feel safe,” adds Lisa.

Phil and Sarah are however most reluctant heroes. Quick to turn attention to what they describe as the breadth of support from the community that assisted them during those first weeks.

“It was very humbling,” says Phil.

So, what does kindness mean to the people of Nerriga?

Again, Katrina and Lisa simultaneously respond, “Everything! When you have nothing, it means the world.”

“We are just so grateful that people know we are here. And that we aren’t forgotten after all.”

There is no chance that I will ever forget my trip to Nerriga. And I know where I will be returning for one of the best pub meals I’ve had in a long time.

Because meals made and served with this kind of love and care just can’t be rivalled.

If you want to show Lisa, Katrina, the village of Nerriga and the Braidwood region that we have not forgotten them, please book your tickets here for ‘Revue for Recovery’ this Saturday 7 March.

Funds from the night as well as from the event Go Fund Me , will be split equally between the Braidwood Community Help Fund, who are assisting the people of Nerriga and the Native Animal Rescue Group.

Let’s follow Sarah and Phil’s lead and prove just how far kindness can travel.

Feature image: All the remains of Katrina and Jack’s home. Credit: Nic Gillies.