Percy

Percy was a happy lad.

He was short for his age, but his mother assured him he would grow.

Percy’s jet-black hair had the local doctor devilishly asking if his parents had used boot polish when he was born.

His piercing blue eyes captured everyone's attention although it was not attention he craved.

Percy lived with his family in the Launceston suburb of Invermay; it was a working-class area with most of the houses occupied by families of the railyards.

His dad, Hugh, worked the line for the state government-owned Tasmanian Government Railways.

He plied his trade as a welder at Inveresk's Main Workshop.

Percy waited for Hugh to walk home with the other workers, his sooty face and dusty clothes broken by the white of his teeth when he smiled at his eldest son.

Their house was modest, joined to another, yet comfortable all the same.

The family was far from rich, but Hugh had a good job and mum, Hazel, stayed home to manage four active boys under 14 years of age.

Percy attended Invermay State School with his brothers.

There were just under 1000 students, classes were large, and teachers were strict, although there was still mischief and learning to be had in equal measure.

Percy enjoyed school and did well in his subjects.

He particularly loved reading and had a passion for adventure stories like the Doctor Doolittle series by Hugh Lofting, which he borrowed from the school library. Percy hoped to follow his father into the railway trade.

Some days when it rained Percy had to rush home from school after corralling his boisterous and excited brothers.

When it rained hard, puddles would form quickly and his boots, socks, and feet would be drenched by the time he heard his mother demanding they enter through the backdoor.

But on an April day in 1929 it rained like Percy had never experienced before.

Earlier in the week the rain had been falling heavily on the North-West Coast at Devonport and Ulverstone where 30 inches (76cm) was recorded across three days.

On Wednesday, April 3 the mining town of Mathinna in the North-East received 12 inches (30cm) of rain and by Thursday, April 4 the new dam, Briseis, at Derby had collapsed, flooding another small town.

Percy was worried.

His dad, Hugh, had rushed home from work as he and his brothers had done from school.

Where there were gutters, they were beginning to spill and where there wasn't, the torrential rain was forming pools close to homes.

Hugh told his family that they were in for a couple of rough days with the rain not forecast to stop.

He confided in Hazel that the discussions in the crib room were entirely focused on floods.

Percy could see the Tamar estuary as he scurried home on Thursday afternoon, and he could tell it was raging.

An evacuation plan, printed by The Examiner Newspaper, which Percy loved to read, arrived at Invermay State School on Friday, April 6 and was sent home with students.

It described what may occur and how to evacuate should it become necessary.

Percy went to bed on Friday evening with his brothers, but they were far from sleep.

The worry on his mum and dad's faces was plain to see. The neighborhood was talking, checking on each other, Percy and his brothers were terrified.

Hugh and Hazel had been told that some houses in the area were already inundated and families had escaped to evacuation centres.

At 1.30am on Saturday morning April 6, 1929, Percy was woken from the briefest of naps by the clock from the post office in Cameron Street, the bell from the United Fire Brigade in Brisbane Street, and his frantic yet purposeful parents telling them that they had to leave.

They had gone to bed in their clothes, their warmest clothes, just in case.

The flood had already peaked at Duck Reach causing significant damage and the power was out - Invermay was in total darkness, and the North and South Esk rivers were soon to converge.

Hugh lamented that they should have left earlier. He despaired because they couldn't afford a car and he had put his family at risk. The water was already lapping at the doorstep, and more was to come.

Fortunately, the well-trodden path to Invermay State School, where an evacuation centre had been established, provided a familiar comfort for the boys who had followed instructions to the letter.

By Sunday, April 7, Hugh had taken the smallest solace as the only way out was by boat. And by later the next week 25 people were dead or missing including eight in a car taken by floodwaters.

It was 11 years before Launceston fully recovered economically from the great flood. At that time World War II had started and more financial challenges would soon arrive. Percy and many of his Invermay State School classmates signed up to serve their country.

Percy was a good man. He had grown.