Bill Shorten (Maribyrnong, Australian Labor Party, Leader of the Opposition) Share this | Hansard source

I thank the Prime Minister for his words and for agreeing to our request for this motion. It was 48 years ago, on a windy Melbourne morning at 11.50 am, 50 metres above the Yarra, 128 metres of concrete and steel in span 10 to 11 of the West Gate Bridge suddenly began to shudder. Workers later told of an eerie ringing sound as giant steel bolts turned blue under the strain and shot from their sockets with a sound like light bulbs popping. Then, in a flash, 2,000 tonnes of concrete and steel fell onto the muddy ground below and onto the eight wooden site huts, where the workforce's first lunch break had just begun. Thirty-five men died; 18 were injured. Families were fractured by tragedy, others spared by sheer luck alone, racked by that inexplicable human phenomena of survivor guilt.

Today we remember riggers and fitters, ironworkers, boilermakers, engineers, fathers, brothers and sons. Many of them were actually migrants who were seeking a fresh start in a new nation, who went out the front door that day from commission flats in Collingwood and humble houses in Altona and never came home. Victor Gerada was a steel rigger born in Malta. On 14 October, the day before the collapse, he thought he felt a shudder run through the bridge. He told his wife Doris that night when he got home from work, explaining he didn't want to tell his workmates because he didn't want them thinking the less of him. That morning, Victor woke Doris before he left for work to reassure her it must have been the wind. Victor and Doris's home was close enough to the bridge for Doris to run straight there when she heard the sirens. She arrived just as her husband's body was being loaded into the ambulance.

Jack Grist was the site foreman and Fred Upsdell was a storeman. They had been mates for over 20 years. They both lived in Altona and, as usual, Jack gave Fred a lift to work that day. They had their lunch in the hut at the same time. When the mess of the rubble and the tangle of the scaffolding was cleared, their bodies were found next to one another. Later, the two old friends would be buried alongside each other. The humble plaque on the memorial beneath the bridge at Hyde Street bears 35 names. It lists their trade or craft, each carries its own story and so too do the survivors, some of whom I've had the privilege to meet. They are men like Bob Setka, a rigger, who somehow miraculously rode the bridge down, a 50 metre fall. He'd stepped out from the interior of the span for a cigarette moments before. That decision saved his life.

It should also be noted that a generation of union organisers rose out of that tragedy: men who'd worked on this job, galvanised by it. I've had the privilege of meeting some of these survivors and some of those who were on the job that day: Tom Watson, John Cummins, Pat Preston and Danny Gardiner. There were more. They learned very difficult lessons that day and they made it their mission to advance the cause, not just for better industrial relations but to champion stronger workplace health and safety across the state and the nation.

Most of us who use the bridge day by day rarely stop to reflect on Australia's worst industrial disaster. But today in the House of the Australian people we honour the memory of all those who have died. We acknowledge and remember the trauma and the guilt inflicted on families and loved ones and on survivors—many of whom lived with the nightmares for years. But in doing so we remind ourselves that we sit in the relative comfort and security of this place—that workplace deaths and injuries are not just a tragedy confined to the history books and black-and-white photos. It's been about three weeks since the parliament last met, but, in the three weeks since parliament last met, around 10 Australians have died at work, whether that be falling from heights or crushed by heavy machinery or falling material. Thousands more right now live and will die from industrial diseases incurred at work. Until every Australian workplace is safe and until every Australian has the right to come home to the people they love, then there is more for all of us to do.

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